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retiredteabag · 2 days ago
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soft!Toji dog-sitting for a generous!reader
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pt. 1 - pt. 2 - pt. 3 - pt. 4 - pt. 5 - pt. 6 - pt. 7
Synopsis: Toji was quite accustomed to objectifying himself for a check. And to be frank, far worse actions as well. Now he’s not sure what to do with himself after meeting the kind and generous owner of the dog he pet-sits for.
read along as Toji grows more comfortable around you despite his past.
〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰
Toji was flipping his burner phone around in his hand over and over. Waiting patiently for a recognizable man to come stand beside him.
It hadn't rained in days but the streets he had been loitering were damp, the drainage was clogged with leaves and trash. This place was shitty. Quiet in a way that was dangerous to those from an area with high crime rates.
Three days prior, Toji watched as you shook, hiding your fear behind explanations. That night when he got to his run down apartment, he contacted a "private bail bondsman" (a glorified bounty hunter) to take on the favor he asked of his old boss, Shiu.
Toji knew better than anyone the kind of paper trail left in the wake of corporate abuse crimes. Though the man had never worked an office job a day in his life, it wasn't uncommon for a high roller to request his services. To think, you worked in an environment even remotely similar to the ones he had seen. It made him sick.
Toji had the bondsman look into HR files from your company. Look into the shareholders, those shareholder's families, and that was really all it took. Toji might not have known what to look for, but his little agent certainly did. The connections were obvious, all leading to one man.
A slimy bastard with a dozen write-ups, yet for reasons unknown, no trials, no court dates, no absence from work.
Perhaps a few years ago, this endeavor would give Toji a power trip, to be the one calling the shots, and handing out orders, he might have taken pleasure in the experience. Somehow that wasn't the case. Somehow the connection to you made him want to get it over with quickly. Somehow something had changed.
He told you none of this, of course. You with your big eyes and soft words. You and your endless kindness. No, he wouldn't tell you his plan. He would tell himself it was to protect you, but deep down he knew the truth.
He could not fathom you fearing him. He wouldn't allow it. Whatever that meant, he would become an image of security for you. And he wouldn't screw it up. Not after the gentlest soul he had met had been taken to feel unsafe.
It is for that reason. And only that reason, that Toji refrains from having your scummy coworker killed. He could've had it done in a few hours. Woulda done it himself too. It wouldn't have haunt him, he wouldn't feel remorse. But for you, he would go nicely.
Nicely enough.
Blackmail might strike fear in the heart of a man more than his own death could. And after days of research, there was a feast to exploit this snake with.
--
"Just get it done." Toji was saying, his flip phone in one hand, the other scratching between the dog's ears.
Toji made a kissy face at the panting canine. The dog appeared to be smiling as Toji brutally called the shots on a man's career.
The man over the phone spoke, "I've got an anonymous email ready for his rich little daddy, that and a CC for the CEO of the company. He'll be gone in a day or so. Won't have a face in the corporate world if it leaks." The man on the line was laughing.
"Good. Once you're done, Shiu will have your pay. Don't speak of it to anyone." Toji stood, looked at the clock.
"Yeah, man, I got it." And with that, Toji snaped the device shut, heading to the door to get his shoes. You'd be back soon, and he hopes to catch you on the way out.
Unintentionally, of course.
These past few days Toji had never felt so comfortable in his position. He was sure of himself. You didn't want him for anything but his care of your dog. You weren't gonna use him.
He felt almost ashamed. For the first time, he was more than just his body, more than a couple bucks. Why did a small part of him wish you would look at him the way other women did. With hunger.
He must be crazy.
He heard your car coming up the driveway, slid on his other shoe and swung open the door. He looked in the opposite direction, pretending he didn't see or hear you.
You stopped the car, put it in park, and rolled down the window. "Oh, Toji, you didn't have to stay this late!" You look at him with a worried gaze and he just smiles.
Bending down to look at you properly, he basks in the fact that you don't pull your face from his. He shares your space when he says, "Was nothin'".
You grin, "You're too good. I'm so glad you're here when I can't be, seriously, thank you."
You're too good. Oh, if only you knew.
"Yer' just easily impressed." He taps on your car door twice and stands to his full height again. "Too grateful and all that." He swings his key ring on his finger, stepping back toward his car but never taking his eyes from you.
You frown. "No really. I'm glad I can rely on you! And if you ever need a day off, just tell me, okay?"
He tilts his head, "Kay'" He smirks. Knowing it won't happen, but he likes to see you smiling at him. He leans against his beat up vehicle, watching you drive into your garage, park again, and get out. He watches you get to the interior door and waves back slowly before you press the garage door button to close.
Then, he looks up at the sky, sighing.
The difference between the two of you could not be more stark. He felt like a sewer rat in your presence. You were so pristine, and perfect. Still, you never treated him as anything but a privilege to be around.
His chest ached.
Sighing, he unlocked his car door and hopped in. Ready to make the drive back to his apartment.
Was it too much, to hope you would see him the way he sees you? Does he deserve that? Definitely not. But he couldn't help but hope. You never took an interest in those uppity corporate boys you worked with. And you were so endlessly busy.
He shook all the silly thoughts filling his head out. Starting up the engine, he ran a hand down his face.
She deserves a man who'll wait on her hand and foot. That'll kiss the ground she walks on.
Those rich boys don't know what they're missing. If he was in their position, he wouldn't let you work yourself to the bone, wouldn't let you put up with a work environment you hate. Wouldn't let you come home stressed.
Too bad I'm just the dog-sitter, huh? He chuckles.
When he arrives at his apartment, he barely has time to swing off his jacket, and step out of his shoes before his phone buzzes in his inner pocket. His work phone.
He ruffles with the jacket in his gasp and when he flips it open, all the messages say are:
"Sent. No need to follow up."
and
"This guy is done lol"
Toji smirks before he carelessly tosses the phone onto the kitchen counter. Flops himself onto his couch. Grinning with the knowledge that tomorrow, you're gonna have a great day.
--
And a great day, you most certainly have. You were barely in your office thirty minutes before, Lucy, your sweet assistant came racing in, squealing your name.
"What is it?" You asked, she was beaming like a child on Christmas.
Lucy attempted to contain herself, and stood straight with a faux air of professionalism, "He's gone." She giggles. "He's fired!"
You gasp. Surely not... "He...?" You question. No name is needed. The bastard was infamous.
She just nods her head with a huge smile.
You stand. Slam your hands on your desk. Then spin around and laugh.
Lucy squeals again and the two of you lock eyes, and embrace.
It had been too long. And it wasn't only you who had experience with harassment from the man. This was a win for virtually everyone in the company that wasn't in ownership.
"What-" You gulp air, "What was it? What finally did it?" Getting the question out.
She shakes her head and shrugs dramatically. "Not sure, nobody knows and the associates won't say."
Your brows furrow... "Really? Well, something must have happened..." You muse, "I wish I could see him packing his things now. Bet he's got some intern doing it form him."
"Oh, I'm sure. I just wish I knew what he did to finally lose grace with the company..."
You too were curious, but your overwhelming joy overrode that curiosity.
You felt free. Like you could be fulfilled at work now. A weight you hadn't known was there feels suddenly lifted and oddly, you want to cry.
It's a fact of life that when you receive good news, you want to share it with those around you. So why is it, that the first person you think of as your heart jumps for joy is the dog-sitter?
God, you were lonely.
You hope he doesn't feel burdened by your closeness.
〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰
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delilahsturniolo · 2 days ago
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i love you, i’m sorry
— m.s
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in which . . . matt accidentally confesses something he shouldn’t have in the heat of an argument.
genre/trope . . . enemies to lovers, angst. (resolved)
warnings . . . arguing, kissing & more.
written by . . . @delilahsturniolo. do not copy, steal, or re use my works. do not take inspiration without asking permission first. happy reading! :)
“lay on the horn to prove that it haunts me.”
“i love you i’m sorry.”
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you and matt have known each other your entire lives, which was unfortunate for the both of you. you may be asking yourself, if you’ve known each other for so long shouldn’t you be best friends?
well, it was quite the opposite actually. you and matt have hated each other for whatever reason, it was a rivalry between you two. you guys couldn’t even be in the same room without bickering, when your family and matt’s family hung out it was absolute hell for you.
all you wanted was to avoid matt at all costs, no matter the circumstances. however, you always got along with matt’s brothers.
you and matt never had a reason to hate each other, in fact you tried being nice to him sometimes. you both just never got along, bickering and complaining about each other 24/7. if you got a dollar for how much you both piss each other off everyday, you’d be filthy rich.
but, matt wasn’t a complete jerk. he didn’t completely despise you, sometimes he held the door open for you. other times, he would slam it shut in your face. matt absolutely adored teasing you, and doing small gestures just to make you annoyed at him. that was something he never failed at.
you had sort of a mixed and unsure feeling about matt. you were confused, you didn’t know how he felt about you. did he hate you, or not? even better question, did you truly hate him?
yes, of course you did. you were supposed to, you can’t love him. but…you felt something different over the past few weeks. as much as you hated to admit it, nowadays you didn’t mind his presence. just a few months ago, you’d rather get hit by a bus than be near him. but other days, he pissed you off more than anything. you hated him…but you didn’t at the same time.
you didn’t know what this feeling was, it made you sick. falling for your childhood enemy? it was impossible, it couldn’t happen. you hated it, you couldn’t make it stop. all you could do was push down your true feelings, and keep pretending.
so now here you were, in the present. it was pretty late in the night. you were at the triplets house, in the kitchen. nick was out for a space camp photoshoot, while chris was sleeping in his room.
you leaned against the counter, scrolling mindlessly on your phone as you popped a potato chip in your mouth, feeling the salty sensation sink on your tongue. quietly humming to yourself, you took in the peaceful silence. that is, until you heard the front door open.
matt walked in the house, going right into the kitchen. he huffed as he saw you, rolling his eyes. you bit your lip, not even acknowledging him.
matt walked over to the counter, shoving you over with his body so he could get by. you grunted, your phone clattering to the floor.
“dude, can you not?” you scoffed, pissed off as you picked your phone up from the floor. matt turned on the sink, beginning to wash the dishes.
“can you not with the attitude?” matt mocked you, not even batting you an eye. usually you would just flip him off and leave, but you didn’t this time. you wanted to confront him, show him that you weren’t a pussy.
to the both of you, arguing was a competition. you would just keep going on and on until one of you backed down, and usually it would be you. however, not this time.
“i don’t have a fucking attitude.” you crossed your arms, the back of his head facing you as he aggressively scrubbed a plate. you were testing his limits, and you found pleasure in that.
“whatever floats your boat.” matt shrugged, laughing to himself. “do you always have to be so annoying?” he continued, which only provoked you more.
you rolled your eyes and sealed the bag of chips shut. “do you always have to be so mean to me all the time?” you shot back at him. matt turned off the sink water, wiping his hands before turning around to face you. “i’m not mean, sweetheart. come on, is that all you got?” matt teased you, knowing it would make you annoyed.
“shut up!” you raised your voice at him slightly, making him scoff in disbelief.
“what the fuck is your problem?” matt raised his voice back at you, you weren’t in the mood for this right now. your frustration was building up by every passing second.
“you, matt! you’re my problem!” you shouted back at him.
“my fucking goodness, y/n. you’re always starting shit, aren’t you?” matt complained, throwing his hands up in the frustration. you simply said nothing.
“what? cat got your tongue?” matt darkly chuckled. you rolled your eyes, starting to walk away. matt only followed after you.
you stomped outside into the driveway, it was the dead of night. you suddenly felt matt grab your arm, turning you around to face him.
“let me go, matt.” you spoke fiercely, trying to yank away from him. his grip only grew tighter, he completely ignored your protests.
“y/n, stop it. listen to me.” matt told you, you only shook your head.
“get away from me, matt. i hate you.” you remarked, matt shook his head. “no you don’t.” he pulled you closer.
the cold wind blew in your hair, matt’s eyes pierced into yours. “what are you talking about?” you questioned him.
“you don’t hate me.” matt shrugged, you weren’t even trying to pull away from him anymore. something was drawing you to him, and you didn’t mind it for once.
“yes i do! you don’t care about me!” you argued back, matt completely snapped at you.
