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it-was-funeral-grey · 1 year

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And away (Al Haitham x F!Reader)

Prequel Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Extra 1 Masterlist

Summary: now that all that's settled, it's time to head back to vimara village. (all hail imaginary kaveh)

Warnings: mentions of medicine, the meat industry and its processes, economics macro and micro, boat travel, awkwardness, denial, internal battles, vulgarities, mild injuries (sprained ankle), carrying, mentions of sanitary pads, ect, spying on friends .

Word count: <4.3k words

Inspired by: Telephone - Waterparks

"I know we only just met, so why do I feel invested?"

Author's note: i had to dig out all my economics knowledge for this lol. i still almost failed econs so just pretend that i make total sense for the sake of the story pls. Also, i may come back and mass re edit this.

Thank you for all the lovely comments for part 3! it really made my day! i'm sorry if this part isnt as good as the rest! I tried

Please give criticism! Also, if i missed any warnings, do tell me so i can add them!

Out of all the issues Al Haitham has to deal with, Port Ormos is the most pressing and the source of many other problems.

No trade means no business. No business means no jobs. No jobs mean no work, which means no income for both Sumeru and the people. And especially since Port Ormos is Sumeru's main port, national income has taken a hard hit. Akademiya economists have been sending him report after report about their concerns about Sumeru's economic forecast. It does not look good.

In addition, no trade means that Sumeru doesn't get new resources anymore. While Sumeru is mostly self-sufficient food-wise, many resources still cannot be obtained locally- or are mostly imported. And since Port Ormos is both Sumeru's largest and main port, lots of imports are not coming in anymore.

For example, there's currently a national shortage of cold medicines, which Sumeru usually imports from Snezhnaya. Particularly during monsoon seasons, cases of colds, dengue fever and the flu increase amongst the population. But Snezhnayan traders and businesses have pulled away from Sumeru after the Akademiya scandal. Bimarstan had gotten so desperate for cold medicine that it had begun asking locals to donate their leftover medicine. To ease the burden on the Bimarstan, Al Haitham had ordered Amurta to help mass manufacture medicines. However, this is only a stopgap measure. He needs to find a way to solve the root cause of the problem.

Furthermore, inflation has been a growing issue. The situation isn't so bad in Sumeru city, as its tiny port is still running- albeit not as smoothly or vibrantly as it used to. But in other parts of Sumeru, it's a whole different story.

Everything is connected in a way. Just because Sumeru isn't reliant on imports for food doesn't mean food prices are not affected by the lack of other resources. For example, to produce fowl meat, you'll need a few things:

Either machinery (mostly from Fontaine) or workers to slaughter the fowl.

Appropriate packaging to pack the fowl meat.

Transport to carry your produce to marketplaces throughout Sumeru.

In this case, most issues lie with step one. Most farmers in Sumeru had taken to using Fontaine machinery to mass slaughter poultry. It was much cheaper than hiring workers and way more efficient. The only trade-off was that these machines ran on a specific type of oil that only is sold in Fontaine. So, manufacturers would sell the oil alongside it.

But now, Fontaine traders and businesses are gradually pulling away from Sumeru. That means a lesser supply of oil, which means a decrease in the supply of fowl since machines are not able or cost more to run. A shortage means that prices go up. People buy less or cannot afford fowl at all. Farmers make less money, which prevents them from hiring more workers (or results in them letting go of workers if they don't use machinery) to increase the fowl supply. A case of cost-push inflation, similar to other case studies Al Haitham has read up on.

This is just one example out of many. The inflation and unemployment rate are growing. Adding everything up, including the current political climate, Sumeru is becoming less and less attractive to traders and businesses, causing them to pull away, worsening the Sumeru economy. It's a vicious cycle that Al Haitham needs to break.

If Al Haitham had to list all the issues Port Ormos has caused him, he'd be able to write himself all the way to an economic degree. Which he'll be able to sign off, now that he thinks about it. He's the Acting Grand Sage. He'll announce his own name. Present the degree to himself. Shake his own hand.

But anyway, the main point is that if he's able to revitalise Port Ormos, many other issues will resolve themselves. He had finally had a lucky break that Thursday and was free to head to Port Ormos to speak to the trade supervisors. But then, of course, stuff happened, and he wasn't able to do all that.

Which is why he's heading back to Vimara village again today. He specifically worked through the entire night in his cold office, wet clothes clinging uncomfortably on his body just so he could make time today for this. This time, he's going to make sure he speaks to the trade supervisors and settle this once and for all. He's ready to negotiate to hell and back to ensure the port reopens.

No surprises today, he'll make sure of it.

"Oh! You're heading back to Vimara Village?"

Well. Never mind, then.

The rising heat only hits the moment he walks out of the tavern.

Treasures Street is empty tonight because of the heavy rain. Shops have closed early- the only exception being the tavern. But even so, Al Haitham feels too exposed. He doesn't feel cold anymore. The heat blooming in his cheeks and all over him makes sure of that.

Al Haitham quickens his pace. There's still a long walk to the Akademiya. The faster he gets there, the more time he'll have to finish whatever he has to do.

The faster he gets there, the less time he'll have to think about what just happened.

Let's review.

First of all, he fainted. Presumably right in front or around her house- so that's how she found him. Fine. He can't fault himself for that. He had been running on less than three hours of sleep that week. The cherry on top had been that four-hour trek he had to do on top of that. He was exhausted. The human body has its limits.

But then he woke up and bawled his eyes out like a baby. In front of her. A total stranger. She pushed a bowl of the best meal he ever had (and his only meal in two days) into his face, and he cried. He cried so much that he passed out. Again. Until the following evening.

It takes a lot of willpower from Al Haitham to not squat down and cringe in the middle of the street.

Archons, he's pathetic.

His cheeks burn, and he instinctively moves a hand to cover his face. The movement is accompanied by a crumpling sound, which reminds him of the snack he was given before he left the tavern.

Taking cover under Menakeri's Treasure Shop, he removes the neatly bundled wrap from its paper bag. The rain isn't letting up. He couldn't be more drenched, but thankfully, the wrap is still dry- courtesy of the paper bag he took from Lambad's counter.

The wrap is still warm, and he curses when the rainwater on his hand seeps into the napkins. Removing it quickly, he holds the wrap in his hands.

Wait. What's he going to do with the wrap?

He should throw it away. It's a terrible waste of food, but he can't afford to eat and feel sleepy later. He has to finish everything and then some, so he'll be free to head back to Vimara village tomorrow.

She held out the bundle with trembling hands.

The wrap suddenly feels heavy. Looking around, he spots a rubbish bin just a step away outside the shop.

She had left her warm, comfortable spot just to make sure he had something to eat.

He should really get going. Throw it away. And then leave for the Akademiya. But his feet refuse to move.

"They're worried about you, you know?"

Why don't you worry about yourself instead?

"Oh! You're heading back to Vimara Village?"

You weren't expecting to see the Acting Grand Sage again. Much less on the ferry Cyno had arranged to bring you back to Vimara village.

If the Acting Grand Sage was surprised, he hid it well. Slowly turning to face you, he coolly leans against the railings of the small, wooden ferry. But the piercing sound of creaking wood jolts him back up almost immediately.

"Yes." he hastily answers, turning around to check on the railing, pushing it back and forth, then squatting down and repeating the action.

A curt answer. What are you supposed to say to that? You can't even hum in agreement or find an opening to make small talk before you politely excuse yourself to take a seat inside.

The only sound filling the air now is the creaking of wood as he scrutinises the railing. You're not sure what he's checking for- it's just a loose railing, but you admire the dedication nonetheless. A minute passes.

An alternative course of action is to simply walk towards the seating area without saying anything else. But he's blocking the entrance. Taking a step forward, you shift closer to gauge how much space you have to move through it.

Nope. No way to pass through at all. His large build completely obstructs the entrance. There's no way to pass without saying anything, and you're not sure what you can say that isn't awkward.

"Uh, excuse me. I'm just going to pass- yeah, oh- you don't need to stand, just- sorry."

Yeah, say that, and proceed to simmer in uncomfortable silence with him in the seating area for the next hour and a half.

"...You're also heading back to the village?" there's another creak of wood as he shifts it from left to right now.

"Ah! Yes," you reply, eager to stave off the growing awkwardness. "I, uh, live there."

He stiffens at your answer and brushes a hand over his face. You see his shoulders slacken as he sighs.

Did...you say something wrong?

If you did, he doesn't comment on it. Finally standing up, he's turning around and-

"I'm just going to head in first!" you blurt out, taking the opportunity to rush past him into the seating area.

But of course, just as you finally get into the seating area, the ship suddenly rocks, throwing you off balance and onto the hard floor.

Al Haitham's face is on fire. It must be because of the new soap he used this morning. Kaveh had pestered him for money to buy that brand, and he had finally caved. Yes, this is all Kaveh's fault.

No, he is not blushing. Why would he be? He isn't ill or feverish. Neither is he embarrassed.

It's just the soap. A mild allergic reaction, perhaps. But he isn't allergic to anything. Perhaps he should book an appointment at Bimarstan to confirm that. Allergies are dangerous.

Why can't he turn around?

There's a loud, rhythmic pulsing in his ear, which strangely is in phase with the beating of his heart. Is that his heartbeat he's hearing? Why is it so loud? And so fast? Also, why is his heart beating so hard?

He knows the answer. He just doesn't want to admit it.

Al Haitham is not embarrassed. Why should he be? It matters not what she thinks of him. She isn't causing him any trouble. She isn't someone he needs to work with. If anything, she is just another person now. She doesn't affect him or his life. To think about her is meaningless. It serves no purpose.

He doesn't care about her. She means nothing. She's just another stranger.

Oh, so this is about her, Kaveh's voice rings in his head. You're too embarrassed to face her!