“of course i care, y/n! how could i not care? i care more than anything in the world.” he shouted.
“since when did you start caring about me!?” you scoffed in disbelief.
“since fucking forever, you idiot!”
and those exact words, the moment they came out of his mouth silenced you. which by the way, was a rare occurrence. your lips parted slightly. “what?” you murmured.
matt let go of your arm, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “i love you, okay? i love you so fucking much, goddamnit! i’m sorry i fell in love, i can’t do shit about it and…i didn’t want it to happen, y/n.” matt blurted out. what? this was the absolute last thing you were expecting.
“you…what?” you spoke softly. your mind was racing with a million thoughts at once. matt was in love with you? your heart began to beat faster as you looked into his eyes.
“you think i wanted this to happen? trust me, i’m just as confused as you.” matt’s voice broke. you both stood across from each other, goosebumps raising onto your arms.
“i love you too, matt.” you whispered. matt’s gaze immediately softened.
“but…the thing is i can’t. i can’t love you. it won’t work out. we can’t be together and you know that.” you muttered, looking away from him as you said that.
“you don’t get it. it’s not that easy to lose feelings for you, if i could i would. i can’t lose feelings for someone i’ve loved for so fucking long.” matt’s voice came out shaky as he expressed all of his emotions.
you sighed, stepping closer to him. he looked down at you, his eyes growing glossy. your hand traveled up his chest and to the side of his neck, matt’s breath hitched at this action.
before he even knew what was going on, you leaned in, pulling him in for a kiss.
both of your lips connected, your heart felt full, as if you had been needing this your entire life. matt groaned against your lips as the kiss grew more and more passionate, more hungry.
you both wanted this badly, you craved each other more than anything. this felt so wrong in your brain, but yet so fucking right in your heart.
matt’s hands gripped your waist tightly as you wrapped your arms around his neck, your lips continued to dance with his, you felt his soft and supple lips crash against yours once more.
matt pulled away from the kiss, not letting go of you though. you looked up at him, a smirk creeping up on your face.
“mmm..you’re not so bad after all.” matt hummed, his finger lifing your chin up with dominance.
“i’m gonna murder you, sturniolo.” you teased, matt only chuckled, his hand moving to your cheek, caressing the skin gently.
“you wouldn’t.” matt smiled down at you, before leaning into your face once more, his lips colliding with yours again.
maybe loving him wasn’t so bad after all.
© delilahsturniolo
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gwens-love · 2 days ago
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The space he left behind
Summary: After Nicky’s passing, Agatha doesn’t know how to handel being a good mother to her daughter, and a partner to Rio. She navigates her grief while struggling to reconnect. As Rio hopes to recover the love that binds their family.
Warnings: Angst, grief and loss.
Word count: 1.7k
~Agathario x daughter!reader~
A/N: I used google translate for this sorry if there are mistakes.
Please don’t copy/steal or translate this work thanks.
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~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~
As you wandered through the library with a book in hand, you looked up at Agatha, or better said your Mama. She was busy, but you missed the comfort of her voice, the warmth she used to give so freely.
“Mama?” you asked softly, hoping you weren’t interrupting her too much.
Her eyes flicked to you, and a small, sad smile appeared on her face. She had been distant since Nicky was gone, but there was still a part of her that wanted to be here for you, to love you the way he would’ve wanted.
“What is it, little one?” she replied, her voice softer than you’d heard it in days.
You held up the book, looking at her with hopeful eyes. “Can you read this to me, Mama?”
Agatha looked down at you, her expression conflicted. She reached for the book, fingers trembling slightly, and let out a deep sigh. “Maybe… maybe later, my love. I’m… I’m not quite ready today.”
Your heart ached a little, but you nodded. “Can… Mami read it to me, then?”
Agatha’s expression softened, and she glanced down the hallway where Rio was bustling around. Rio heard your voice and peeked in, her face lighting up with a gentle smile as she approached, kneeling down beside you.
“Of course, mi corazón,” Rio said, taking the book from you and winking at Agatha. “Mama and I both have time for our little reader tonight.”
Agatha gave Rio a grateful smile, her hand resting briefly on Rio’s shoulder. Maybe, just maybe, things would be okay together, they would find their way forward, for you.
You nestled into Rio’s side as she settled down with the book, her aura carrying a mix of nature’s calm and something far more powerful… the kind of energy you could feel in your bones. To you, she was Mami, warm and loving, but everyone else knew her as the green witch or Death with a capital D. Her touch felt like spring’s renewal and autumn’s quiet decay, life and death balanced in her very presence.
Rio opened the book, her fingers gliding delicately over the pages. “Are you ready for an adventure, mi amor?” she asked, her voice rich and velvety, holding that magical spark that always made your heart race a little faster.
You nodded eagerly, glancing over at Agatha, who sat nearby. She was watching the two of you with a softness in her eyes, though you could sense a shadow in her heart. Rio noticed too, her gaze meeting Agatha’s, a look passing between them a silent understanding of grief, love, and the weight of the responsibilities they shared.
As Rio began to read, her voice wove the story into something almost real. Her words seemed to hang in the air, each sentence wrapping around you like an invisible charm. You leaned in closer, comforted by her presence, while Agatha, though still distant, stayed close enough to remind you she wasn’t going anywhere.
With both Mama and Mami by your side, you knew you were safe, held between life and death, love and sorrow, warmth and magic. And for now, that was enough.
As Rio’s voice wrapped you in the story, the words began to blur. You found yourself glancing over at Mama, who was watching the two of you with that faraway look in her eyes the one she had whenever anyone mentioned him.
You shifted, looking down at the edge of your blanket, and softly asked, “Mama? Where… where did Nicholas go?”
The question hung in the air, pulling both of them from the gentle quiet of the story. Agatha’s face froze for a moment, a flicker of pain crossing her features. She opened her mouth, then closed it, clearly unsure how to answer. Rio’s hand found yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze, but even she looked at Agatha, letting her decide what to say.
“Well, my darling…” Agatha began softly, her voice a blend of love and grief. “Nicky… he had to go somewhere very far away. Somewhere we can’t visit him.”
“But he’s coming back, right?” you asked, looking between them, the innocence in your eyes making it clear you hadn’t grasped the weight of what had happened.
Agatha’s shoulders dropped slightly, and she reached out to brush a stray hair from your face. Her fingers were gentle, yet you could feel the heaviness of her sadness. “Sometimes, people go to places they can’t come back from, little one.”
You blinked, processing her words, your heart sinking. “Like… like the stories? Like when someone goes into the spirit world?”
“Yes,” Rio murmured, her voice a whisper, her thumb tracing soothing circles on your hand. “Nicky went to a place like that. But he loved you very, very much, and he’s always watching over you, mi amor.”
You looked down, frowning, the ache of missing him suddenly sharper, more real. “Will I ever see him again?”
Agatha swallowed hard, her voice catching slightly. “Maybe… one day, in a different way. But for now, he’d want us to take care of each other. To remember him with love, even though he’s gone.”
You held their words close, even as you struggled to understand fully. In that moment, you could feel both their hands grounding you, reminding you that even though Nicholas was gone, Mama and Mami would always be here. And maybe, just maybe, that would be enough.
~<~>~<~>~<~>~
But for Mama, that wasn’t enough. Agatha missed Nicky deeply, in a way words could never capture. She carried the loss in her eyes, in the way her shoulders sagged when she thought no one was looking, and in the quiet moments when she seemed miles away, lost in memories of him.
After she tucked you into bed that night, Agatha lingered by your side, brushing a gentle hand across your hair as you began to drift off. She stayed until your breathing slowed, your small hand still curled around hers.
When she finally pulled away, she found Rio waiting at the doorway, leaning against the frame with her arms folded, watching her with a look that held both understanding and sorrow. The green witch, Death herself, could face any darkness with courage, but this grief the emptiness left by Nicky’s absence was something even she couldn’t fully shield them from.
Agatha closed the door softly behind her and let out a sigh. “I don’t know if I’m doing any of this right,” she admitted in a whisper, her voice breaking. “I wasn’t meant to do this alone, Rio.”
Rio stepped closer, resting a gentle hand on Agatha’s arm. “You’re not alone, mi amor,” she replied, her voice low and steady. “We’re in this together. Nicky’s gone, yes, but his love he left that with us. With you.”
Agatha looked down, her fingers brushing the sleeve of her own robe as if tracing the fabric might help her remember his touch, his laugh, the quiet way he’d reassure her during nights like this. She wanted to believe Rio, to find comfort in her words, but the ache of Nicky’s absence was too raw, too present. “It’s just… sometimes, it feels like there’s a part of me that went with him.”
Rio tilted Agatha’s chin up gently, her gaze fierce yet filled with empathy. “You still carry him, Agatha. He’s in every act of love, every time you comfort mi cielo, every time you give of yourself even when it hurts. Nicky would be so proud of you for everything you are, and everything you’re becoming.”
Agatha’s eyes filled with tears, and she let them fall, silent yet heavy with the grief she’d been holding back. Rio pulled her into an embrace, grounding her, her arms strong and steady, as if she could anchor Agatha to the world again.
For a long while, they stood like that in the dim light, surrounded by quiet and loss, yet also by the bond they shared a bond born of love, even through the pain. Agatha knew she had to carry on, not just for you, but for Nicky’s memory and for the family they were still trying to build.
And maybe, with Rio by her side, she would find the strength to face each day anew.
~<~>~<~>~<~>~
“I can’t forgive you. Not yet, anyway,” Agatha murmured, her voice laced with sorrow, her words hanging heavily between them. There was a deep sadness in her eyes, a glint of hurt that hadn’t yet softened, no matter how much time had passed.
Rio’s face softened, her usual confidence faltering as she held Agatha’s gaze. She nodded, understanding the weight of the pain she had caused, the way it still lingered, the wound not fully healed.
“But I will love you until the end of my days here on this earth,” Agatha continued, her voice breaking slightly as she brought her hands up to Rio’s face, her thumbs tracing the curve of Rio’s cheekbones with a gentleness that spoke of both love and longing.
Rio closed her eyes at the touch, feeling the warmth of Agatha’s palms against her skin. For a moment, it was as if the world fell away, leaving only the two of them, bound by love, loss, and the complicated history that lay between them. She knew Agatha’s forgiveness was not something that could be given lightly, nor something that could be hurried. Rio had hurt her, betrayed the trust they’d built, and she understood that forgiveness might never fully come.
“I don’t deserve you,” Rio whispered, her voice barely audible, thick with the weight of her own guilt. “But I’ll spend every moment of this life making it right, even if it takes until the end of time.”
Agatha leaned forward, pressing her forehead against Rio’s, their breaths mingling in the silence. It was a closeness that spoke of all the words they couldn’t bring themselves to say, of all the love that still pulsed between them despite everything.
They stayed like that, bound together, in a promise unspoken yet deeply understood: to hold each other, even when forgiveness felt far away, even when their hearts were heavy with grief. Because love, even in its most fractured form, was a lifeline neither of them could bear to sever.
~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~
Fin <3
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just-dreaming-marvel · 13 hours ago
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Abuse ~ Part 1
MAIN MASTERLIST / MARVEL MASTERLIST
Logan Howlett x Female!Reader
Word Count: 4,160ish
Summary: You are a human working at Xavier's School. You are in an abusive relationship with a guy named Josh. Logan wants to do something about it.
Warnings: abuse (mental, physical, emotional), rape, injuries, triggers
Notes: Seriously, do not read if this will trigger you. You are in charge of what you consume. This will be split into 2 parts.
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You weren’t a mutant, but you did work at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters. Charles recruited you to teach the primary-age students. It was unusual for a human to teach at the school, but Charles had heard that you had lost your teaching job due to standing up for a mutant student and believed you were a perfect addition to the school.
It was no surprise to Charles that you quickly formed a tight bond with many of the students and the staff. And that included the brooding history teacher, Logan. Logan hadn’t given you the warmest welcome, questioning Charles’ decision to bring a human on board, but it didn’t take long for you to wear him down.
Being a teacher sometimes meant working past contract hours, meaning you didn’t return home to your boyfriend. You had a room at the school, next to Logan’s, that you would use on really late nights. But you did your best to get home to your boyfriend every night you reasonably could.