Great. Now imaginary Kaveh is here. But, thankfully, logic is Kaveh's worst enemy.

And Al Haitham has a lot of logic.

Ok then, Kaveh, Al Haitham shifts the railing with more vigour. Let's say I am embarrassed.

You are!

Then what would I be embarrassed about?

Well, about the whole fainting incident! You made a fool of yourself right in front of a total stranger!

So? I'm only a human being. My body has limits that I'm not ashamed of.

You know that's not what I'm talking about.

Oh? Whatever do you mean?

About the whole crying and-

Nope. Al Haitham immediately cuts his internal debate with imaginary Kaveh short. He is not going to think about that now. But of course, you can never stop racing thoughts. Particularly ones provided by imaginary Kaveh.

Don't wanna think about it?

I've already gone through that with myself yesterday.

And what did you find out? That you-

That it was simply tears of relief, Al Haitham lies. In regards to getting good food and rest. A natural human response.

Ha! Yeah right-

Imaginary Kaveh is interrupted once again by the sound of shifting behind Al Haitham. It must be her. Waiting for him to say something back.

Well? Turn around and talk to her!

Why should I?

Unbelievable! Not even going to thank her for helping you?

He knows he should. He wants to. But his voice isn't working. Plus, he can't even turn to face her.

I wonder why.

It's because I'm inspecting the railing. Boats in Sumeru must pass the Sumeru Maritime Port Authorities' safety check, and one of the basic-

It's just a loose railing, and you know it! You're fiddling with it as an excuse to not-

More shifting behind him. What is she trying to do? A quick glance to his left tells him the answer.

Hey, you idiot fungus. You're blocking the entrance to the seating area!

Shit, Kaveh is right. Imaginary Kaveh, that is.

Stand up and move!

Wait. But wouldn't it be weird to just stand up and move? Without saying anything else? That would imply that Al Haitham was paying attention to her but not speaking back. Wouldn't that be strange? Rude, even?

Oh, worrying about weirding her out? And since when have you ever cared about niceties?

Shit, imaginary Kaveh is right. Again. This isn't like him. At all.

Ugh! If you're not going to move, at least say something! You're making her feel uncomfortable!

Say what?! Why don't you suggest something helpful for once?

I don't know? It's your conversation! Not mine! Just ask something! Anything! Before this whole situation becomes too awkward beyond repair!

In a haste, much to imaginary Kaveh and Al Haitham's absolute horror, Al Haitham's mouth decides to go off on its own and ask the most stupid, brain-dead question.

"...You're also heading back to the village?"

Oh, Archons.

Al Haitham shifts the railing from left to right. Maybe if he does that enough, by some scientific principle that he has not come across yet, it'll be like a lever, and time would rewind and-

When I said to ask anything, I meant something like "Slept well last night?" or "Were the toiletries I bought for you sufficient?" not whatever you just asked.

"Ah! Yes," she replies. "I, uh, live there."

Great. Now she thinks you're an idiot, you idiot.

What kind of question is that? The answer is obvious. So obvious, that Al Haitham feels the need to redeem himself. A prickling sensation on his face spreads from his cheeks all the way up to the tips of his ears, and Al Haitham uses a hand to try to rub it away.

Archons, even asking what her name is would have been a better question than that!

Enough yapping! How can I fix this?

Al Haitham can't believe he's asking Kaveh, even if in imaginary form, for help. But desperate times call for desperate measures. And Kaveh-like problems require Kaveh-like solutions.

Well, start off by actually turning around to talk to her! Even imaginary Kaveh is surprised by his request for advice. Ask her what her name is! That sounds like a good way to kick-start a less awkward conversation. And save this whole interaction.

But I don't want a conversation. I-

Do you want her to feel even more uncomfortable than she probably already is?

With a deep sigh, Al Haitham tries to compose himself. Willing away the heat in his face, he stands back up. His knees ache a little, but he ignores the pain as he turns to face her but-

"I'm just going to head in first!"

And there she goes, bolting towards the now unobstructed entrance, leaving Al Haitham alone on the deck, momentarily stunned by her sudden departure.

She's barely two steps into the seating area when the ship rocks. Al Haitham catches his balance with practised elegance, but unfortunately, the same could not be said for her.

With a loud thud, she crashes into the ground as the boat begins to turn.

"Are you alright?" all earlier thoughts disappear from Al Haitham's mind as worry fills the gaps. Rushing over, he kneels at her side, watching her as she turns around with a hiss.

"It's fine." she winces, turning over before extending both legs.

"Your left ankle is starting to swell," Al Haitham mutters, comparing the size of her ankles through the straps of her sandals. "A sprained ankle."

"Well," She shifts to sit upwards. Leaning over, she takes a closer look at her ankle. "It doesn't look as bad as it feels."

"It may soon if we don't take care of it," Al Haitham shifts closer to her ankle. "May I?"

When she nods, he gently removes her footwear. Looking around the seating area, he frowns as he realises the absence of a first aid kit. That means no cold compresses or bandages.

"We'll have to elevate it," Al Haitham mutters. "Let's move closer to the benches."

"Ah, ok," she kicks her right leg inwards she pushes her weight onto it as she tries to stand. "Well-"

The boat wobbles, and she nearly falls again. , Al Haitham catches hold of her arm, steadying her.

"That isn't going to work," Al Haitham states before she could thank him. "Sit back down."

She does so, giving him a questioning look. Gently moving her legs so that her knees are outstretched and bent, he hooks an arm under her knee and uses the other to support her back as he stands.

"Woah!" her arms begin to flail.

"Calm down," Al Haitham moves his face away from a hand that nearly hits him. "Just- put that arm here."

"Where?"

"Shoulder," he huffs as he bounces her to secure his hold around her. "Hold on."

The boat rocks, but the Acting Grand Sage doesn't seem worried about falling. In fact, he walks on as if he's on flat ground. All while carrying you.

He gently places you down on the floor next to the nearest metal bench before kneeling next to you again.

"I'm just going to put your leg up here," he assists your ankle up on the bench. "Leave your ankle like this."

"Thank you," you murmur. "I'm sorry for the trouble."

He sighs, heading back towards the entrance to retrieve your sandals. You can't look at him as he walks back to you.

This is so embarrassing.

It was bad enough that things were already so awkward. Oh, Archons. You've already made a faux pas earlier at the deck. Now with this? He must be furious.

Then, in a move that proceeded to stun you- and honestly scare you a little he sits down.

On the floor.

All the benches around, and he chooses to sit on the floor with you.

"No need to thank me." the Acting Grand Sage releases another sigh as he relaxes his shoulders, leaning on the side of the bench beside yours.

He then pulls out a book from somewhere behind his cape and begins to read.

"Would you…prefer to sit on the bench? I'm sure it's much more comfortable there."

"It's a metal bench. It'll feel just as hard as the floor."

Again, another curt response.

Biting your lip in shame, you feel a heat roll up your cheek.

"Acting Grand Sage, I just want to apologise for-"

"Al Haitham."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"My name," he shuts his book, turning his head to face you now. "It's less of a mouthful compared to that. And you are?"

Name. Yes. You can give that.

You tell him your name, trying your hardest to keep your voice as stable as possible. You really don't want to embarrass yourself further.

He repeats your name with an almost contemplative tone. He said it softly, compared to the surrounding noises of the ship. But it's the only sound that fills your ears.

"You have nothing to apologise for," the Acting Grand Sage- no, Al Haitham says. With yet another sigh, he continues. "It's actually me who has to apologise."

"What do you mean?" you frown. You don't recall him doing anything wrong.

"I," he pauses, placing his book aside as his hand rubs against the back of his neck. "I'm sorry if I've made you feel uncomfortable."

He shifts slightly, fidgeting with the ends of his cape.

"I also have to apologise for getting you into this mess," he goes on. "And for not thanking you for helping me back then."

"There's no need to thank me for that!" you answer. "And there's no need to apologise as well. Everyone has been kind to me. This was all a misunderstanding."

And just like that, the awkwardness is gone. Instead, a soothing silence envelopes the space between the two of you. You finally get the courage to glance at him, and now that you're relaxed, you notice something a little strange about his attire.

He isn't wearing anything different than yesterday. But the cape-

His cape!

"I passed your cape to Cyno when I got to the hostel," you say, voice laced with worry. "Did you get it?"

That cape looked expensive. But more importantly, you don't think you'd be able to show your face to anyone ever again if you lost the Acting Grand Sage's cape.

"I did," you let out a sigh of relief. "Cyno passed it to me yesterday."

"Did you work through the night?" you ask.

"Yes. I managed to finish everything by dawn, so I went back home to rest before heading out again."

"At dawn? So you did work through the night then!" you huff. "You have to take care of yourself! If not, you'll pass out again."

"I was well rested after I fell asleep at your place."

"You did not fall asleep. You passed out!"

"Well, it was rest either way."

"Then, did you at least eat the wrap we gave you?"

He stills. Suddenly, the chatty vibe between the two of you had disappeared.

"I," he breaks the stillness. "I ate a little bit of it. On the way back to the Akademiya."

He looks a little guilty, but you let it go.

"I'll take your word for it."

Another silence fills the air. You wiggle the toes on your left foot. It aches, but not as much as before, thankfully. But it'll still be a pain to deal with on the walk back home.

"Did you rest well last night?" he asks, breaking the silence again.

"I did," you recall, thinking about that room you were given. "Do all Akademiya students live in rooms like that? Everything was provided!"

You had thought a student hostel would have only the bare essentials, like a bed, wardrobe and a desk. But in the room you were led to, everything you could have possibly needed was there. Soaps, room slippers, sanitary pads and tampons, and even snacks!

"…Yes," he stretches his neck. "I'm glad you got a good night's rest."

"You should get one too, you know?" you say, turning to face him. "Your friends are worried about you."