You and your boyfriend, Josh, had been together for four years while you’d been working at the school for a year. The two of you have been living together for three years. Josh was there when you graduated from university and started your first teaching job, cheering you on. But slowly, your cheerleader turned into your worst nightmare. It started with verbal and emotional abuse, always putting you down for every little thing. The physical abuse started when you lost your job. Josh was anti-mutants and thought it was ridiculous for you to stand up for one. He slapped you for the first time that night.
It became a regular routine that if you were home too late for Josh’s liking, you would get a stern beating. At first, you had become an expert at hiding the scratches and bruises. But as the abuse continued, it started to wear you down. Those at the mansion began to notice little things, especially the fact that you weren’t as easily happy and smiley as you once were.
Logan noticed something was up almost as soon as he met you. Your smiles and laughter didn’t quite reach your eyes. You were clearly fooling everyone but not him. The first few weeks of your arrival, Logan tried to observe you. You would try to make small talk with him in the hallways and in the faculty room, but he would simply grunt in response. He listened in on conversations that you had with others, quickly learning that you lived with your boyfriend Josh. He noticed that your heartbeat would quicken in a way he didn’t like when you talked about Josh. It was more fear than love, making him concerned. There was also the fact that no one had ever met the man.
One night, Logan saw you still in your classroom. It was late, but he wasn’t sure you realized it.
“You spendin’ the night?” He asked, leaning against the doorway.
Your eyes snapped to the clock. “Shit,” you muttered. You quickly began stuffing papers into your backpack. “It’s late.”
“Too late for the bus that you usually catch.”
“Shit,” you repeated. 
“Just stay the night. There’s a room next to mine that you’ve barely used.”
“I can’t.” You shook your head. Logan could sense your anxiety rising. “I need to go.”
“Do you think that’s—“
“I can’t stay!”
Your outburst took Logan back. “Okay… then need a ride?”
“No. I—I can walk.”
Logan scoffed. “It’s a fifteen-minute drive, but that doesn’t mean it’s a quick walk.” He pushed himself off the doorframe and headed for you. “Let me take you.”
“Logan, I—“
“No, arguments.” He grabbed your bag and swung it over his shoulder. His brows knitted together as he noticed how you tensed at his movements. “Let’s go.”
~~~
The two of you kept quiet the whole drive to your apartment. Logan could hear your heartbeat get faster and faster the closer the two of you got to your place. Your fingers anxiously tapped against your knees.
“You alright?” Logan asked, keeping his eyes focused on the road.
“Fine,” you squeaked.
“You sure? You seem a bit anxious.”
“Just want to be home.”
Logan nodded. “How’s, uh… how’s Josh?”
“He’s… fine…”
“Good.” Logan pulled over and parked in front of your building. “Here you go.”
“Thanks, Logan.” You reached back and grabbed your backpack. “See you in the morning.”
Logan quickly grabbed your wrist before you could slip out of the car. You tensed under his touch. “Let me know if you need me to pick you up in the morning.”
You pressed out a smile. “I’ll be fine. Thanks again.”
You pulled your wrist from his light grip, shut the door, and entered the building. Logan sat there for a moment. There was something wrong, he could tell. But he didn’t know you enough to force it out of you. With a sigh, he drove off.
~~~
Josh had seen Logan drop you off. He was furious, accusing you of cheating. He beat you up and, for the first time, raped you that night. You called in sick the next day.
That was months ago now. You and Logan were now dear friends, and you were careful not to anger Josh like that again. Logan had noticed that you were on edge more than normal, easily spooked, and wearing many layers despite the weather. 
“Somethin’s wrong,” Logan muttered as he entered your classroom.
“What?” You questioned, pulling your gaze from the test that you had been trying to grade for the last ten minutes.
“Somethin’s wrong, and you’re not telling anyone—telling me.”
“I’m fine, Logan. Just tired.”
Logan scoffed. “Then you’ve been tired since you started working here, and it’s been getting worse. What’s going on?”
“Nothing.”
“Then you’re coming to the staff party tomorrow night, right?”
“I can’t. Josh—“
“Bring Josh. We’d all like to meet him.”
“I can’t go.”
“If I have to go, you have to go. You know how much I hate events like these.”
“Then don’t go.”
“There you are!” Ororo exclaimed, coming into the room. “Jean and I are going to go dress shopping in the morning for tomorrow’s party. You want to come?”
“I don’t know—“
“She’d love to,” Logan replied for you.
“Great!” Ororo replied, clapping. “Jean and I will pick you up from your apartment. See you!”
You stood up angrily and began throwing things into your bag. “You don’t know what you’ve done,” your voice was more shaky than your movements. “I need to go.”
“I’ll drive you,” Logan offered.
“No! You’ve done enough!” A stray tear trailed down your cheek.
“Y/N…” Logan reached out quickly to stop your movements, but you flinched away. Logan’s eyes went wide at your reaction.
“I’ve got to go,” you hurried out of the classroom.
It took a moment for Logan to bury the anger threatening to boil over and rush after you. “Y/N!” You winced at his raised voice as you continued out of the mansion and towards the bus stop. “Wait!”
“Leave me alone, Logan!” You shouted after him, trying to stop the tears that wanted to escape.
“Y/N—“ 
His fingers caught your elbow, trying to turn you around. As soon as Logan’s fingers touched you, you were on the ground, trying to scramble away from him. Logan froze yet again, staring down at you with wide eyes. You were now curled in on yourself, sobbing.
“Please,” you cried. “Please don’t hurt me… I’m sorry… I’m sorry… I’ll go… I’ll do whatever you want…”
Logan dropped to his knees slowly so as not to scare you off. His hands clenched his fists against his legs to stop himself from reaching out for you and to try to prevent his claws from coming out. He was going to kill whoever made you like this, and he had a sneaking suspicion of who that might be. He sat there, waiting for you to calm down. Eventually, you did calm down and were horrified at what had happened. Quickly sitting up, you couldn’t get yourself to look at Logan. You didn't want the pity or the anger or the concern. You grabbed your bag and stood up. Logan rushed to his feet.
“I’ve got to go,” you muttered.
“No,” Logan’s voice wasn’t loud, but the tone was clear. He did not want you to leave.
“Logan… please let me go. You’ll only make it worse.”
“You’re not going back there unless you can promise me that he’s not abusing you.” You closed your eyes, biting your lip as you tried to hold back the sobs. “I knew it. You’re not going anywhere near him again.”
“It’s not your choice, Logan… I… I love him, and he loves me. He’s just… going through a rough time right now, and I don’t always make it better.”
Logan’s jaw clenched. “You are not going back there.”
“I have to… he’s all I have.” You stepped back, causing Logan to quickly take a couple of steps closer. “Let me go, Logan. Please.”
“I can’t.”
“Yes, you can… you’ve been doing it for a year now. This is no different.”
Your words hit Logan harder than he could have ever imagined. You have been going through this as long as you’ve known each other, perhaps even longer. He grew angry at himself for not trusting his instinct that something was wrong sooner. You could see that Logan was tearing himself apart inside. Hoping that it would distract him enough, you ran off barely making it to the bus on time. 
Logan broke out of his guilt spiral too late. He ran after you, but the bus was already down the road. He slowed to a stop, watching as the bus faded in the distance. His anger wanted him to race to your apartment and pull you out of whatever situation might greet you, but he knew it wasn’t the best choice. He needed to talk to someone—to people who cared about you.
~~~
“Thanks for coming,” Logan mumbled, trying to keep himself together. 
Logan’s hands were stuffed into his jeans as he tried to keep his claws in check. He was standing near one of the windows in Charles’ office, having asked him to call everyone there. Jean, Scott, Ororo, Hank, and Charles were all seated around the office, waiting for Logan to speak up.
“Y/N’s being abused,” he came right out and said it.
“What?” / “No!”
Logan immediately noticed Jean and Charles share a look. He stepped forward. “You knew,” he growled. “You both knew.”
“We’d seen things in passing,” Charles sighed. “We both have tried to talk to her about it, but Y/N would brush us off.”
“You let her go home to that hell every day?!”
“It was her choice. She wouldn’t confirm our suspicions and didn’t want any help.”
“There’s only so much we can do if Y/N doesn’t want our help,” Jean added.
“There’s plenty we can do!” Logan countered. “We can go over there and bring her back!”
“It needs to be her choice, Logan,” Ororo said calmly. “We can’t force her into anything. She’s already living that life.”
“I can’t—“ He groaned, slamming his fists down on Charles’ desk. “I can’t sit here and do nothing!”
“That’s not what they’re saying,” Hank spoke up. 
“We make sure she feels safe here,” Charles said. “We make sure she knows that we care.”
“Jean and I are going dress shopping with her in the morning,” Ororo said. “We’ll check on her there.”
“Actually, I just got a message from Y/N,” Jean said. “She’s not coming anymore but said that Josh and she will be at the party.”
“We will not make a big deal out of it,” Charles gave Logan a warning look. “We will welcome Josh and observe the two carefully.”
“That’s not enough,” Logan grumbled before marching out of the room.
~~~
You had wanted to go with Jean and Ororo dress shopping, but Josh told you that it was pointless. That you had plenty of dresses that he had wasted his money on that you could wear on your ugly body. Of course, he said all this after he beat you.
You were extremely nervous as Josh drove the two of you to the mansion. He knew that you taught mutants, only okay with it because it paid well, but the others didn’t know his distain for mutants. You couldn’t let the nerves get to you, or there would be consequences. Josh was already upset that you were “forcing” him to go, but you knew he was trying to stake his claim on you somehow.
Josh didn’t bother to help you out of the car once he parked. He sauntered straight over to the large door and turned back with a scowl.
“Stop being so slow,” he griped. 
When you were close enough, Josh grabbed your hand, gripping it tightly as a warning, before the two of you entered. There were more people invited to this party than you thought. Looking around, you realized there were faculty members, previous graduates, and whoever they chose to bring.
“I thought you said this was a small party,” Josh said through gritted teeth. His nails threatened to draw blood from your hand.
“It’s what I was told,” you responded quietly, trying not to stutter as your anxiety grew. “I didn't know.”
“Stupid bitch.”
The sound of wood splintering made you jump and face the direction of where it came from. Logan was standing near the top of the stairs, hands on the railing that was clearly crushed by his grip. You swallowed nervously as you met his angered gaze. You knew it wasn’t towards you, but it still didn’t ease any of your anxiety.
“Logan,” you called, trying to sound happy. “Come down and meet Josh.”
Logan grunted, stomping down the stairs. Ororo walked in at the perfect time, noticing that Logan’s eyes were set on Josh. As soon as Logan made it down the stairs, Ororo slipped her arm through his and walked up to you and Josh.
“Hello, you must be Josh,” Ororo greeted. “I’m Ororo. We’ve heard so much about you.”
Josh let go of your hand and wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer to his side. “I hope all good things,” he responded, pinching your side. “And you’re Logan.”
“I am,” Logan replied, holding out his hand for Josh to take. Josh took it, and Logan quickly tightened his grip. 
Ororo quickly patted Logan’s arm, signaling for him to let go before he did anything more. Josh looked around, silently judging everyone who passed.
“I’ve never been around so many… mutants before,” Josh said, not hiding his disgust.
“Well, this is a school full of them,” Logan retorted.
“Ah! Here you are!” Charles rolled up, interrupting.
You quickly introduced Josh to Charles as Ororo pulled Logan away, promising him a drink.
~~~
Josh would not let you leave his grip the entire night. He was clearly on edge, which wasn’t helping your anxiety one bit. You kept finding Logan staring at the two of you from wherever he was located in the room. Though Logan was never too far. You were too busy thinking about Logan to notice Scott walking by with a drink. You stepped forward, causing Scott to trip and spill his drink all over Josh.
“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry, man!” Scott quickly apologized.
Josh gritted his teeth as he forced a smile. “It’s fine,” he said. He gripped your wrist tightly, making you wince. “We should go.” He began dragging you out of the party. “You stupid bitch,” he reprimanded as soon as the two of you were outside. “You never watch where you’re going.”
“I’m sorry, Josh!” You were already crying. “I’m sorry.”
“You will be. Just wait until we get home.”
“Wait until what, bub?” Logan was suddenly behind the two of you.
“Stay out of this.” Josh pushed you into the back of the car, slamming the door.
“That’s no way to treat a lady.”
“She’s my lady. I decide how she’s treated.”
Logan growled, unable to prevent his claws from slowly pushing out of his fists. You rushed out of the car and placed yourself between Logan and Josh.
“Logan, go back inside,” you urged. “Josh and I are heading home. I’ll be fine.”
“Listen to the lady, wolf,” Josh taunted.
Logan stepped forward, only for you to stop him with a hand to his chest. “Logan,” you called again. His eyes snapped to yours. “Go. I’ll be fine.”
“I don’t trust him,” he responded, voice tight. 
“Trust me then. I’ll be fine… I’ll call you if I need anything and see you on Monday, alright?” Logan growled. “Alright?”
“Fine,” Logan huffed. He stepped back, scowling at Josh, who simply smirked at him.
“Let’s go,” Josh said, pulling you back to the car. He helped you into the passenger side before driving the two of you off.
~~~
Logan couldn’t sleep that night. Not when Josh could be beating the shit out of you. He didn’t bother to change from the party, opting to pace his room. He was so caught in his head that he jumped when his phone began ringing.
“Y/N?” He answered it.
“L—Lo—Logan…” your trembling voice on the other end had Logan’s feet moving faster than he could think.
“I’m here, sweetheart.” He raced down the stairs and towards the garage.
��I need help.”
“I’m coming. I’m on my way. Are you safe?”
“He’s—He’s gone… He left to get more beer…”
“I’ll be right there. Don’t hang up.”
“…Okay.”
Logan’s heart was breaking with each word you said. You sounded so broken, so helpless. He absolutely hated it. Stealing Scott’s car, Logan raced for your apartment. He had to get you out of there before Josh returned. Who knew what that man would do to you if he had found out you had called for help?
Logan was out of the car so quickly that he barely put it in park. He took multiple steps at a time to get to your door.
“Sweetheart? It’s me,” Logan said, knocking and opening the door at the same time.
The apartment was a disaster. Items laid thrown around the room, some of them broken. Logan carefully stepped in, looking around for you. He sniffed, trying to use his senses to follow you. His heart dropped as he smelled blood. He followed the scent over to the bedroom, pushing open the door fully. The room was practically destroyed as well.
“Sweetheart?” Logan whispered, trying not to spook you.
“Logan?” Your broken voice sounded from the corner of the closet. 
Logan was quick to come to you, the movements making you cower further into the corner. He held his hands up, trying to show that he meant no harm. His eyes scanned your naked form, all bloodied and bruised. Logan had to stuff down the anger that was growing for Josh. You needed to be his focus.
“You came…” you rasped, almost like you didn’t believe he would.
Just when Logan thought his heart couldn’t break anymore, it did. “Of course I did. We need to get you out of here before he comes back.” He quickly slipped his jacket off and held it out to you. “Put this on.” You shakily took it, slipped into it, and zipped it up. “I’m going to carry you out of here, alright?”
“Okay…”
Closing your eyes, you bit back a wince as Logan carefully picked you up. He kept you close as he hurried down the stairs. He gently set you in the car, making sure you were buckled in before driving off. Logan gripped the steering wheel tightly as he drove you to the mansion.
You were still trembling when Logan pulled up to the mansion and carried you inside. Charles had warned the others of what had happened and ensured that Jean and Hank were already in the lab, ready and waiting. Logan set you down on the bed. Before he could fully pull away, you reached out and clutched onto his arm, fingers digging into his flesh.
“Don’t—“ you croaked. “Please, don’t leave…”
“Not planning on it, sweetheart,” he replied. “Just need a chair, and I’ll be right back.”
~~~
“She has a few broken ribs from tonight as well as various fractures,” Hank explained. You were on the other side of the lab, asleep, with Scott, Charles, Jean, Ororo, and Logan listening to Hank on the other. “Jean and I have stitched up the cuts and bandaged whatever needed. She has bruises of various ages that we have to watch, but we put ointment on them. Y/N will need a lot of rest and patience.”
“Has she said anything?” Ororo wondered.
Jean shook her head. “Not since requesting Logan to stay,” she responded. 
“That is to be expected,” Charles added. “She has spent years living in a traumatic environment. It will not be easy to break out of the habits and mindset she created to survive. She needs our care and patience the most, and we must respect her boundaries as she asks for them.”
“Jean and I are willing to split her classes so that she can take all the time she needs,” Ororo said.
Logan’s eyes were locked on you, waiting for you to wake. You had requested that he not leave your side, so he needed to make sure he was right there when you woke.
“I’ve already contacted a well-known therapist and asked them to stay with us for a while,” Charles informed. “I believe that it could help us all process whatever we need to.” He looked at Logan, who he knew was taking the blame on himself. “We should let her rest.”
“I’m not leaving her side,” Logan vowed.
“I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
~~~
The world felt heavy as you began to wake. But it was different, heavier than what had weighed you down the past four years. Like you were more on your own than you ever were before. It took you a moment to realize that you were in the lab under the mansion. Looking around, your eyes eventually stayed on Logan. He was in a chair next to you, passed out. His head had fallen against his shoulder with his feet perched up at the end of your bed. Logan’s position didn’t look that comfortable, but you were grateful that he hadn’t left your side.
“Logan,” you tried to wake the sleeping man beside you. “Logan.”
Logan suddenly snapped away. His feet fell off the bed, landing harshly on the ground. “What? What is it? What’s wrong?” He was looking around like he needed to protect you.
“Sorry,” you apologized with a light laugh. “You just looked uncomfortable.”
“Oh, yeah.” He ran a hand down his face, trying to wipe the rest of the sleep from his eyes. “The chair’s not that comfortable. But I’d do it again.”
“You can go to your room, Logan. I’m fine… I think.”
Logan shook his head and moved his chair closer. “Not very convincing, darlin’. Also, you asked me to stay, so I’m staying.”
“Why? I’m… weak, and I’m terrible, and I’m stupid—“
“Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey. None of that.”
“Why?” Tears streamed down your face. “It’s true.”
“None of it is true. It lies that—that Josh told you.” Watching for your reaction carefully, Logan took your hands in his. “You are better than him, sweetheart. You are better than what he made you believe you are. Trust me.”
“I… I don’t know how… to trust you… to trust myself.”
“You’ll learn.” 
“I… I don’t deserve your help.” You pulled your hands from his grip and looked away.
He sighed, carefully moving to sit on the edge of your bed. “Sweetheart, look at me.” It was such a gentle demand, but your head snapped to follow it. Logan immediately looked remorseful, realizing that he had caused you to do. The tears were still falling down your cheeks, causing his heart to sink. “Y/N, you deserve help. You know it, that’s why you called me.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t have—“
“Yes, you should have. And you should have done it sooner… Y/N… I…” He groaned, clenching his jaw and looking away. He needed to keep his emotions in check. You were what was important here, not him. “You could have died… Hank said that you could have internally bled out if the hits had been a bit different. I can’t—I won’t let that happen. You are worth more than some… some dick who thinks owns you.”
“I’m not—“
“Yes. You. Are. And we—I will spend as long as it takes to get you to believe that.”
“That might be a long time…”
“Good thing I have forever.”
Part 2 >
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elliehase-blog · 3 days ago
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We're simply meant to be
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I just had to write something about them. ❤️💜 This time it's longer than usual, and not proofread (sorry) but if you enjoy this little piece, you can read the rest on AO3.
~*~
In the afternoon, Roman is still quite relaxed. He polishes the blade of his sword, humming verses of Sally’s song. Hey, why not? He is only 51% sure that this is a kind of date tonight. It’s not as if Virgil was in any way clear with his all-but-nothing sentence.
»You're right, Roman. We can live like Jack and Sally if we want to.«
There. The word 'date' has not been used in any form.
Virgil had laughed at this point, to Roman’s utter bewilderment. A delightful little laugh that took up all of his attention and everything else outside had ceased to exist. And of course Roman had not known how to help himself other than to take the whole thing to the next level.
»And sit together, now and forever,« he had said, and had taken Virgil’s hands carefully in his. In this moment, Roman had only felt his heart pounding against his ribs in a whirling drum solo.
After that, Virgil had turned away in embarrassment and mumbled something that sounded like, »See you later.«
So maybe it is a date after all.
Perhaps.
(It’s certainly not.)
For seconds Roman bites his fingernails helplessly. He had seen so many cheesy romance movies in his life that he liked to consider himself an expert in the field. There was nothing to surprise him, as he knew all the signs and all the rules. And if you can no longer rely on cheesy romantic movies, then what?
But somehow all these rules never apply to Virgil.
How did they get here in the first place? Aren't they supposed to argue and fight like in the good old days? Sometimes, Roman likes to picture the deep, passionate rivalry he and Virgil have for each other. He imagines them having endless discussions about Disney characters, staring at each other in a fiery way. And when no one is around, Roman sighs deeply and longingly at this point and buries his heated face in velvety soft red silk pillows.
In the evening, Roman takes a look at his imaginary wardrobe and starts hyperventilating. He’s never had a no-date before. With nobody.
He has no idea what to wear and if he has any piece of clothing that says, 'When you look at me, I can’t breathe, and whenever you’re around me, I talk a lot more nonsense than usual, but if this is a date, I’d be totally fine with it.'
Lately, Virgil had just been too nice and peaceful around him. He means, nice… within the scope of his limited possibilities. Roman can’t say that this is terribly unpleasant, it’s just very… irritating. He has to do something. Or rather, he has to delegate this problem very quickly so that someone else does it for him.
Roman was great at delegating. This talent was practically innate. That's why he calls Logan.
»We have a… situation,« Roman explains dramatically. »I don't know what to wear!«
Logan throws a 'What do you want from me?' look at him. He raises his eyebrows wordlessly and completely unimpressed and makes absolutely no attempt to move even a millimetre from the spot.
»C’mon, Teach, I need your advice here!«
Usually, Logan would not have been his first choice in terms of clothing and taste, but he also has that unclouded and focused sight that Roman needed right now.
»Pleeeaaase!«
Logan sighs and Roman strongly assumes that this is supposed to mean agreement. Probably, Roman had convinced him with his astute argumentation and natural authority. That, or Logan, for once just doesn’t think a discussion is worth the trouble.
»What's the occasion?« he asks without further ado, pushing his glasses up in an unconscious gesture.
»Something… important,« Roman says vaguely.
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merakiui · 2 days ago
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going back to read your contractual fwb azul cause it’s my favourite fic ever and i have to wonder; what would azul do if you never used his wishes to your own advantage? like it was always small stuff, so you ended up having to get a new job (sex is banned and let’s pretend like theres some random cafe on sage island or something like that you’re picking up shifts. just not the monstro lounge) and the hours you work there give him less time. would he beg you to use his money? to take advantage of him? it feels like the terms he picked also come from a domestic standpoint of wanting to provide for you. and your new job is really getting in the way of that. rely on him and no one else >:(
(also i’d like to imagine you falling asleep sitting in his lap in his office chair sometime before the confession so he carries you back to his room and you spend the night. the next morning you wake up to him pulling away and in your extremely sleep deprived mind you get upset that he’s leaving. cue him promising he’ll be back—maybe a quick round just so he can get you to wish it and no it’s definitely not because he wants sleepy morning sex—and eventually he comes to wake you back up with flowers, tea (you know the one), and telling you you have a day off somehow.) thank you for listening to my tiny brain rambles
hiiiiiii this is just a question i forgot to add to my last ask that i submitted like 2 seconds ago.
how does your relationship with azul go now that you’re actually in one and not just fwb? like does he still spoil you with whatever you ask for in exchange for sex or just give it to you and sex happens whenever? (more than the average couple cause, cmon) he gave you the fish shoes even though you lost so it stands that he’d spoil the hell out of you whenever he can
- - -
Hi hiiii!! :D omg contractual fwb tako..... I miss thinking about that fic. Peak Azul is him developing a relationship with darling via contractual means and slowly but surely the feelings shift (through dubious efforts hehehe). >:D that dynamic is just so *chef's kiss*!!!!!
Oooo if reader got a job!!! If not at the lounge, which is secretly what Azul hopes, then the place better pay good wages and the hours and work better be reasonable!! >:( he won't have his angelfish struggle. Maybe he'd even visit you during your shifts on occasion and make up some excuse like "I need to know what sort of competition the lounge has" blah blah blah etc etc even though it's quite clear he's checking up on you. T_T I like to think Azul wants you to take advantage of him because it's a deal in which you're both using the other for certain things, so wouldn't that make the most sense?? That's how the logic works in his give-and-take, equivalent-exchange brain.