And they really are. To the rest of Sumeru, he may just be a temporary authority figure. But to Kaveh, he's his housemate and closest friend. And to Cyno, he's his rival and fellow comrade.

"I know they are," he shares. "But we all have jobs to do."

He looks up, out of the window, far out into the blue sky. It's a sunny day today.

"We should be back at the village in about an hour's time."

"Well, why don't you go get some rest then? I'll wake you when we arrive."

"Thank you." He gives your ankle one last look, making sure nothing got worse. Leaning his head back onto the side of the metal bench, he closes his eyes.

You pray to the Dendro Archon to make his dreams sweet as you watch sleep take him away.

"Did you get it?"

"I think so?"

"Oh, it's blurry! Let me try!"

"Kaveh, wait! Don't lean on that or-"

For an architect, Kaveh is surprisingly terrible at guessing the relative structural integrity of objects. This is why the boxes Kaveh thought were stable (and then proceeded to lean on) come falling down, much to Cyno's dismay.

Naturally, the shopkeeper was furious about Kaveh destroying a whole batch of new wares. Kaveh had racked up quite the bill (which Cyno feels will end up being paid for by Al Haitham), but-

"But it's all worth it. Look!" he gloats, showing Cyno the printed picture.

"Well, would you look at that? Told you this was a good idea!" Kaveh continues.

Well, Archons be damned.

Cyno isn't one who would usually follow Kaveh's pranks or ploys. But if it's going to keep producing results like this, he may consider calling Tighnari to join in on the fun.

"Told you I would be able to get them on the same boat," Cyno smirks, handing the photo back to Kaveh for safekeeping. "What now?"

"Now, we wait," Kaveh takes one last look at the photo, admiring their handiwork before shutting it together with the kamera inside his briefcase. "And when he comes back, oh, it will be fun."

Little did these two know what they have started.

Join the Taglist!

#al haitam x reader #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham genshin impact #alhaitham #al haitham #genshin x reader #genshin impact #hereandnow

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jupiter235 · 7 months

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I've been debating the best way to go about doing something like what I'm about to do here without giving away too much information about my identity, and I think I've come up with something. So here it goes:

Content warning: mentions of animal death

So a situation has developed at the animal shelter I started working at around a month ago now. A week ago as of today (October 13, 2023) a litter of kittens was brought in to the shelter. I work primarily in cats now, so I myself have handled these particular kittens, as well as a few of my coworkers. And they're very young kittens, too. Like, were probably too young to be separated from their mother, but as far as I know, their mother was nowhere to be found, so she wasn't brought in with them.

We only just discovered yesterday morning that those kittens came in with a virus called panleukopenia.

Those of you who either work in the veternary field or are cat parents likely know what this is already. I myself had never heard of it until yesterday--I've never owned a cat myself. But for those of you who don't know, the way it was explained to me is that it's the cat version of parvo (a virus dangerous to dogs)--a deadly virus that is contagious and can kill an animal that hasn't been vaccinated against it.

We didn't discover it until one of my coworkers, who was working in the room for newly dropped-off cats and went to clean their kennel, discovered one of the kittens dead and another one of their siblings sick. Our supervisor tested them, and they tested positive for panleuk. They would have had this illnes from the time they arrived at our shelter, and several of us have handled these kittens, so at this point we've already exposed all of the cats in the facility to this. Meaning the entire cat section of the shelter is now under quarantine until we can make sure all the other cats are clear.

The reason I'm posting about all of this? To put out a call for help. But in order to do this without compromising my identity--no one in real life knows I have a Tumblr, and I'd prefer to keep it that way--this is how I'm asking:

If you follow me but we aren't mutuals, and if you can--please don't feel bad if you can't do it for any reason--donate to your own local animal shelters. Food, money, cleaning supplies, etc. Please donate so they can keep their animals healthy and help them find a home.

If we're mutuals and you want to help out the shelter I work at, IM me for a link to their donation page. Any help would of course be appreciated.

#cw: mentions of animal death

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lunanight2012 · 3 years

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More incorrect dabihawks quotes to distract me from my breathing issue:

Dabi: Hawks! My face is on fire!

Hawks: Dabi! Are you ok?!

Dabi: Oh yes, I'm fine. I just said that to make sure you'd come in here quickly.

Hawks: But your face is on fire.

Dabi: Yes. It's much faster than shaving.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dabi: *Accidentally hits Hawks in the face*

Dabi: *Trying to decide between saying 'I’m fucking sorry' and 'Are you okay'*

Dabi: ARE YOU FUCKING SORRY?!

Hawks: What’s wrong with you?!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dabi: This is bothering me.

Hawks: Well, you are digging up a corpse.

Dabi: No, not that. That's, uh, pretty par for the course, actually

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Dabi, addressing the squad: And if you have any suggestions feel free to put them in the suggestion box.

Hawks: But – that’s just a trash can.

Dabi: It sure is!

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Dabi: Hawks was banned from the chicken shack, so we had to go out of town to get some.

Hawks: Well, they shouldn’t say “all you can eat” if they don’t mean it.

Dabi: Hawks, you ate a chair.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dabi: Can you keep a secret?

Hawks: Do you know anything about my life?

Dabi: No I do not. Good point.

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Dabi: You often use humor to deflect trauma

Hawks: Thank you

Dabi: I didn't say that was a good thing

Hawks: What I'm hearing is, you think I'm funny

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Dabi: Name a more iconic duo than my crippling fear of abandonment and my anxiety. I'll wait.

Hawks: You and me!!!

Dabi, tearing up: Okay.

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Dabi: Lol heads up if you try to make a candle with food coloring, the food coloring will just sink to the bottom of the glass, and when the flame eventually reaches the bottom all the food coloring will catch fire and become one giant tall flame that you cannot possibly blow out and the glass will start to crack and then you'll throw your tea on it in a panic and then the extremely hot food coloring will boil and sizzle horribly and then the glass will shatter. Please take my word on this lmfao

Hawks: What did you do op?

Dabi: A MISTAKE

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Dabi: Hey, you want some leftovers?

Hawks: What's that?

Dabi: You've never had leftovers???

Hawks: No, because I'm not a quitter.

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Dabi, tending to Hawks's wounds: How would you rate your pain?

Hawks: Zero stars. Would NOT recommend.

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Dabi: In light of what you did for me, you can hug me for four to five seconds.

Hawks: FORTY FIVE SECONDS?!?

Dabi: No! Four to five seconds!

Hawks: Too late!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dabi: You kill people for money?!

Hawks: I can explain!

Dabi: And all this time I’ve been doing it for free like a chump!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dabi: Stop buying plastic skeletons for Halloween! It's terrible for the environment!

Hawks: Yeah! Locally sourced, all natural skeletons are much more environmentally friendly!

Thats all for now.... I'll probably be doing this a lot until i either go back to work or get a new job, or end up in the hospital

If you wanna donate my kofi & paypal are in my linktree here

#dabihawks #dabi #hawks #personal #incorrect quotes #bnha dabi #mha dabi #bnha hawks #mha hawks

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stillness-in-green · 3 years

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The MLA(/PLF) Headcanon Post (1/2)

In response to this nice ask about whether I have any headcanon or thoughts about the current members of the MLA/PLF, I spent two weeks blithering 16.5K words of exactly that into a Word file, because when it comes to underappreciated characters I love, I do not understand restraint. This post and its follow-up will cover all ranked ex-MLA members of the PLF, as well as Original Flavor Destro and Curious, since I wasn't going to leave them out of a project like this even if they aren't "current."

The ask only mentioned having previously read The Lore Post, the last exercise in ridiculousness that I wrote at the tail end of MLA Week, so I wrote this to summarize everything that doesn't appear there—which is to say that a lot of the material in these two posts will look familiar to anyone who's read my fanfic about the MLA cast. There’s still plenty of new material to go around too, though!

So, I don't have much in the vein of askblog-style headcanons where I can randomly tell you stray trivia about a character’s favorite foods or their love languages or what have you; that stuff either comes up when I'm writing fanfic or it doesn't. That said, below, please find a mix of thoughts I keep in mind when writing characters, facts that have only turned up in my fanfic/notes so far and not the Lore Post meta, and a selection of lightning round headcanon provided by cross-referencing a random number generator with some old questionnaires I keep around for OCs and tabletop characters.

In this post: Destro, Re-Destro and his advisors, and Geten.

Destro—

General Thoughts The whole "revolutionary leader" thing came very naturally to him. He was committed, charismatic, very willing to risk his life and safety for the cause, and he cared about his people. All that said, he absolutely had a pompous, prideful streak, especially where it came to his justification for terrorism. You only have to read his own words to see that. Still, he was in large part reacting to the world he lived in, one of greater violence and danger than the current day.

I like to think that—because he was genuine in wanting freedom for all—he would not approve of what became of his Army. He'd be able to see how they got there, and he would probably have made much the same choices if he'd been there with them, but while he would have agreed that his role should be remembered—that's just Due Credit—he would never have wanted to become the nigh-on religious figure his followers turned him into. Continuing to fight the good fight for his ideals is one thing, but secret salutes and isolated villages and being raised from infancy to know your life has only as much worth as it can contribute to Liberation… Well, it's just not what he would have wanted for his people, much less his descendants.

Family Situation Chikara was only around 7 when his mother was killed, the event that would shape the rest of his life. He wasn't hiding in the closet from the mob, either; he was kicking and punching and biting, his motivation to save her overflowing—but he was still only 7, and eventually overwhelmed. His own life might well have ended there with hers, but for a group of neighborhood vigilante types (at least one of whom probably went on to a career as a hero, after legalization).

He went most of his adolescence without getting involved with anything more sinister than student newspapers, founding a secret meta-rights "club," and attending the odd larger protest, but when the government started talking about passing laws restricting the use of meta-abilities, he started getting very radical very quickly, and when some absolute snake started to use his martyred mother's words to bang the drum for banning quirk use outside the home outright, he went off the deep end.