Azul gets really particularly when it comes to giving gifts and he always seems to want a valid reason for the exchange (like in Glomas where he buys souvenirs for his dorm so that they can remember this good deed and know that they are technically indebted to him even though to Deuce and Epel it appears as though he's just being a kind Housewarden). But also,,, he's so iffy when it comes to accepting gifts himself and always seems to think there's some underlying reason behind it. ^^;; perhaps he'd just feel more comfortable if you were openly using him and this deal to your benefit just as he's doing the same with you. It's probably why he even makes the terms so domestic because, beneath all of the pompous showmanship and businessman flair, he genuinely wants to provide for you and make your life better and be your beloved. <3 but because he's Azul he can't just tell you that. >_<
AAAAA FALLING ASLEEP IN HIS OFFICE!!!!! OTL waking up in his bed all bleary-eyed and sleepy....... grabbing at his arm and begging him to stay,,, the sleepy morning sex... maybe it's the one moment he allows just some of his defenses to fall because most of yours are nonexistent in this moment. Having sex just to have sex without any thoughts about your contract..... of course he's still going to remind you later and insist you use one of your wishes/favors since you technically indulged him with sex, but then you wanted it, too. He's so fussy!!!! Please just ask him for something—anything! He isn't going to beg, but sometimes you really do make him contemplate it when you're so determined to not make use of him and his connections.
You're one of Azul's greatest weaknesses and if you know this then you can easily exploit this because this tako adores you. He is so utterly whipped. Whatever you want, you can have it. Spoiling you is one of his many love languages. He loves giving you gifts, especially when he knows they'll make you happy. Like those silly fish slippers. They are so dumb, but they make his angelfish smile and that's enough reason to purchase them for you. I think once you're in a real relationship the fwb contract is dissolved, but a lot of what you did during those two months still occurs into your relationship. Like the smoldering tension and the chemistry. The silly banter and smart quips. The attraction. And of course lots of love (real and potion-induced mwahaha) and sex. He railed you once in mer form and you better believe he'll do it again now that he's slowly finding the confidence to do so with you.
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transformersandturtles · 10 hours ago
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Couldn't find any of this SO I WROTE MY OWN FOR A ONE SHOT‼️ I will write more but I thought this would be good for now‼️ I'm really sorry if this seems out of character for either of them, I've never written anything for them before. 🥲
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CW - Swearing, reference to explicit content, possible spelling errors (non reviewed)
Word Count - 2,017 words (10,995 characters)
𝑳𝒆𝒕'𝒔 𝑮𝒐 𝑺𝒉𝒐𝒑𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒈!
"Wade, is there anything you need from the store?" The gruff voice of Logan Howlett grumbled from the kitchen table, reading glasses resting on his nose as he held a small notepad and pen. He'd asked Al earlier if she needed anything, that wasn't illegal substances he had no way of getting his hands on, so now it was just a matter of asking his partner, who had just gotten back from walking Mary Puppins. He tapped the closed pen on the wooden surface, peering over the ridge of the glasses Laura made him wear. Who knew it was easier to read with glasses? He'd have to get something to thank her next time she came by.
"Oh! You're going shopping! Ooh, let's see!" Wade had quite the grin on his expression, taking off the harness and leash from the ever loving Dogpool, who he totally didn't get the owner of murdered so he could take her, and he picked her up, letting her lick his face as she was coddled like a baby in his arms. "We need more dog food," he spoke as he waltzed over to Logan, his hood falling down as he did so, "and more milk. Maybe some more eggs, and a pack of XL-" before he could finish, he felt something sharp poke at his throat.
"All that's on the list, except that last one. YOU can get that on your own time." The old Canadian scoffed a bit, not exactly in the mood to entertain Wade's thoughts. But he couldn't hold back a small grin when the other Canadian whined at the threat.
"Whaaaaaat? But Honey Badger, I can't go alone. They'd look at me weird." He protested, trying to be dramatic all for the sake of being dramatic.
"Uh huh, sure bub. . ." Logan put his claws away, grabbing the napkin off the table by his empty plate to wipe the blood away as the spot between his knuckles healed quickly. "So, there's milk, eggs, toilet paper, new beddings, steak, vegetables, beer. . ." He mumbled, setting the notepad down to write a few more things that came to mind. Wade set down Mary Puppins and he leaned over Logan's shoulder to figure out what other things were added. Toothpaste, mouthwash. . .
"Oh absolutely not." Wade reached for the pen to scratch out the body spray. "No way in HELL are you gonna buy Axe. Are you TRYING to smell like a skunk? Your musk is enough to make a room full of E-Sports players sick!"
". . . The fuck is E-Sports?" Logan wasn't sure if he should be insulted, confused, or both. But he wasn't too happy about the comment either way. "Also what the fuck is wrong with Axe? It's cheap and smells fine." He scoffed a bit. "I'm not trying to spend over $100 to smell good." He took off the metal framed glasses and placed them on the collar of his T-shirt under the teal-blue flannel.
"And I'm not saying you need to spend $100 to smell good, I for one think you smell amazing. Gets the body goin'. . ." Wade gave a cheeky grin with a chuckle, looking Logan up and down for a moment before looking back at the list. "But Axe is the worst one to use. If you want something to smell decent for work, I'd recommend Old Spice at the very least. Sure, the smell names are weird as fuck, but that comes with all male hygiene products. Women get all the sweet and nice sounding scents like peach vanilla or sunset cinnamon. . . Meanwhile we get stuff like Pine Jizz or Whales Fucking or-"
"Shut the fuck up, Wade. . . . Just shut up. . ." Logan let out a groan of annoyance, pinching the bridge of his nose for a moment. Wade had a grin on his face, laughing a little at how Logan told him to stop talking.
"I'm just saying, Peanut, if you get Axe then you're sleeping on the couch or out in the hallway." Wade warned, before leaning in to kiss Logan on the cheek. "I'll go get ready." He hummed, and left to the bedroom to change out of his sweatpants and hoodie.
"Yeah, yeah. . ." Logan mumbled in annoyance, putting his hand to his cheek to hide the light blush across his face. He huffed and stood up, stretching as his joints popped and cracked, from his lower back to his legs and neck. He popped his jaw a bit, before going to the coat rack to grab his brown leather jacket he got for a fairly good price last week. It was nice, not too tight but not too lose, and had some decent pockets. Perfect for carrying booze. . . Or other stuff he didn't want to pay for, maybe. He was THE Wolverine, and taxes were too expensive sometimes. Who was gonna throw him in jail if he shoplifted? No one, that's who. He adjusted the collar of the leather jacket, getting it how he wanted before stopping when he heard the bedroom door open. He looked at Wade, and stared at him almost dumbfounded. "You are NOT going out like that. . ."
"Why not, Peanut? You always like it when I dress this way." Wade teased, he wasn't serious about wearing the outfit in public, but he wanted a good reaction out of Logan. Besides, the outfit was pretty comfortable but no way in hell was he having enough confidence to show off his unicorn crop top and short-shorts. He didn't mind wearing it when he was having his great days; where he was overly confident and eager to show off his body despite the scarring. But today wasn't one of those days, especially since it was getting cooler as Autumn was coming in after what felt like eons of Summer. Wade did notice how Logan's complexion had turned a few shades of a deep red while looking, which also made Wade's cheeks turn a soft pink.
"Alright, alright, hurry up then. . ." Logan sighed softly, not even making a comment or retort to what was said because Wade was right. Logan crossed his arms over his chest, waiting for Wade but was surprised when the bedroom door closed again and he frowned. Did he say the wrong thing? Did he upset Wade? The mutant stood quietly but worriedly, his nose twitching a bit as he sniffed the air, trying to figure out if Wade was upset or not. It was hard to tell, so he stepped closer to the door. There didn't seem to be any low serotonin levels, they seemed about as normal as they could be for Wade. His nose continued twitching as he kept sniffing past the door, still trying to figure out if he upset his boyfriend or not, his ears twitching a little as well as he listened carefully. Before he could figure it out past the smell of everything else on the other side of the door, he was met once again with the face of Wade who seemed surprised at how close Logan was to the door. But that surprise soon turned to playful, mischievous grin.
"Aww, was someone worried about me?" He teased, wrapping an arm around Logan and leaning in to rub his nose against Logan's cheek. The gruff man scoffed with a growl, not out of hostility but annoyance, as he bit Wade's cheek with his big canines.
"Like hell I'd worry about you, dumbass. . ." Logan grumbled, moving away from Wade but didn't move too far so they could at least hold hands. "Let's go. . ." He sighed heavily, taking Wade's hand and going to the door to get their shoes on as Logan grabbed the keys to the apartment and put them in the pocket of his leather jacket with the notepad.
At the store, Logan had to keep holding Wade's hand so the younger wouldn't run off, who knows what that undiagnosed dork would go find and beg to have. Logan had his glasses back on as he looked down at the list in his hand. He had a specific order to get everything in, and if he had to deviate from that plan he might just lose it. Wade was very aware of his boyfriend's thoughts and methods, and honestly he didn't mind holding hands and walking with Logan, though he did stop a few times to look at something that caught his attention.
"We really gotta get you an appointment. . ." Logan mumbled as he gently tugged Wade along so they could keep shopping to get everything on the list. He headed over to the produce section, his hazel eyes gazing over the different fruits and veggies, letting go of Wade's hand for just a moment so he could find the perfect vegetables to cook for dinner. He'd started learning how to cook lately and had a nice dinner planned, so he made sure that the ingredients would be edible and not rotten inside or anything of the sort. He grabbed some potatoes, a few peppers, and for something sweet as a snack for later he grabbed some apples, a grapefruit, and a cantaloupe though it was slowly coming out of season and probably wouldn't taste as good as it does in the summer but he didn't care. He goes to check the ingredients off the list and turns to hold Wade's hand again, only to find the other Canadian had vanished. "Great. . ." Logan pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath before grabbing the shopping cart and continued with his shopping, knowing he'd find Wade eventually, tracking his scent wasn't that difficult due to the constantly dying and regenerating cells, along with the citrus-pine smell he had. His ears and nose twitched every so often as he leaned his elbows against the cart to push it, walking around and glancing around as he got cheese, milk, eggs, and some other things in the aisle, a gruff and raspy hum vibrating in his chest as he tapped his sharp nails against the metal bar of the cart while listening to the music playing through the store. It was crappy compared to what he liked, some hit pop song the youth enjoyed, but damnit was it catchy in the kind of way that it was really annoying but kinda good. He whistled a little, getting everything on the shopping list and went to the aisle full of booze before an announcement rang over the store's system.
"Logan Howlett, please come to the front. Your child is waiting." A bored teen girl sounded over, the tone of her voice a mix of boredom, with a hint that screamed she did not get paid enough to watch over someone or help. Logan raised a brow at this, confused. Laura wasn't here, was she? But then it clicked, and he groaned slightly with some annoyance. He grabbed two packs of the good beer and headed to the front, finding Wade near a desk who seemed happy and relieved once Logan arrived.
"Honey Badger! I was so worried you left without me!" Wade nearly tackled the older man the moment he could, and Logan grunted, a bit startled.
"You're the one who ran off, idiot. . ." Logan scoffed, glaring at Wade before looking down at the soft thing between them. "Wade. . . What the hell is that?" He frowned. Wade looked down, and a big grin was plastered on his face.
"Pompompurin! He'd be great to sit with Hello Kitty and Cinnamoroll!" He beamed, excited even as he held the large dog plush. Logan wanted to say no, to make him put it back, because who knows how much money that thing cost, but the longer he saw those big eyes, Logan eventually let out a groan of defeat.
"Fine. . . But you're payin' for it, bub. . ." Logan patted Wade on the shoulder, before taking him and the cart to the self checkout aisle so he could scan everything himself. Logan didn't like strangers touching stuff sometimes.
"Fine by me!" Wade grinned, watching Logan scan everything and he snorted a bit, amused by his odd yet loving boyfriend.