Lightning Round (Randomly Selected Headcanons)

Favorite book genre? Memoirs and biographies—he wouldn't have written his own if he didn't appreciate their value. The intimacy of the personal juxtaposed against the broad scope of history appeals to both his regard for individuality and his revolutionary mindset.

Most prized possession? Thoughts on material possessions in general? He doesn’t generally prize material possessions—in fact, he’s something of a skinflint. His most prized possession is an old pair of gloves that belonged to his mother, which he'd been wearing at the time of her murder. He didn't come from money to begin with, but his mother’s story made enough of a splash that his financial situation was improved by well-meaning sorts sending along donations and contributions and the like, as well as government officials knowing they needed to be sure that he wound up somewhere at least semi-reasonable lest they court further outrage by mishandling the son of a martyred woman. The money all went towards school and living expenses, though, leaving him quite experienced at balancing a budget, which would come in handy for that whole ‘leading a violent uprising against the state’ thing later on.

Academic Background: Got all the way through college! Was involved in student groups as far back as middle school, and only got moreso the further in school he got. Majored in Human Development; he was intending to go into the public health and policy sphere before the appropriation of his mother's language pissed him off so much he got into terrorism instead.

THE MODERN MLA

Re-Destro—

General Thoughts A huge amount of the way I write him is influenced by one single thing—his characterization as described in the second data book. His personality is summed up there as "sokoshirenai yami"—bottomless darkness, or, as a friend translated it for me, "unfathomable gloominess." That really, really stuck with me, because on the one hand, it's so opposed to virtually all of what we see of him on the page, where he's being cheerful or scornful or sycophantic; the closest he ever gets are his brief tears for Miyashita, Curious, and his other followers.

On the other hand, it makes so much sense that the man we see—the man who talks about the heavy burdens of his legacy, who was handed that legacy when he couldn't possibly have been any older than 6 or so, who willingly straps on a self-designed torture device to wring out more power, who all but worships the ground Shigaraki walks on even though Shigaraki is the reason Re-Destro no longer has legs to walk that same ground with—should be "unfathomably gloomy." Of course he's gloomy! He was never allowed to be his own person! He has never in his life known true freedom, only existed as a vessel to bring that freedom to others! And he can't really even talk to his closest friends about it, because his closest friends are still his followers, and he wouldn't want to weigh them down!

With that context, it makes all the sense in the world that he'd be so devoted to the man who relieved him of that burden.

Family Situation He loved his mother Yukie a great deal, despite knowing from early on that he was carrying the weight of the title because she believed she couldn’t. (Perhaps growing up hearing about the martyrdom of Destro’s mother left him wanting to ensure the happiness of his own, for her happiness was very rare.) He was 10 when she was killed in a Villain attack; she’d been on a daytrip over to a neighboring city to visit some of her erstwhile school friends. The requisite mourning period was 49 days, and as the only surviving family member, quite a lot fell to him even before considerations of his role as Re-Destro. it was perceived as better—for both the Army’s morale and for his own stability—for him to be involved with as much of the work of transition as possible, but obviously he couldn’t do it completely alone, nor should he. Thus, for two months after Yukie’s death, the previous generation's Sanctum[i] stayed with him in his family home. Afterward, he moved in with Anchor (one of his grandfather's advisors), where he would spend the rest of his young adulthood until moving away for college.

Claustrophobia The name of that literal-iron-maiden deathtrap he brings to bear against Shigaraki is no coincidence: Rikiya developed claustrophobia over the course of a stint of abusive training when he was thirteen. He generally has a pretty good handle on disguising it, thanks to a combination of people being unwilling to ask him questions they don’t actually want the answers to and the fact that he had to learn how to operate through it in order to complete the training at all. He has never told anyone, largely because he’s never been able to recognize that it was abuse, and so his abuser remains a figure of some influence.

Education He was largely taught by private tutors, in his home and in theirs, rather than attending school, but I think he probably wasn't completely home-schooled. Particularly once he'd decided that he did want to attend university—and not just some little local technical program, but a major school in a proper city—he probably attended classes a few times a week at his local high school just to get a feel for being around other people his own age. He'd been friends with Koku for several years by that point, otherwise he probably would have been pretty hopeless, but he was still a pretty odd duck by the time he got to university.

This, incidentally, is why he never pushed Geten too hard about school—his own experience of it was so weird and piecemeal that he mostly thinks of school as relevant only for the education it provides, and less so the crash course in social dynamics. Since Geten doesn't care about getting an education (nor, indeed, about learning how not to be a rude little troll), and has a strong enough quirk that he'll never lack for a position in the Army even without a formal education, Rikiya is perfectly happy to let Geten have his way and just be minimally learnèd.

Stress His powers operate by infusing his body with the characteristic black matter of his manifested stress; he can increase his size with this (his so-called Liberated Form isn't just armored up; he becomes physically taller and bulkier), as well as throw handfuls of the materialized power. A side effect of this is that his stress can also infuse itself into his bodily fluids. The stress matter is a highly dense particulate, so if Rikiya is not in proper control of himself, his proverbial blood, sweat and tears can be literally heavy with the weight of his power.

The Value of Life He cares very much about the lives of his followers, but those genuine feelings are filtered through both the mental compartmentalization required by an emotion-based quirk, and an upbringing that taught him to care about his underlings in the same way one would rare goods. Valuable goods, certainly, goods worth being proud of, goods to be maintained with care, but still, ultimately, things that can be sold or traded or bartered off as necessary to further one's goals. Even his own life, while "objectively" the most valuable of them all, isn't an exception to that policy—the Great Cause is more important than any individual life, up to and including his own.

On a Personal Note He’s something of an obvious weirdo to outsiders—his enthusiasm comes off as strident, his smiles overly polished—but despite that, he's bizarrely hard to dislike once they start spending real time with him. He's not anywhere near as prideful about himself as he is the legacy of the MLA, for a start; he's actually pretty self-deprecating when he's not performing the whole Heir of Destro's Great Bloodline routine at people. He's also happy to go along with other people sharing their hobbies (because he doesn't have any of his own). The more you get to know him, the more obvious it becomes that he's a total basket case, but “total basket case” is still an improvement over “self-absorbed 1%-er CEO” that people like Spinner come in expecting.

What Are Boundaries? He has very little understanding of how to enforce boundaries around his private life, or, indeed, of why such boundaries might ever be necessary. Oh, he can do the double life thing, keep the CEO of Detnerat separate from the Grand Commander of the Metahuman Liberation Army, but when it comes to the MLA itself, he's so groomed to devote himself to the cause that he doesn't really distinguish between the responsibilities of Re-Destro and the needs of Yotsubashi Rikiya. Rather than being the egomaniac you might expect of a man with the absolute power over others he has, he instead struggles to assert himself as his own person at all.

Issues with boundaries are not uncommon with the MLA—they're all raised to see themselves as warriors to advance the cause before they are, like, “human beings”—but Rikiya’s are particularly exacerbated because he was raised by adults who were getting pretty paranoid about his bloodline's tendency to die young, and thus were always checking in on how he was doing, dictating his schedule, weighing in on his plans, and so on. He just wasn’t raised with reasonable expectations for privacy. Even as an adult, he'll give his apartment door code to pretty much anyone in the MLA who has even a semi-plausible reason to want it—certainly quite a few of the elders know it! And it isn’t only the elders, either; Rikiya's phone and several of his accessories carry tracking chips courtesy of Skeptic, which Rikiya knows about and doesn't think is at all untoward.

While his experience dating Koku definitely taught him some hard lessons about how much he could allow himself to ask of people who would obey him without question (they broke up over Rikiya’s realization that Koku would never deny him anything, thanks to a cracked rib Koku didn’t see fit to tell Rikiya about until Rikiya hugged him a little too hard), he never learned how to value his own autonomy in turn. Oh, he's the Grand Commander, and everyone around him has been raised to venerate his bloodline, so most of them would never even think about trying to take advantage of him as such, but it's absolutely the case that people who are bold or familiar enough to try can basically run right over him with minimal efforts made at obscuring the fact. His life is full of people who do and have done exactly that, some to a net positive effect, and some—well. See again the entry about his claustrophobia.

The abjectly terrible state of his sense of self-worth is also the reason the Claustro exists. While he was relatively capable of trying to work around his phobia when he was younger, the older he got, the more it started to feel like leaving doors cracked behind him or only working in offices with big spacious floor plans and oversized windows was, in some way, Letting Down The Cause by allowing his fear to control him, rather than embracing it so he could properly stockpile it for later use. A dinnertime chat with Curious about turning one’s trauma into a weapon for the good of others catalyzed this, leading to the development of the “burden-enhancing steel pressure mechanism,” Claustro.

(It also means the clone of him made by Twice to handle Detnerat after Deika is bizarrely okay with its circumstances, which I will almost certainly write more about one of these days, but I’m still kind of reeling from that reveal, so more on that another time.)

Lightning Round

Religion? He doesn't identify as being of a religious faith, but he was brought up in the same peaceful marriage of Shinto and Buddhism that the majority of Japanese people are, and like many, he adheres to a number of traditional practices more out of habit than devout faith. There are two celebrations that demand significant emotional investment from him. First comes the New Year's celebrations, important because the MLA prides itself on looking to a brighter, freer future, and it's a period when he can let himself think that maybe he'll be just that little bit closer to Liberation by the end of the year than he was at the start. Second is Obon, a summer festival for honoring one's departed ancestors. Since his authority and his life's work derive entirely from his bloodline, he's obligated to care about this one, though in practice, he tends to shy away from thinking much about Destro (who he has very twisted-up feelings about indeed) in favor of less emotionally fraught waters.

What did he dream of being or doing as a child? Did that dream come true? He never really had a significant period where he thought about being e.g. an astronaut or a doctor or a hero; in fact, it came as something of a surprise to him the first time Koku asked him what he was planning to do when he grew up. He always just had the nebulous expectation of, "Be the Grand Commander," and the elders were happy to leave it at that until he brought it up on his own.[ii]

How does he behave around children? He likes kids! He’s wistful about the freedom enjoyed by happy children while also being sympathetic to ones that seem overly burdened. He’s not the most natural person in the world with them, but most of them can tell that the awkwardness comes from a well-intentioned place, and will treat him as a funny-looking man who’ll let them bother him at length without getting mean. It turns out he’s actually pretty good with them, then, if only by virtue of being easily bullied. (This, notably, goes for non-MLA-affiliated children. Everything’s much more formal within the cult, though it didn’t Geten long to suss out the “easily-bullied” part, either.)

Trumpet—

General Thoughts The largest factor in how I write Koku is, of course, the headcanon that he and Rikiya are ex-lovers, and neither of them is 100% over it even all these years later. Beyond that, though, Koku is the most temperate of the group, the one with the most easy charisma (MLA members are more swayed by Re-Destro, but Koku does better with outsiders who aren't predisposed to hanging on Rikiya's every word). He strives to come off as The Sensible One, and given the extremes the rest of the inner circle are capable of, it's not hard for him to maintain that title. He's as messed up as any of them, though, second only to Rikiya in levels of childhood grooming. He thinks of himself as a practical man, but he is deeply indoctrinated, the boundaries of his expectations very much defined by his upbringing, so he never really sees it coming when he gets clobbered by something from out of left field.

Family Situation: Koku has the largest family of the identified members. Aside from his grandfather (called Old Man Hanabata, the founder of the Hearts & Minds Party, and passed away by the canon era), Koku has cousins, nieces, nephews and more, courtesy of his uncle, his older sister and her husband, and other extended family.

He’s also the member most accustomed to wealth, power and influence. He's from a rural area, certainly, but being in a family of hereditary politicians (and with that family not suffering a string of untimely deaths and disappearances like Rikiya's did), he was raised from the start with ready access to money and nice things. Still, for all his family's sway in a major branch of the MLA's operations, they're not First Families, and thus don't have any elders in their ranks, making them still somewhat subordinate to said elders when it comes to orders about the Great Cause. (He’s working on it.)

Meeting Re-Destro Koku and Rikiya met at 12 and 10 respectively, when Koku tagged along with Old Man Hanabata for a meeting RD was likewise accompanying Anchor for. It had been the better part of a year since Rikiya's mother passed away, but he was still strikingly melancholy for a boy that age, which—along with all the weight given to the importance of the meeting—left quite an impression on Koku. Koku thus became Rikiya's first real friend in his own age group, a friendship heartily encouraged by everyone around them. Koku was well-behaved, intelligent, a little older but not too much so, and set to become influential without a danger of becoming too influential; he was seen as a good choice for a friend.[iii]

The Break-Up Painful as it was at the time, there was a silver lining to his and RD's post-college break-up: it got Koku out of the elders' pocket. He’s been groomed for one thing or another all his life, but after he became friends with Rikiya, he was always getting leaned on to report back to the First Families about how Re-Destro was doing, and to try to influence him towards actions the First Families approved of. In a very real sense, Koku was part of the apparatus keeping Rikiya from any real freedom. Their break-up and subsequent estrangement meant that the elders had far less to breathe down Koku's neck about, and by the time they reconciled, Trumpet had gotten his feet under him, as had Re-Destro, and they were both better able to fend off such background meddling.

This doesn't mean Trumpet's not still carrying a torch, however. He thought he was handling his long-banked feelings pretty well—being Professional, being the advisor Re-Destro needed and as much a friend as Rikiya would allow—right up until Rikiya scared the life out of him by nearly dying in Deika. He's all but glued himself to Rikiya since, as much as he can get away with given their respective responsibilities.

As an Advisor Other than leading the HMP, he does some work with internal politics and reputation. It's not, strictly speaking, his actual job as advisor—Re-Destro or the elders would probably be sought for more formal or critical mediations—but he and the people who report directly to him do enough travelling around to see constituents that they're often in a position to field those tensions before they get big enough to require attention from higher up. Koku's happy to do so, in fact—not because he just loves handling petty arguments about resources, but because the HMP is a faction of the MLA in and of itself, and mediating is a boost to that faction's standing and autonomy. (Also, it's that much less on Rikiya's ever-overburdened plate.)

Lightning Round

What would he do if he needed to make dinner but the kitchen was busy?Ahahahahaha, “make dinner but the kitchen was busy,” please. Any time there could feasibly be someone else occupying a kitchen he has any business being in himself, it would be a housekeeper, and s/he would be making food for him/his family. It’s not as though Trumpet has never cooked—he did live alone for some years after school—but outside of a scant few years in university, there’s never really been a time that kitchen use overlap would have been a problem for him.

Favorite indulgence and feelings surrounding indulging. Probably gourmet cuisine, especially imported stuff. He’s had tailored clothes all his life; they’re just part of the job. Expensive alcohol also doesn’t wow him; it wouldn’t be strange to find some sake maker whose family has been doing it for sixteen generations in the village he grew up in. It’s a lot harder to cultivate a true gourmand’s palate out in the sticks, though, no matter how rich your family is. Living in actual civilization affords a great deal more variety—and anyway, nice dinners are one of the few things he can reliably tempt Rikiya into accepting. As to his feelings about indulging in general, he’s broadly For It. He works very hard, he seldom gets real time off, and it doesn’t help the Great Cause for him to deny himself nice things, unlike some people. (He’s maybe a bit bitter.)

Does he like to be the center of attention all of the time? Not especially. Oh, he’s very good at it, certainly, and he doesn’t dislike it, but being the center of attention is practically always going to be tied up in The Great Work, so he desperately needs to get out of the spotlight from time to time, if only to be able to turn off the persona.

Curious—

General Thoughts There are two main factors in how I write Chitose: her practicality and her rapaciousness. I write her as having an appreciation for good moral character in other people, especially when it makes a good story, but not considering herself particularly bound by conventional morality: her moral compass is Liberation, and she follows it unswervingly. I also write her as predatory, lusty about a lot of things, often to the point of overstepping. It doesn't hurt anyone that she likes hearty foods and strong alcohol, but she also doesn't have much regard for peoples' boundaries, and even less so when she thinks they have something to offer the Great Cause.

While that trait isn't without its benefits, it can get pretty ugly, too, as we see in how she treats, and talks to, Toga. Even with Rikiya, the only person she thinks of as 'above' her in any meaningful sense, she's not at all above manipulation. She's respectful of him, but knows him too well to always take him at his word. He plainly can't always see what's best for him, but what's best for him is best for Liberation, and therefore, as a Liberation warrior, it's her responsibility to sometimes make decisions for him. He'll appreciate it in the long run—he always does. (Skeptic and Geten have similar views—Rikiya makes it easy.)

Family Situation She probably has the best actual relationship with her family of the group—her mothers are removed enough from the heart of MLA politics that her relationship with Rikiya doesn't color her family life the way Koku's does his, and she's much more sociable than Skeptic or Geten. She doesn't get home much—just the major holidays, work permitting—but she's in frequent enough communication for a grown woman, and chats with her younger sister more often than that.

Meeting Re-Destro She met Rikiya properly when they were 21 and 27 respectively. They were living in the same city at the time (him running Detnerat, her in university), so of course she'd seen him at the odd MLA event he turned up at, but when she landed an internship in her junior year, she cheekily turned up one day in her reporter capacity to interview him as “a local rising star of industry.” It was the first chance they'd had to talk one-on-one, and would not be the last, as she frankly elbowed her way into his life and gradually sussed out that here was a man with Problems. He and Koku were still in a distant patch at the time; she is largely responsible for getting them back on friendly terms as a way of showing her Pure Intentions.

The fact that her Pure Intentions both land her a square position as one of RD's advisors herself and get Rikiya to a better place emotionally is calculated, but not, therefore, untrue. Ironically, while she was concerned about looking like a gold-digger, the MLA elders were probably thrilled and relieved to hear rumors that Rikiya was getting romantically involved again. And with a lovely young MLA woman! They wouldn't even need to worry about surrogacy arrangements! (Not having grown up around the Yotsubashis, Chitose is unaware of exactly how pointed an interest the elders take in the matter of securing that bloodline.)

Feelings Today She loves Rikiya dearly, and prizes his regard more highly than anything in her life, but has not devoted much thought to the idea of being in love with him. She's married to her work, as they say, but she's also keenly aware that Rikiya would, for a great many reasons, be a lot of work to be in love with. She's decided it's generally better for his mental well-being, and therefore also better for the Great Cause (she’s much more capable of reading that relationship reciprocally than Rikiya is), to make sure he's eating at least one good meal a week and getting some proper socialization in outside of MLA meet-and-greets.

As an Advisor She handles external politics and reputation--it's her job to prime Japan culturally for the Liberation agenda in ways more wide-reaching than Trumpet (he's head of a political party, and that's not nothing, but that party is still a small minority on the floor of the Diet). She pulls attention to stories that benefit the MLA, and diverts attention from stories that don't. This is far broader than just publishing Destro's memoir; it also means poking holes in the broader Hero Society narrative. She does this by providing as broad a platform possible for stories about the tragedies of excessive regulation, the evils of quirk-related bias, the abuses of power heroes are capable of, and so on.

Lightning Round

Does she remember names or faces easier? She’s quite good with both, actually, but I’d give names the advantage because she works primarily with written rather than visual mediums. (Also, BNHA names being the ridiculous puns that they are, you can probably tell more about a person in HeroAca Land by analyzing their name than their face anyway.)