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sc4rrc · 12 hours ago
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Jealous much, but for a 'solid' reason
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- 2012!Donnie x reader - Jealous much, but for a 'solid' reason - Fluff - Warnings: None Request: Nope, just came up with this on my own whilst reading through some one shots of my personal favourite creators. You like Donnie, he likes you. But you're both as oblivious as ever, despite clearly showing each other that you care. And as a date is set between you and someone who is -clearly- NOT Donnie, he finds it hard to not feel jealous. ════════════════════
For quite some time, nearly since you met, both you and Donnie had held an affection for one another. Whether it was how he saved you and your friend, April, from the Kraang that first drew you to him, or the fact that he so easily got along with you from then on, it didn’t seem to matter. You became close from that point, and eventually you even took part in most of their missions—after you’d gotten more familiar with fighting through Splinter’s lessons.
A few problems did arise between the two of you though, like how oblivious you both seemed when it came to actually catching on that someone might be interested. Or the way doubt crept in because of your close friendship. He’d compliment you a lot, always ensuring your safety on missions, and you did the same for him. But somehow, you both missed the bigger picture. “It’s not something new; he worries about all of us during fights,” you’d tell yourself whenever April pointed it out.
And it was true; he always watched out for his brothers, too. How could he not? They were family. But there he was, watching you train, helping you improve when Splinter was busy.
Other times, you’d be the one to assist him. Sometimes you’d grab things from the top that he did not have easy access to, or simply keep him company in the lab to make sure he took breaks. Lunch, water—the basics. But one thing you both did constantly, no matter how oblivious each of you seemed in the moment, was stare. Even from across the room, one of you would be looking at the other. On movie nights, for example, you’d sit on the couch, Mikey on your right and Casey on your left, everyone focused on the screen—except Donnie, whose gaze would occasionally drift toward you.
He’d become well aware that he was absolutely, undeniably infatuated with you. Even he knew he sometimes went a bit too far with his attention, though his brothers never hesitated to tease him. Raph, mostly. But with his feelings also came doubt, for both of you. After so long, with neither of you daring to believe the other felt the same, you both wondered if it could ever work. You didn’t want to risk your precious friendship on a confession that might lead to rejection. So, silence it was.
“I don’t know, April. Just think about it. If I say something, and he doesn’t feel the same, then this might just ruin our friendship. And I don’t want that.”
Harsh words to admit, really. The thought wasn’t exactly pleasant. April had been trying for ages to nudge you both toward a confession, convinced it would lead to something good. Or maybe that was just the hopeless romantic in her, but she hoped nonetheless. And despite her efforts—along with the boys’ attempts to coax Donnie out of his safe shell—neither of you would budge. Sighing, she finally said, “That is fair, I suppose. But I still stand by what I said earlier. Forgetting doesn’t sound like the best alternative. I’ll help, but that doesn’t mean I’m agreeing with this plan.”
Her words made you smile in gratitude. Crushing on Donnie, though a genuine feeling, had become almost frustrating. He seemed so unaware of your feelings—close, yet so distant. It made you wonder if maybe he really didn’t feel the same. And yes, that stung a little. But it also made you realize that moving on might be necessary. For everyone’s sake, including your own. So, when a boy in your History class asked you out, you accepted. It felt like progress for a moment, but only for a moment. Soon, it became a test to see how quickly you could let go of Donnie, knowing that dwelling on him wasn’t helping you move forward. And after all, it was just a date—a way to focus on someone else. ════════════════════
When it came to being in that position—being told by the girl he couldn’t stop being so fond of that she had a date with some guy, a human guy no less—Donnie wanted to dig himself a hole in the lab and never come out. He’d imagined this day might come, and he felt like he was losing his chance—if he ever even had one. His heart sank as the words left your mouth, and it was hard not to show his disappointment. But for your sake, he put on a smile and congratulated you. He even wished you good luck. Then, once you left the lair, he retreated to his lab, shutting the door behind him, eyes focused on his work. Anything to avoid thinking about his growing jealousy, even for a moment. The others noticed the slump in his shoulders as he walked away but decided to let him be. They knew it might be a long evening in the lair, but they figured the situation might resolve itself—if it could.
--- Time Skip ---
Hours went by, some faster than others, and soon you found yourself back in your apartment, changed into a new set of clothes, ready to sleep the day away. Reflecting on what was supposed to be a date, you thought back to what he’d said: “Listen, I’m not really one for these serious things, ’kay? You’re cute, I’ll give you that. But I’ve got my ways around relationships, if you want to keep me happy.” That was about all you’d heard before mentally checking out of the “date.” He seemed nice at first but turned out to be a self-centred idiot—not the good kind of idiot either. And with all his talking, you made little effort to understand what he really meant.
You couldn’t recall the whole conversation, but you knew there was no way you’d repeat the experience. The things he said—about you and about others—were all wrong for you. He kept going on about some “party with girls” he had to get to, and the moment he crossed a line, you’d made your exit, realizing just how little interest you had in seeing him again.
You’d only just drifted off when a soft, rhythmic tapping at the window stirred you back to consciousness. Groaning, you pulled the blanket tighter around your shoulders and shuffled toward the window, squinting through the curtains. It could only be one of the guys, you knew, but the last thing you expected was to find Donnie, hanging upside down on the fire escape patiently, his expression hovering somewhere between nervous and excited.
Fighting back a laugh, you pushed the window open. “Donnie?” you whispered, the surprise obvious in your voice. “What are you doing here?”
He offered a tentative smile, voice low. “Hey. Sorry if I woke you. Just, uh… thought I’d check in. Make sure you got home okay.”
You laughed softly, raising an eyebrow. “It’s a bit late for a check-in, don’t you think?”
“Yeah, I know, but…” He shrugged, his calm exterior cracking just enough to reveal a hint of nervousness. “Couldn’t help myself. April mentioned the date didn’t, uh… go quite how you planned?”
A sigh slipped from you as you pulled the blanket around yourself a little tighter, rolling your eyes. April, of course. “You could say that,” you chuckled. “He was… something, alright.” You caught his amused grin, the faint hint of relief there not lost on you. You shook your head, feeling a smile tug at your lips despite it all.
Donnie’s face softened, his eyes meeting yours. “Yeah, well… I think you deserve better than that.” His voice was quiet, sincere, but even he looked surprised by his own words, cheeks darkening just a bit under his mask. “I mean, someone who’d treat you better than that. A lot better, actually.”
A warmth spread through you, his words settling in, making you feel a little lighter after such a disappointing night. His gaze hadn’t wavered, and you felt yourself holding your breath, caught off guard by how much his simple words meant.
“Thanks, Donnie. For worrying about me,” you said, the words barely a whisper. Before either of you could overthink it, you leaned out the window and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.
Donnie froze completely, his eyes wide, his usual calm vanishing in a heartbeat as he stared at you, utterly speechless. It took him a second—maybe two—before he swallowed, blinking a few times as if to process that the kiss had actually happened. A deep blush crept over his face, nearly reaching the edges of his mask.
“Oh. I, yeah.. Anytime,” he stammered, his voice slightly higher than usual. His hand moved almost instinctively to where you’d kissed him, and for a second, he was all but suspended there, entirely lost in the moment.
You bit back a laugh, giving him a little wave before you gently closed the window and pulled the curtain back in place. A small thrill ran through you as you moved back toward bed, a smile lingering even as you settled back under the blankets.
Outside, Donnie remained still, one hand pressed to his cheek, replaying the moment over and over in his head. A grin broke out slowly across his face, unable to hold back the ridiculous happiness building up inside him. "Oh, man... She kissed me. She actually kissed me.” He couldn’t help the ridiculous grin on his face as he clambered back up the fire escape, his heart still thudding as he slipped back into the shadows, feeling no more of that jealousy from earlier. Not even the knowing looks from his brothers as he made his way through the entrance of the lair brought him fully back, his mind still stuck in that moment.
════════════════════ A/N: Here's my first one-shot. I think it turned out pretty good, considering nearly half of what I made the other night in drafts did not save. But idk if I should make a part 2 for this? I could, if I feel like it. It also depends on what you guys want so I might pole it, but the main idea is that I did it. (Also I love Donnie so much, he's so bf material.) - I do NOT give permission for any of my work to be republished on any other sites, or even here. Not Ao3, not Wattpad, nowhere. This is simply for entertainment purposes and I would appreciate respecting this.
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dammarchy211 · 16 hours ago
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The Think Tank Random Headcanon List
Two people asked for this so that means it happening 👍 your welcome, most if not all of these r prewar/brain tank
-this one’s pretty supported in canon but think Dala likes fashion and dressing up🫶. I love giving her a fun little outfit
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Yay
-0 had back pains pre brain tank. Also a lot of fatigue. The certified professional sleeper. When he’s working on projects in his home he tends to do it lying on the floor.
-this one’s basically canon but 8 has arithmomania. I say basically canon bc things in his house in Higgs often come in sets of 8, as well as his house being the 8th house despite there not BEING 8 houses. I think this would also extend to counting to 8 on his fingers when he’s nervous and such.
-tied in I also believe 8 has ocd. Borous has bpd.
-Dala was pretty reserved growing up, as she grew up/especially in the looped personality it she became for lack of better terms bolder and more flirty as compensation for having been so withdrawn previously.
-I am wishy washy with a lot of gender headcanons for characters, my brain kinda just goes well idk if they’re trans but they’re not Not trans. However I do feel quite definitively that Dala is nb transfem, and Mobius and 0 are trans men.
-I think all of there names have some tie to the names they had pre recursion loop. Canonically both Klein’s name and his prewar last name start with K. I think the other’s names have similar ties.
-on that note, I think Borous’s old name (/just his family in general) has Painfully Russian origins. It makes his McCarthyism thing so hilariously ironic
-I think 8 is Canadian, but he only lived there pre annexation of Canada, he was working at big MT and living at Higgs once it happened.
-0’s old last name used to be “O’something” and people still used to call him Dr. O then and he still hated it. Doomed fate
-re: Mobius being trans, i think his first name was Edward. He named himself after Dr. Morbius from the movie The Forbidden Planet
-Klein is a big wine guy, like obvious there’s wine bottles strewn about his house, but I mean like. He’s the kind of guy to just know things about every kind of wine.
-Klein is probably the best dressed after Dala, I think he just tries to be professional for the most part. 0 thinks he’s fashionable but he isn’t. Already mentioned but Mobius dresses like an old lighthouse keeper. Cableknit sweater and the works. I think he’d also like antique pipes
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I’m probably gonna alter the Klein outfit but yeah you get the idea. Doodles
-I feel SO STRONGLY ABOUT THIS. But 0 and Borous went to high school together. 0’s one line mentioning Borous in high school was just way too telling.
-Klein and Mobius need reading glasses. Dala used to need glasses, didn’t wear them throughout her childhood until like college, and then switched to contacts after college
-The think tank are all very close and got along much better prewar than they do at the time of the game. They kinda Jean-Paul Sartre No Exit’d themselves and their personalities are stuck in an endless loop. To say the least they started getting on each other’s nerves after 200 years. But this is to say they didn’t still bicker or anything prewar
-8 never really liked talking much. Possibly having selective mutism. This was mostly fine for him because pre brain tank you have facial expressions and hands and hand gestures that kinda make up for not talking at times. After the brain tanks he was kind just. Forced to talk to relay information. His speech was extremely awkward and stilted, which combined with the above head canon is why Dala made that comment about how they light him better now that his voice modulator is broken.
-they all have autism of some flavor tbh. To me. In my autistic mind.
-dead animal ment.// but I feel like Borous was that kid who like poked at dead squirrels and shit as a kid. It frames the Gabe and cyberdog thing well lol
-I’m an 8/0 head so I think they worked together a lot. Even if it’s not on the same project they would just do thinks at the same time together.
-the mentats on Klein’s bedside table are Mobius’s
-0 used to be a super big fan of House and RobCo when he was in high school. Obviously that is no longer true
-0 excels at making robots that are smaller. He doesn’t want to acknowledge this though. Muggy and his walking eyes (w/ wild wasteland) are both pretty small but they work well. The larger scale securitrons he’s tried to make obviously. Do not.
-I think the lounge music theme for the radio was a collective choice, but I feel like Dala especially likes music like that.
-Klein and Mobius used to play games like chess or checkers or card games “outside” in Higgs old person style.