Is she more concerned with defending her honor, or protecting her status? Her status, absolutely. Impugning her honor hurts no one but her; she can laugh that off because honor is a silly social construct anyway. Threatening her status is a much more dangerous prospect—her status is long-cultivated to enable the advancement of Liberation ideology; it lets her keep an eye on Re-Destro, who needs as many people looking out for him as he can get; it’s what she’s worked for all her life. Curious will fuck you up if you threaten her status.

In what situation was she the most afraid she’d ever been? The time she got in trouble for nearly exploding some dude’s face off for stealing her purse. She was 17, had spent very little time in non-Liberated territory before, and was not raised to wait on heroes to solve her problems. She wasn’t afraid of the thief or the hero, really, but she was completely terrified that she might have just blown over half a century of secrecy by not performing Helpless Civilian well enough. The terror was pretty convincing to the police interviewing her about it, anyway. On the whole, it was a very valuable learning experience!

Skeptic—

General Thoughts Tomoyasu is a character I haven't written extensively yet, but what I think is most interesting about him so far is the contrast of his hyper-modern methods with the bone-deep zealotry for the cause. See, Rikiya, Koku and Chitose all grew up in the sticks; Rikiya and Koku had money from a young age, but it was old money, tied up in trusts. (Geten didn't have any of those, but Geten's a different story for other reasons.) Tomoyasu grew up in a major city from the start; he was a technological prodigy from practically as soon as he could hold a tablet. He has very little respect for the old ways of doing things when he knows there are newer, better ways of advancing the Cause. However, none of that makes him more likely to break from the MLA's ranks—if anything, his idiosyncratic approach just causes him to approach Liberation in really weird ways, ways no one else would ever come up with.

Pressganging Bubaigawara Jin based on a plan to clone Re-Destro? Who else would that ever even occur to, much less such that it became the basis for an elaborate psychological assault? But that's Skeptic in a nutshell—respect the old for what it did at the time, but don't think that means you have to use the same methods they did forever as you pick up the torch to carry it forward.

Family Situation He has an amicable but not intimate relationship with his family. His parents are very proud of what he's done for the cause and how he won the confidence of Re-Destro, but they don't make much claim to understand how his mind works. In turn, he recognizes the value of their support over the years—he certainly made a lot of waves with his unabashed venom for the MLA leadership's hidebound traditionalism, and his parents' staunch backing meant a lot for him being able to take the stands he did—but is not very emotionally close with them. Might find himself with an older brother, if I ever occasion to write about his family situation in more depth.

Education He graduated a four-year university program for getting his computer science degree in two very intense years, during which he did virtually nothing for the Great Cause, his intention being to better position himself for maximum ability to advance Liberation afterward. See above re: battles his parents fought for him while he was busy modernizing.

Meeting Re-Destro He met Re-Destro via Curious. He was 22, just a year out of university and already climbing the chain of command at a young telecommunications company. Rikiya was 33, working on the Claustro, and needed proprietary comms built to a higher standard of security than Detnerat was focused on. Curious, who was always better positioned to be keeping up with the local personalities, introduced them.

Tomoyasu attempted to keep a civil tongue in his head the first few times he and RD met, but he'd been running on bile and energy drinks for years by that point and was hard-pressed to stop just because he was meeting his Grand Commander. If anything, finding out that Rikiya was okay with his direction and his mouth eventually helped him chill the fuck out, marginally.

On that note, Skeptic is absolutely the advisor most willing to backtalk Rikiya right to his face. (Rikiya loves him for it.) Oh, he'll still accede to Rikiya's wishes, and Re-Destro's orders are his highest priority, but that doesn't mean he feels obligated to be diffident about it. Like Curious, he has a highly developed sense of, "It's fine if it's for the greater good," which will and has led to him taking things into his own hands when he thinks he knows best (which is always). He's not going to explicitly disobey orders, but he will creatively interpret them if he feels strongly about them, and he will try to "anticipate" orders before anyone has time to give him specific ones, the better to tailor his efforts towards proving his methods and goals correct rather than being stuck with orders he hates.

On Names I’ve definitely evolved some in my approach on this since I started writing the MLA cast, but at current, Skeptic and Geten are the only ones I consistently write as using and thinking mainly in terms of code names rather than given names. Trumpet is too familiar with the public/private divide, and has too much intimate history with Rikya-the-person, to default to Re-Destro; Curious is too trained to look for The Human Heart of the Story. Re-Destro himself, ever since breaking up with Koku, has always tried to use code names for people (himself excluded, because he has enormous self-confidence issues about measuring himself up to the original Destro), but can slip into given names when he’s vulnerable. To Skeptic and Geten, though, the code name is the real name, for all intents and purposes. The cover identity is a fake; the whole point of the code name is that you’re proving yourself worthy of taking up your proper place in the Army. Of course the name you win for yourself is the name that counts.

Lightning Round

Given a blank piece of paper, a pencil, and nothing to do, what would happen? You’d pretty much have to lock him in a room with nothing but paper and pencil in it for that to be his first resort rather than whatever item of personal electronics he’d otherwise have on his person. But assuming some actual plausible scenario—couldn’t bring his electronics into a government building, let’s say—he would find trying to do something productive on paper and pencil rather beneath him, and he’s an inveterate fidgeter. I mostly see him folding that ludicrously tall frame of his into a chair and setting to using the pencil to poke about three hundred holes in the sheet of paper, meticulous and orderly, while muttering complaints to himself the whole time until something annoys him a bit too much and he jabs the whole pencil through the page.

Who does he see as his best friend? His worst enemy? I headcanon him having a very reasonable, functional, productive relationship with his No. 1 advisor, Red, and being reasonable, functional, and productive probably goes a lot farther on making you Skeptic’s “friend” than any amount of emotional intimacy. But “best friend” is not really the kind of language Skeptic uses for his relationships; if you were to ask him who his best friend is, he’d probably tell you, “Iced coffee.” As to his worst enemy, that’s just whoever is annoying him most on any given day, from difficult clients, to people annoying Re-Destro, stodgy elders, that hero grinning like a tool, that couple walking too slow in front of him on the sidewalk, etc. And Skeptic is pretty proactive about dealing with enemies, as much as he can be.

Has he ever been bitten by an animal? How was he affected (or unaffected)? lol he is a city boy and always has been. He probably tried to pet a stray cat once out of curiosity, and because it seemed like the sort of thing people did, and then has never forgiven Animals In General when it bit him and then ran off.

Geten—

General Thoughts Another one I haven’t written a great deal about yet, particularly in the present day, though I’m looking for that to change soonish. One thing I’d like to explore is Geten when he’s not seething with rage and shame because he failed to bring Re-Destro a victory in Deika. The fandom tends to write Geten as an always-angry attack dog barely contained beneath a chilly veneer, and that’s fair—ever since we got the face reveal, ever since the MLA’s defeat at Shigaraki’s hands, Geten has been an always-angry attack dog barely contained beneath a chilly veneer.

But if you look at Geten from before we knew what was under the hood, you find a different story. “Chilly and angry all the time” is not at all how he acted when he was fighting Dabi! At that point, he was talkative, even chatty. He engaged in a lot of snide smack-talk; he was obviously confident in himself and he spoke very proudly of the MLA as a collective.

He was still quiet at the dinner he attended with Rikiya and his advisors, yes, so I don’t think Geten’s done some kind of full 180 on characterization. I do, however, think that Geten has a sense of humor in there, has a sense of camaraderie with the MLA rooted in more than just his relationship with Re-Destro, even if Re-Destro is obviously his most important person. I don’t know if we’ll ever see that in the manga proper, given everything that’s happened, but it’s worth remembering in terms of what Geten is like when he’s solely among allies.

Family Situation Orphaned at a young age, and a problem child from then on. He passed through a series of foster parents and state facilities before eventually crossing paths with the leader of the local MLA branch in Kesseru, Beacon (more on him next time). This encounter would lead to him being sent to a group home with a reputation for being good with such difficult cases, giving them Structure and Companionship and Meaningful Work. (Spoilers: It’s Liberation.)

Despite evening out considerably after a significant meeting with Re-Destro when he was 7[iv], Geten never got particularly close to his adopted family/the other kids at the group home. He's very favored by the Grand Commander, for one thing, and he has the strongest quirk in the home for another—and since he learned the quirk supremacist stuff from them, that’s a pretty significant part of the dynamic! Both of these factors mean there's some distance between him and the rest. Still, he's not on bad terms with them—indeed, his foster parents are quite proud of him—and he would probably tear out someone's throat with his teeth for threatening them, if only as a matter of pride.

There are 4-6 other kids there at any given time; for the bulk of his young adulthood, there were two older than him, the others younger. He doesn't have much time for Big Brother Pastimes, but is not completely immune to them, either, particularly where the youngest kids are concerned. His tolerance for Little Brother Antics, however, is nonexistent—if the older kids think they can ruffle his hair and treat him like a kid, they can square the fuck up; he is Number One around here and don’t forget it.

Education Geten never went to school, but he's not completely uneducated. He had some tutoring in the group home, some more from Re-Destro personally, and has a pile of books he keeps at his bedside, mostly strategic in nature. He finds them vexing at times, but is slowly reading through them anyway because Re-Destro asked him to. He’s been a bit more diligent about it since he was made a regiment leader, because lord knows Dabi isn't contributing much.

On Re-Destro Re-Destro became fond of Geten for the same reason he became fond of Skeptic and Curious—Geten was willing to push back. He really did make some attempts early on to keep Geten at a proper distance, mindful of anything that would look too much like favoritism. And Geten knew, in the hard-headed way of a child, that Re-Destro was being a grown-up about things, trying to be mature, trying to be impartial. Geten just didn’t care about any of those things. Every time, he would listen very seriously to the things Rikiya told him, nod attentively, repeat back what he’d been told, and then go on about doing his own thing anyway. And his own thing was, typically, to keep coming back.