-post brain tank one (woah) Klein has fleeting feelings of missing someone or something he can’t recognize. Any memories tying it to an image of a person he doesn’t quite remember. His brain just doesn’t connect that it’s Mobius and he usually just pushes the feeling down whenever it happens lol
If I think of more I’ll add them.
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ellitx · 2 days ago
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Helloooow!
Your blog is like nectar to a starving hummingbird in the deseeeeert there is not enough Venti content on the fanfiction side of this fandom istg so THANK YOU for taking care of us Venti fans!
I read through quite a lot of your works (and Venti centered works in general) and I noticed a trend in all of the darlings either being reserved and shy / standoffish or being gentle and incredibly soft-spoken / naive.
No doubt about Venti actually falling for someone like that since opposites attract, but I was wondering if you could imagine him with a more confident and extroverted darling as well?
A type of darling that has a "so what if people will look on? Maybe they want to secretly join in on being silly, too!"- attitude and is non-flirtatiously playful / witty? And perhaps isn't as easily foiled or can see through people's intentions a little more clearly since she has experience with dealing with different personalities.
Someone who would pull all the other shy people into the dancing circle and is pretty good masking embarrassment / faking it until she makes it!
Would it aggravate Venti even more to get her flustered? Or is that a type of darling he wouldn't even bat an eye towards? What do you think?
Extroverted darling is the type who venti will enjoy having a drink with at the tavern
They’d get along pretty quick if darling is able to give the same energy as venti’s, though when it comes to romance, it would take some time for him to fall for them. If in a scenario, darling was the one who fell first, he’ll immediately notice but won’t say a word. He doesn’t want to presume but he does give flirtatious remarks
But if we’re speaking that he’s a yandere, he would enjoy another bright presence. He’d let you run wild and surprisingly he’s not very restrictive. He still wanted you to enjoy life and be yourself. The thing that makes it frightening for yan venti with an extroverted darling is, well, manipulating your feelings.
And if darling fell for him, he’d definitely take advantage of it. He didn’t missed you were throwing hints at him, but he’s feigning ignorance. He wants to hear you say it to him directly. Even if you joked that you love him or you want spend your life together with him, he’ll take that as a confession seriously and claiming you’re “officially” together.
What’s worse is that if you like drinking and you have low alcohol tolerance, he’ll take advantage of it as well. He puts on the bestest-best friend facade with you. Obviously he doesn’t do anything to you when you were getting to know him. Nothing of that sort you’d imagine.
If you get drunk, he’d carry you home and joked about not reaching his level. When you passed out the first time you were with him, you were on your guard. You woke up with the evening sky greeting you and jolting up immediately, you almost knocked Venti out.
He stayed with you throughout the night, accompanying you back to your home as you thanked him for watching over you. It became a norm for you both that either would pass out and the other would care for them. That’s why you prefer drinking with him. You’re guaranteed he’ll handle you if you want to get yourself drunk and have fun dancing at the tavern when he plays his music.
Everything he does are so normal you don’t even see anything malicious.
He’d bring you to the tavern for a drink, chatting on your way there. But upon entering, all seats were occupied. There must be a celebration and a lot of the knights were inside. You all searched from top to bottom for any vacant seats, but none can be found. You can’t go to cat’s tail because of his allergies, and you aren’t letting Venti steal a bottle. Otherwise, you’d be counted as his accomplice.
When one client finally left, he took the seat and you’re just there… standing. He arched his brow and asked you to sit. You’re baffled by his question until he patted his lap with an almost casual confidence, clearly unfazed by the bustling crowd around you.
You hesitated, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. His suggestion was bold, to say the least, and though you were no stranger to his antics, this felt different. You quickly denied but he just sighed and propped his chin on his palm.
Why would you be so embarrassed? You’ve been friends for a long time and frequently flirting back and forth so how was this any different? Everyone in the town already knows how close you are with him. Even Diluc knows your frequent shenanigans with this bard.
His fingers drummed lightly on the wooden table, tapping in rhythm with the music playing nearby, waiting for you to move. The packed room left little space to move, making it clear that finding another seat was out of the question. Eventually, with a resigned sigh, you took a step closer, noticing the faintest glimmer of satisfaction across his face. He shifted, making room for you as his arms rested lightly at his sides, inviting yet unassuming.
You sat on his lap, trying to keep your composure as he adjusted to ensure you were comfortable. When he called the bartender and ordered your usual drinks, you looked away to hide your red face. Usually, you’d brush it off and come up with an excuse, but your mind was running in miles you couldn’t think clearly. You could feel his breath close to your shoulder, relaxing with you there, as if this was the most natural thing in the world.
The music grew louder, voices around you rising in cheer, but you found yourself catching his hand drifting over your thighs. At first you ignored it, thinking his hand was just there to rest. But when you felt his palm rubbing up and down your skin, your cheeks warmed up with your mouth agape.
You wanted to scold him, question what was he doing. As you turned to him and opened your mouth, Charles arrived with your drinks, placing the mugs on the table. Venti thanked him, leaving you a bit awkward when he grabbed his drink. You though he finally stopped, and you weren’t going to bother bringing it up to him— assuming it was just his gesture of concern for his best friend— but his hand returned between your thighs.
His fingertips brushed up against your inner thigh, gliding slowly up. You pushed his wrist, the slightest signal to stop and to avoid unnecessary commotion, but he just drank as his fingers ran close between your legs. You tugged his hand but instead he slipped his finger in yours, twining them in place. His eyes were focused straight ahead, expression completely neutral, and unfazed.
Your were so confused, trying to grasp what had gotten to him. Venti was forward, but not this forward. Maybe it’s a sort of gesture to calm you. You were pretty flustered back there when he offered his lap, and you already knew how touchy he was. But this didn’t seem like…
You grabbed your tankard and took a heavy gulp, pushing down any conflicting emotions. Sure, you like him and even joked having feelings for him, but that’s because you didn’t want to ruin your friendship.
He loves wine and jokes. He sings for every event and playfully flirts. And you? You love him. That sounds stupid but it's the truth. If only you could muster courage and confess to him. If only you could get on his good side to the extent where you two would have romantic kind of moment without the need for alcohol.
You asked Charles for another glass and you didn’t notice his hands crept under your shirt. You were too drunk to differentiate the sensations swarming over your skin. His fingers stroked along the sensitive curve of your stomach, the other arm firm around you as you glanced at him, he didn't seem bothered. His lips moved as if he was talking to you, but you couldn’t hear anything when the music was too loud and the knights were clamouring. You simply hummed, nodding along to whatever he was saying.
He offered you another glass and you accepted. The drink was stronger this time, or maybe you were finally feeling the weight of each glass catching up to you. The room swayed slightly as you raised the glass, taking another heavy gulp, the world beginning to blur.
You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or the emotions you’d been trying so hard to drown that made the warmth creep into your cheeks, a sensation almost too intense to ignore. Somewhere deep down, you knew you were pushing past your limit, but here, with Venti’s laughter echoing somewhere beside you, it didn’t feel so bad.
He watched you carefully, concern crossing his usually carefree face as you reached for the next drink. His smile lingered, as he subtly moved closer, reaching out a steadying hand as you swayed again. The tavern lights glimmering above in dizzying patterns. You tried to flash him a reassuring smile, but a small giggle left your lips as you felt something ticklish on your stomach.
You were vaguely aware of his fingers brushing against you, grounding you just enough to stop the world from spinning. The voices in the tavern grew more distant, their laughter fading off. Somewhere along the way, you lost count of how many times you’d tried to quiet your thoughts. You leaned your head against his shoulder, watching his lips move, his voice softer, almost soothing, though you couldn’t make out the words. His breath brushed against your ear and you nodded absentmindedly.
The last thing you felt was Venti’s arms wrapping around you, his voice a quiet murmur lost to the noise as he carried you out of the tavern.
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marshalllir · 3 days ago
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Finally, thanks for the apology! It's a pity, of course, that you didn't create your own post, but continue to write under the artist's post (and write hate words to them for their work) and don't tag anyone so that no one will even see this post in the end. But I'll do it for you, don't thank me. @frankbigfan @kr9vorebeazt @dicktat @hostik
If you want to answer, answer my post, and leave dott-fox alone in a good way.
You apologize to everyone, but you keep insulting one of us. It's disrespectful and unfair, to say the least, and it would be strange to think that after all my posts, I won't defend they.
The freedom of one person is pumped where the freedom of another person begins. Of course, you have the right to do what you like (by the way, are you going to apologize for pdf content?). You're just being asked to get away from people and stop pestering everyone with your beloved Frank. None of us hate Frank, but the way you've been trying to shove him down our throats for two years makes us all sick, and some of us really started hating Frank because of this whole situation, which wasn't the case until now.
Read more:
There are quite a lot of works on AO3 and on the ficbook where Frank is mentioned, I know artists who painted Frank, yes, it was a long time ago, but the fact remains that there is content with Frank.
Creating any kind of fandom creativity isn't a snap of the fingers. It's hours and hours of work, hard work. You wouldn't like it if people came to you in comments on your art and fucked up why you don't draw Juan, Aitor, Williams, Brooks - any other less popular characters. So you stop imposing on people. Or, learn to respect the work of other people and offer money for commissions, rather than asking for free requests that no one is obliged to draw for you.
Popular ships in fandoms are a fact. Once upon a time, there were only a couple of works about Haiden, and no one knew about them. People were united by love and interest in them. Find like-minded people. You will not be able to impose interest on people. You will only alienate people from yourself by such behavior. It's normal that a particular ship or character doesn't find popularity, and it's stupid to get mad at it. Make content yourself or pay money to other people, respecting their time and work, if you can't do it yourself.
You don't need to hide behind your problems with interacting with society. None of us hide behind diagnoses, for example, and you shouldn't try to make yourself a victim. Everything that is happening now is just the result of your actions. Accept it and stop fidgeting like you're in a frying pan.
Don't judge other people by yourself, especially their age. Absolutely all the participants in the conflict are older than you. Many are already of age, and some are well over 20 years old.
And yes, no one called you names or got personal. We didn't bully you. We only pointed out your actions and words without touching your personality in any way. So don't lie that someone told you to "fuck you bitch idiot" or attach screenshots where someone actually did it.
~~~
Наконец-то спасибо за извинения! Жа��ь конечно, что ты не создала свой собственный пост, а продолжаешь писать под постом художника (и писать ему слова ненависти за его творчество) и никого не тэгать так, что этого поста в итоге никто даже не увидит. Но я сделаю это за тебя, не благодари. Если хочешь отвечать, отвечай под мой пост, по-хорошему отстань от dott-fox.
Ты извиняешься перед всеми, но продолжаешь оскорблять одного из нас, это мягко говоря неуважительно и несправедливо и странно было бы считать, что после всех моих постов я не буду его защищать.
Свобода одного человека закачивается там, где начинается свобода другого человека. Конечно ты имеешь право делать то, что тебе нравится (кстати ты собираешься извиниться за пдф?). Тебя лишь просят отстать от людей и перестать приставать ко всем со своим любимым Фрэнком. Никто из нас не ненавидит Фрэнка, но от того, как настойчиво ты пытаешься два года запихн��ть нам его в глотку - нас всех уже от этого тошнит, а некоторые действительно начали ненавидеть Фрэнка из-за всей этой ситуации, чего не было до этого момента.
На АО3 и на фикбуке достаточно много работ, где упоминается Фрэнк, я знаю художников, которые рисовали Фрэнка, да, это было давно, но факт остается фактом, контент с Фрэнком существует.
Создание любого фандомного творчества это не щелчок пальцев, это часы и часы работы, это труд. Тебе бы не понравилось, если бы люди приходили к тебе в комментарии к артам и доебывались, почему ты не рисуешь Хуана, Айтора, Уильямса, Брукса - да кого черт возьми угодно. Вот и ты перестань навязываться людям. Или же научись уважать труд других людей и предлагай деньги за коммишки, а не проси бесплатные реквесты, которые никто не обязан тебе рисовать.
Популярные пейринги в фандомах это факт. Когда-то и о хэйденах была всего пара работ и никто не зал о них. Людей объединила любовь и интерес к ним. Найди себе единомышленников. Ты не сможешь навязать людям интерес, ты только отторгнешь людей от себя таким поведением. Это нормально, что какой-то конкретный пейринг или персонаж не находит популярности, и злиться на это глупо. Делай контент сама или плати деньги другим людям, уважая их время и работу, если не можешь сделать этого сама.
Не нужно прикрываться своими проблемами с взаимодействием с обществом, никто из нас не прикрывается диагнозами, например, и тебе не следует пытаться делать из себя жертву. Все, что сейчас происходит это лишь результат твоих действий. Прими это и перестань вертеться как уж на сковородке.
Не суди других людей по себе, особенно об из возрасте. Абсолютно все участники конфликта старше тебя, многие уже совершеннолетние, а кому-то далеко за 20 лет.
И да, никто тебя не обзывал и не переходил на личности. Мы тебя не буллили, мы указывали лишь на твои действия и слова, никак не трогая твою личность. Так что не надо врать, что кто-то говорил тебе «fuck you bitch idiot» или прикрепляй скрины, где кто-то действительно это сделал.
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yumedoca · 6 months ago
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Do you have any Ranma 1/2 ships, I just wanna hear and won't judge? ;)
Hai there, hope you're doing great!!
Let's just say, THE Ranma 1/2 ship to me is Rankane. It's the typical Rumic couple situation: both are idiots and hilariously dysfunctional; but they truly love, care and will support each other no matter what, even if it seems like there's no one else by their side. Ships like that fulfill both my love for comedy and romance at the same time and to me, RT writes them with a perfect balance of both, and Rankane is no exception.
I really love how Ranma and Akane start out and how they grow throughout the series. They hated each other at first (for justified reasons) but as they get to know more about how the other, they slowly start to care and eventually fall for the other. They're just silly little idiots X3
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As for any other ships, I'm fine with most of the other popular ships (not involving Ranma and the rest of his suitors, cuz to me Akane's the only one for him), I think Ryokari (Ryoga and Akari, is that even their ship name?? Idk) is probably one I love more than the other ships, though not as much as Rankane, they're just super cute and I couldn't help but root for them while reading the manga, lol.
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kyouka-supremacy · 1 year ago
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Uhm..................
#I got an ask‚ and to answer I was bracing myself to make a big bsd content masterpost#And I did! I was already on my way to share all the manga reading platform I use for every manga‚ I had already listed them up#And I was going to add the additional content like anime streaming resources and art scans resources...#But now I'm having some serious reconsiderations#Like I was happy to make a masterpost! Making masterposts is fun-#and fuels the autistic need to put every little thing in little categories#But now I don't know if it's... Safe to have them all in one place?? I was very glad to share with people the resources I personally use-#but I really don't want to make something that is just. A big list of sites to report / shut down. The thought scares me immensely#And I thought it was safe to share manga reading platforms on Tumblr but what about‚ to name one‚ n/yaa? Would it be safe to link to that?#And it's something I'd highly want to include because some stuff that's there you won't find anywhere else‚#such as the Dead Apple official English translation‚ the official Beast English scans...#Same would go‚ to make another example‚ for m/initokyo‚ or anime streaming platform.#Is it safe to share those... Uhm... More hidden websites through Tumblr? And if not‚ do I have any alternative for sharing?#I'm quite sad because I was already half way through making the list-#but now I'm not sure it's worth to continue if I never end up sharing it.#But then again the safety of people who share content has the maximum priority to me– I wouldn't be able to do ANYTHING without them#Mmmmmmmmmmmhhhh...#I even contemplated sharing the masterlist through text file‚ but I'm not sure if that might work out.#For one‚ I will never EVER use g/oogle docs or any g/oogle service for the matter. I'd rather die#So... I'd really appreciate it if anyone could advice me on this / had any suggestion / thought#random rambles#Sorry for the long ramble. I'm stuck
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youraveragecatastrophe · 1 year ago
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We’ve talked in the past about Julia’s red shirt (in her season 1/season 4 outfit) showing her sympathy towards Carmen. What about other parts of her outfits?
First, to contrast with the red shirt peeking through her dark pantsuit, we have Julia’s ACME suit.
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[ID : two cropped screenshots from the 2019 show Carmen Sandiego. The first one shows Julia Argent on the train in India, in her dark suit with red shirt outfit. The second one shows Julia in Rio de Janeiro, in her ACME suit. End ID]
The ACME suits, being uniforms, are all the same (the biggest difference being skirts for the women vs pants for the men), the same way the agents are asked for uniformity, conformity and following orders.
The suits have no color apart from a navy so dark it’s close to black - in fact, depending on the lighting they look almost black and white. Quite like their way of thinking.
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[ID : a screenshot from the 2019 show Carmen Sandiego. Agent Zari and Random White Agent stand on either side of a door. They are in the shadows and their uniforms look dark and desaturated. End ID]
As I noted on a previous post, at the same time Julia receives her suit and as such lets go of her red shirt, she is asked to renounce her feelings that Carmen is innocent. Season 2, where she almost exclusively wears the ACME uniform, is the one where Julia briefly doubts Carmen and struggles to reconcile following her superior’s orders with her convictions. Ultimately, when she does not manage it, she resigns (season 3) and as such goes back to her red shirt outfit. It is in that outfit that she teams up with Carmen in a substantial way in season 4.
Other agents (and, notably, agent Zari, the most featured ACME agent apart from Julia and Chase) tend to wear black gloves. In line with their behavior, this suggests keeping a distance with their environment, refusing to feel things too deeply. Julia doesn’t wear gloves, however, not even in Stockholm where the weather would definitely justify it. Despite Chief's insistance, Julia keeps paying attention to her feelings.
Then, Julia’s glasses. Her glasses in seasons 2-3 are ACME regulation eyewear : once again, they’re part of the uniform, so the same model as the other ACME agents. Big, bulky, they’re almost rectangle in shape, all sharp angles : this suggests rigidity and an absence of flexibility in ACME’s mentality. Also note the dark lenses : they symbolically obscure the vision.
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[ID : a screenshot from the 2019 show Carmen Sandiego. In Indonesia, Zari and Random White Agent stand against the sky. Their glasses' lenses are noticeably very dark. End ID]
And what about Julia’s original glasses, the ones she wears before joining ACME and those she returns to as she leaves ? They are the exact opposite of the ACME glasses : round and clear, what you need to look at the world as it is.
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[ID : a cropped screenshot from the 2019 show Carmen Sandiego. In San Francisco, Julia wears her red shirt outfit with her round glasses. End ID]
#carmen sandiego 2019#julia argent#if you think i'm reading too much into this. yeah. i'm me. reading too far into tiny details is what i do#(though tbh i keep going from 'this is reaching right?' to 'this is so obvious i'm breaking down an open door' so...)#and let me tell you i'm having the time of my life#you wouldn't imagine the glee i felt thinking about this#mentally i'm lying oin my bed giggling and kicking my feet as i type this#that post wasn't lying. the most fun a girl can have is analyzing making connections seeing patterns etc#anyway with all that (see: post) in mind if i had been in charge of the show i would a. have put julia in a uniform with pants#oh my god that skirt is the ugliest thing i've seen in my life.#also i want julia to be butcher#b. maybe more importantly i would have made julia wear her uniform sliiiightly wrong#like sometimes her tie isn't well fastened. or her vest is partially unbuttoned#or like that moment in rio where she says she still believes in carmen's innocence and her glasses are low and she has to recenter them#(they sort of have that with the gloves but she's not the only agent not to wear them so it doesn't really go all the way)#idk. like she tries to fit it tries to just put her head down and work tries to get into that mold acme wants her to be in#and she's. not terrible at it. she's used to being discrete and working well#with only a quick look you think she's perfectly in line with the other agents. a closer look however tells you otherwise#and shows you how she's not quite at ease with what's asked of her and it makes her miserable#which leads to her leaving acme later#do you see my vision
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as-rare-as-trees · 1 year ago
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Repost of a Wang Yibo in watercolor I did in 2020 taking ispiration from my favourite photoshoot of his
#my art?#why a repost and not a reblog you might ask?#because I feel like I was too annoying in the original caption but I don't want to edit the post#anyway reposting because I took it out to hang it on my wall again and was like -wth?? how did I do this??-#like yeah it's not perfect etc#but I'm 99% sure I would NOT be able to do sth like this rn#I continue to believe I do my most elaborate pieces while possessed i would not know how to explain this#or my mahmood poster#or my wwx in the red dress#or lwj with the pearl dress (which you don't know but trust me)#every time I start working on sth I feel like the meme of patrick star with a hammer in hand and a wood plank nailed to his head#do i actually learn sth when I do art?? or do I just somehow manage to do things#and then if I find the magical motivation or a willing spirit I manage to do it again?#otherwise I just cry and struggle and quit?#don't know guys this is too much of a mistery#anyway bazaar photoshoot <333#wang yibo#my beloved#actually#for this or like mahmood I can almost understand#i guess that since it was strictly a copy of a reference it was a tad easier knowing where to place the colors for example#tho still I don't know how the rendering had such a result#update: okay I'm going through a sketchbook of that time period and I was practicing a lot with watercolors so maybe that helped#also I was truly using wyb as my muse and guinea pig#i have a piece of him in acrylics and one done with chalks this with watercolor some attempts with crayons#okay ow getting kinda sad cause I'm realizing I used to do art so so often even if it was all copying references#and I think I was also still reading at the time? uhmmmmmmmmm#jhjhkh lots of pencil and pen drawings as well somebody had just watched cql#i do have some xiao zhans but I have always had more difficulty drawing him dkw#arting
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foldingfittedsheets · 4 months ago
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When deciding who to work for there is a sliding scale of employers that goes from lil mom and pop shops up to corporate monoliths. I have worked at both ends of the spectrum and I can pretty definitively say that tiny businesses are hands down the most insane employers.
The sweet spot is a place that has like 10-20 stores; that’s the best possible work environment. They’ll be polished enough to have protocols that make work structured, but not so bogged down with bureaucracy that nothing can ever get done.
This story is not from that sweet spot. This story is from my time working at Oil and Vinegar. Now, like many little franchise stores, the idea was solid. There was on tap imported olive oil and vinegar and it was really delicious. Top shelf. Unfortunately, each location was like the Wild West because owners varied wildly.
My owner was the human embodiment of Mr. Krabbs. His eyes were just constant dollar signs. Throughout my training he informed me of the price of every single piece of equipment I touched and how much it cost to replace it.
He had cameras set up to watch us, and an app on his phone to access the live feed. He’d call us to ask what we were doing when he’d just checked a camera to make sure we were being honest.
Now, the trouble was he had two locations. His location further south did amazing. It was way more centrally located and got three times the foot traffic. The one I worked in was in the snottiest mall possible in Arizona and consequently the rent was through the roof.
It was not going well for my store. We didn’t get as much traffic, so there was only so much I could do in a day. I could dust, sweep, and wait for customers. I read a lot and was frank when he called to interrogate me. I always asked for additional tasks but he never had any. What could I do to prop up a failing business?
But this man was convinced there was some Secret Reason that the store I was in was doing worse. He crunched numbers, looked at staff, and eventually hit upon the most insane possible solution.
We used too much toilet paper.
We were probably stealing toilet paper! Bleeding him dry one single ply square at a time! How dare we need to use the bathroom?! His south location used half as much toilet paper as we did, we must be thieving little monsters!!!!
Friends. The south location was populated entirely by men. My location had three people on staff who had to sit to pee. It was so blindly transparently the source of the discrepancy but this man was convinced we were making off with toilet paper to bankrupt him.
So he implemented what he believed to be an entirely reasonable response to this base treachery. We were allowed to have one roll of toilet paper. At any given time, one roll was permitted to us. This was so transparently unhinged that we protested but he insisted. If we were low on toilet paper we needed to call him to drop off a roll that he brought from his home. Smiling jovially, he assured us he lived so close by that it would be no problem!
When we needed to call him often for more he started tearing his hair out. What were we using toilet paper for?! Why wasn’t his genius plan to stop our scandalous waste working??!
Finally, the manager, the only man on staff had to pull the owner aside and be like, “Look, man, their bladders are smaller. They need to wipe every time they pee. They need to pee even more on their period. Is this really the hill you want to die on?”
Yes. It was. The manager was fired unrelated reasons and denounced as a traitor. The toilet paper ration lasted until I quit and probably until the store closed six months later.
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