Of course, if there’s anything we can tell about Re-Destro from the way he treats Shigaraki, it’s that Re-Destro loves people who take the choice away from him.

Eventually, of course, Geten grew up (mostly; I peg him at 19 now), joined the MLA officially, and had to settle into the structure of the Army. It began to lead to trouble for Re-Destro, when Geten blatantly disobeyed him; it stopped being cute. Still, the sense that he Knows What’s Best lingers, so Geten works himself very, very hard to be everything Re-Destro needs him to be and more, so that maybe Re-Destro’s burden will be just that little bit lighter.

On Quirk Supremacy (and Re-Destro, still) Here’s the thing about Geten and the whole, “A life without a strong meta-ability has no value,” line, and this continues to drive me mad because of how people getting it wrong influences the bad takes on the MLA in this fandom: Geten is not a reliable witness. He is not one of the leaders of the MLA, nor does he speak for its rank and file. Even if you assume the absolute worst about his implications there, far worse than is justified by the text, Geten’s very name, Apocrypha, means that he cannot be presumed to be aligned with MLA orthodoxy.

The only one of the people close to Re-Destro who wasn't born and raised MLA, he still manages to come off, in some ways, as the most zealous of the lot of them. But really, it’s very noticeable that Geten—unlike Re-Destro himself, and unlike even Re-Destro’s close cohort—never talks about the original Destro, never even mentions him. When he thinks about his leader, he only ever thinks about Rikiya. Geten doesn’t follow Re-Destro because of his bloodline, because of the tenets; he follows Re-Destro because of personal loyalty.[v]

So how best to do that? Well, think about it: Geten is not terribly intelligent, nor wealthy, nor well-connected. He and Trumpet are the ones most influenced by the quirk supremacist line of thought, Trumpet because his relatively weak quirk comes off as exponentially stronger the more he can surround himself in people it works on, and Geten because his strong quirk lets him mentally justify Re-Destro's investment in him despite his other insufficiencies.

Compare this with Re-Destro, who only ever talks about quirks in terms of freedom. Even more prominently, look at Skeptic and Curious, who are not at all defined by their quirks and how strong or weak said quirks may be. Indeed, those two devote scarcely a thought to the matter because they contribute to the cause in much more important ways and seem to be perfectly comfortable with where that leaves them.

Geten may not be very smart or influential, but he’s very capable of looking at what strengths he does have and focusing hard on those. That, I think, is what really lead to his embracing quirk supremacy, even in the face of evidence that he doesn’t have the whole picture: the search for a way to measure himself up to the movers and shakers Rikiya is otherwise surrounded with, and not come up drastically wanting.

“Apocrypha” Geten has been Geten for a long time, since long before the MLA types usually take up their code names. He’s also an outlier in the MLA for having a name in Japanese instead of in English—the only one who does! My headcanon, unless and until we get some other members with Japanese code names, is that he got the name directly from Re-Destro—possibly even in the conversation that lead to him imprinting so hard on the man when he was 7—and insisted on keeping it before any other code name that was suggested to him in later years.

But yes, he does have a normal Japanese name on file at the group home, which he’s obligated to answer to on the rare occasions that someone from Child Services is checking in or he and Re-Destro are out in public. I don’t plan to bother coming up with it unless I need to, as I expect we’ll get it in a character profile one of these days.

His Quirk While a lot of people like the vibe of Geten and Dabi being somewhat equivalently vulnerable to their own quirks, and I agree it makes for good fanart, in truth, Geten is only as vulnerable to his ice as Endeavor is his flames. Which is to say, he isn't immune, but he's certainly more resistant to it than the average person would be! There’s already plenty of good material to contrast Dabi and Geten without pretending their quirks are more mirrored than is actually the case.

Lightning Round

How does he treat people in service jobs? He doesn’t, because he’s never in a position to interact with people in service jobs. There have been times he’s gone out with Re-Destro, but in those cases he’s mostly let Re-Destro handle the human interaction.

What does he dislike in other people? Laziness; the lack of a higher purpose of some kind. (It’s possible he’d thaw out on his disdain for Dabi considerably if he knew more about Dabi’s plans to undermine the whole of the Hero System than Dabi is inclined to tell him.)

Is he always there for a friend in need? Sure, as long as by “friend” you mean “fellow Liberation warrior” and by “need” you mean “in need of an icicle punched through one of someone else’s desperately fleshy body parts.”

Footnotes

[i] Sanctum II's tastes being what they are, this probably means Rikiya is the MLA member most likely to be able to perform traditional Japanese tea ceremony.

[ii] And there were elders who would have been happy to leave it at that permanently, I'm sure. There are always going to be those regents who have trouble relinquishing power back to the boy prince when he grows up and becomes king, you know?

[iii] And, when it eventually got out that they were dating, a relatively solid match, give or take the surrogacy arrangements that would eventually need to be made.

[iv] I’m hoping canon gives us some details on this eventually, so I’m not planning to iron out more headcanon on the matter unless I absolutely have to.

[v] This, incidentally, is a large part of why Rikiya does keep him around—it’s soothing to have someone around who never brings up his ancestor. Anyway, after Geten evolved his quirk, people stopped complaining so much, even though RD never did get around to, like, giving Geten any formal responsibilities. Geten, who knows very well that Re-Destro’s real advisors have real jobs, mostly took this as reason to be all the stronger, in hopes that he’d eventually be given one.

#boku no hero academia #bnha #my hero academia #yotsubashi chikara #yotsubashi rikiya #hanabata koku #kizuki chitose #chikazoku tomoyasu #geten #destro bnha #re-destro #trumpet bnha #curious bnha #skeptic bnha #meta liberation army #my writing

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whatareyousearchingfordean · 4 years

Text

Happiness Begins

Part 25

Chapter Summary: The reader finds herself dragged to a charity event by her big brother. What will she do when she finds out what he really has planned for her?

Word Count: 4.6K+

Warnings: Language, angst

Author’s Note: Well, here it is. The final part. I am honestly amazed I even made it here. This story turned into a true monster from its original inception. I know I would have never made it here without all of your guys’ love and support. Your feedback means the world, so keep it up. You never know whose day you might make. I hope this is all you dreamed it would be if not, don’t blame me, I just typed this shit out ha. xo Alex

Catch up with the series masterlist and check out Alexandra’s Library for more works by yours truly!

Jared had insisted that Y/n ride with him and Gen to the fundraiser he had begged that she go to in the first place. He knew her too well, after all. If Y/n didn’t want to go somewhere, she was exceptionally good at getting out of it. But their sharing of a ride to the event left her without a number of excuses. So she bit the bullet and just accepted her fate. After all it was for a good cause, and she was authorized to make a donation on behalf of Et Cetera.

Y/n followed behind her brother and his wife into the event, the two of them practically skipping, their fingers entwined between them. The sight made her both smile and her stomach turn.

Out Youth Austin had organized this little shindig at the country club that Jared frequented in town. It was the perfect sunny afternoon for a party. Y/n laughed to herself as she took in the image in front of her. It reminded her too much of the final scene from Step Brothers, well, minus the ocean in the background and the giant ice sculpture of a helicopter.

The place was bustling, there was a live band playing some song she didn’t recognize, but they had a certain aura about them that was infectious. The charity had also decided on a fully catered Texas style barbeque, complete with lots of alcohol. Y/n mumbled a silent ‘thank you’ to whatever was listening as she spotted the bar. Silently she slipped away from her brother and towards the bar, looking for something cold and fruity to keep her sated.

Jared noticed her absence almost instantly, taking the opportunity of her departure to initiate his plan. Well technically, her spotting the bar was step one of his plan, which she had fallen for hook line and sinker. Genevieve stood begrudgingly by his side, also in on said plan, no matter how much she truly hated it. The things we do for love...

“She’s going to kill you when she finds out, you know that?” Gen whispered to her husband as he was bent over the sign-in table.

“I can handle myself. Besides, I’m sure she’ll thank me later.”

“You have a lot of confidence in that. I hope you are right.” Gen mumbled. Jared made a face at his wife as if to say ‘trust me’. He knew full well how badly this could go, but he also understood how good it could all work out. Things were still tense between himself and his baby sister and at this point he could lose her either way. He at least had to try this.

Once they had signed themselves and Y/n in, they went to find her with their seating assignment. She was reluctant to go too far from the bar, earning a sour look from Jared. Like a scolded child, she followed him to their table, a small frown on her face.

Once she knew where she was to eat dinner, she left them again to network. Jared and Gen were quick though to follow her into the crowd. They stuck to her like glue the whole time, unwilling to let her out their sight. After all, she didn’t want to be here in the first place, making her a flight risk in Jared’s eyes. And he couldn’t exactly lose her if he wanted this to work. He also was there to steer her in the right direction. After all he couldn’t risk her seeing something she shouldn’t and ruining everything.

Y/n, on the other hand, couldn’t understand her family’s odd behavior. Everytime she turned around, there were Jared and Gen. It didn’t matter where she went or who she was talking to, they were always a step behind her, making the young woman uneasy. Y/n chose to brush off their peculiar actions, chalking it up to Jared’s lack of trust in her.

The dinner was served about an hour after the three of them had arrived at the venue. The food that was served was like nothing she had ever tasted before. It gave a true definition to southern style cooking. Y/n made a mental note to get the caterer’s information from whomever she could pry it from.

Y/n quirked her head up as the music died down from the stage and the audience was applauding. A spritely woman, who Y/n deemed to only be a few years older than herself, bounced onto the stage, taking the mic from the lead singer, “Desert is about to be served, we hope you all enjoy it as it was made right here in Austin. We have about thirty minutes until the auction starts, so get your wallets out and ready.” The organizer rushed off the stage just as quick as she came to a hoopa from the crowd. Y/n turned back to her brother, her brow scrunched together on her forehead.

“You didn’t say there would be an auction.” She noted, confusion written on her features. Gen suddenly became very interested in the ice cream now being placed in front of her as Y/n spoke. Y/n picked up on the way the woman averted her eyes, not daring to look up at her sister in law.

“I didn’t? I could have sworn I did...” Jared’s voice was high as he played her comment off.

Y/n hummed, annoyance now bubbling up in her chest. “No, you didn’t.” Her tone was firm with her resolution. “Jared, what are they auctioning off?” She had to ask the question even though, based on her family's sudden change in demeanor, she was afraid she didn’t truly want to know the answer.

“Oh, you know, just the usual.”

“Jared.” Y/n set her lips in a tight line as she glared at her brother. He was up to something, and she knew it was going to piss her off.

“They are auctioning off dates with local eligible bachelorettes.” He shrugged as if it was no big deal. A huff of air left her lips as the realization dawned on her. Y/n closed her eyes.

“Please tell me you didn’t…”

“I did.”

“Jared! You signed me up to be auctioned off like some cattle to a strange old rich guy? I can’t believe you!” Y/n threw her napkin on the table and moved to leave. Jared grabbed her arm, an action that only sent more fire through her veins. She tugged her arm from his grasp. “Don’t.”

“Y/n.” Jared’s voice was soft as he attempted to not draw more attention to themselves than had already been drawn. “It’s for a good cause. Please? Who knows, maybe this could be exactly what you need.”

Y/n stared at him, incredulous. His words didn’t make any sense to her. Jared said ‘this could be exactly what she needed’? What does that even mean?

“You can’t back out now, they already have your name. Think about how that would look.” Jared raised his eyebrows at her and she could only clench her jaw. He was right, and that only pissed her off. He was smarter than she cared to admit.

“I hate you for doing this to me.” Y/n growled as she sat back down in her seat. Jared smiled, the action quickly faltering when he realized she would not be smiling back at him.

The sun was just beginning to fall towards the horizon as the auction started. Jared explained that Y/n was to stay in her seat until they introduced her, then she would head up on stage. The whole notion of selling dates with women churned at her gut, causing her to leave her desert untouched.

As much as she hated the idea, she was in this now. There was no way she could go back without making herself and the charity look like fools, and she hated that Jared knew that too. The only saving grace that was helping her hold back the bile in her throat was that she knew it was all for charity.

She did a quick check of her makeup as woman after woman was sold to the highest bidder. One more girl was sent off to her fate, when the announcer introduced Y/n as the next prize. She made her way to the stage, her head held high and a polite smile on her face.

“Miss Padalecki is a seasoned and truly talented makeup artist. She studied at E.I. School of Professional Makeup in Hollywood and has worked on multiple television shows, including the one in which her dear older brother, Jared Padalecki, stars; Supernatural. This beautiful woman also owns her own makeup line headquartered right here in Austin; Et Cetera. Shall we start the bidding at one thousand dollars?” Multiple hands went up before she could get the words out, much to Y/n’s surprise. The number jumped to five thousand dollars before she even had a chance to blink.

“Ten thousand.” A hand in the far corner went up and her eyes immediately snapped towards the voice. Y/n would recognize that voice anywhere and her suspicion was confirmed when she locked eyes with those familiar golden green orbs. Her breath caught in her throat as she finally understood what Jared had been talking about. He had set this all up, reasons for which she didn’t understand. Last she knew, the two of them hadn’t even been on talking terms. What had she missed?

A few more people out bid Jensen, and she wasn’t sure if she was relieved about that or not. Hell, she wasn’t even sure if she should be relieved. But Jensen, the stubborn ass he was, wasn’t letting her go that easily, coming back with a counter offer of a good three grand over the last one. He was dead set on making sure he won this one.

“Eighteen thousand.” Some guy called from a table in the front, but she didn’t even glance his way. The steady drumming in her chest began to pick up pace, threatening to burst from her chest as she waited with bated breath, her eyes never leaving Jensen.

“Twenty five thousand.” Y/n scoffed, if he won this thing she was going to punch him for spending this kind of money on her, especially when he could have just called her. It was a stupid, ostentatious gesture, but that being said, she couldn’t deny the butterflies it had awoken in her gut.

“Do I hear twenty six?” The auctioneer called out. It was quiet. “Going once,” Still silence. “Twice… Sold to paddle 853. Thank you so much for your generous donation.” Y/n let out a breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding. A hand found her elbow and began to guide the stunned woman off the stage.

Her body was shaking as she fought her conflicting emotions. On one hand, she was relieved that she wasn’t stuck with an awkward night with a stranger, but on the hand, she was pissed at Jensen and her brother for setting her up. Jared met her stare across the tables and she glared before stomping off across the golf course to get her some space to think.

Her heels were just hitting the pavement of the far side of the parking lot when she heard someone calling her name behind her. She didn’t want to turn just yet to face the man she knew had chased after her, but she had nowhere else to go.

“Y/n, wait!” Jensen tried again as the woman spun on her heel to face him, the confusion evident even behind the anger in her eyes. “Listen, I know you’re mad-”

“Damn right I’m mad! You two had no right to do this. If you wanted to talk to me, you could have just picked up the phone. Why go through all this?” She seethed.

“Would you have answered if I called?” He asked her, his head tilting even though he already knew the answer.

“That’s not the point.” She mumbled. Though honestly, she couldn’t answer him as to whether or not she would have answered. Right now she wanted nothing more than to say no, just to pour salt in his wounds, but she couldn’t do that.

“It’s exactly the point, Y/n/n.” Jensen’s voice dropped as he made his point. “If it helps, it was all Jared’s idea.” Jensen tried to ease the tension with a small smile and she hated how her body instinctively reacted to it with a smile of its own. She quickly composed her face as soon as she realized her slip.

“I think that makes you feel better, not me.” She answered honestly.

“You’re probably right.” Jensen let his shoulders fall as he looked at her. Y/n looked just as stunning as he remembered, if not more so. That fact only had his heart clenching in his chest, the evidence of his mistakes standing in front of him. As he admired her tanned skin where it showed dark in contrast against her yellow dress, the way her hair fell in waves framing all the high points in her face, and even the tension in her jaw as she fought herself to let him see her smile, all the reasons for his past choices seemed irrelevant. This woman standing in front of him had his whole heart. He understood that now. There was no one else that he would ever love more than her.

“I know I may not be your favorite person right now, but I won’t take back what we did. All I’m asking is that you listen to what I have to say.”

Y/n chewed on the inside of her lip as she eyed the man in front of her. He looked like he was on the verge of tears, his features pulled down as he pleaded with her. And no matter how much she wanted to tell him to fuck off, she couldn’t. All she could do was nod.

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow, six o’clock?” Jensen offered.

“Six o’clock.” Y/n confirmed before turning away and leaving him at the edge of the parking lot.

****

Y/n stared at her open closet, contemplating how she should dress for this. Honestly, she knew full well she was overthinking all of it. It didn’t matter what she wore, but she also knew that it was just her anxiety’s way of diverting from the real problems raging in her head.

Eventually she just landed on a pair of jeans and a nice blouse. She paired it with her favorite sneakers. In the end, she decided she just wanted to be comfortable.

Y/n was making sure she had what she needed in her purse when there was a soft knock on her door.

Taking a deep breath, she went to the light wooden door and pulled it open. Jensen had a soft smile on his face as he came into view. He was sporting a pair of dark wash jeans, paired with a soft looking tee. It seemed he went just as casual as she had, topping off his look with a pair of converse.

“You look beautiful.” He noted as his eyes racked up her figure. Heat flooded her cheeks under his intense gaze.

Y/n cleared her throat, not wanting to dwell on his compliment. “Shall we go?” Jensen stepped back, signalling for her to exit. Y/n locked up behind herself and headed down the stairs outside her door that lead to the parking lot.

Once they were pulling out of the lot, Y/n could feel his gaze on her from the driver's seat. It made her uncomfortable and hot all at the same time. “Mind paying attention to the road, you aren’t fake driving here.” She turned to him just as he snapped his head back to the road.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel weird.”

“It’s okay. Truly this whole thing is weird.” Y/n admitted, her voice low.

“I’m sorry.” Jensen repeated himself. Y/n rolled her eyes at that, it grated on her nerves more than it should have.

“Jensen, you’ve got to stop saying ‘I’m sorry’. It won’t make a difference.” What she wanted to say was it wouldn’t make a difference because she had already forgiven him. What she wanted to say was he was wasting his breath. But she didn’t, just because she forgave him didn’t mean that everything was rainbows and butterflies. Jensen still owed her an explanation. And besides, it was fun to watch him squirm a little. Her comment had officially shut him up, for now. She could see where his jaw was clenched as he kept his eyes fixed directly ahead. It almost made her feel guilty… almost.

Jensen pulled off towards McKinney Falls State Park, parking in a secluded spot under a tree. He hopped out of the car without a word. She watched him as he walked around the car and opened her door for her, offering her his hands as she stepped out. With a silent ‘thank you’ he let go of her hand and went to his trunk. Y/n couldn’t help her curiosity, only to have it satiated as he pulled out a small cooler and a rolled up blanket.

“A picnic?” It was hard for her to hide the upturn of her lips.

“Yeah, last I remember you liked my cooking. And I thought you would feel more comfortable away from my place.” Y/n cast her eyes away from him. It was a sweet gesture, and she had to fight the tears stinging in her eyes. Sometimes she really hated how easily she cried.

“Lead the way.” Jensen moved past her into the relatively empty park. The whole place was huge, leaving plenty of space for people to spread out. They were walking for she didn’t even know how long, when he finally picked a spot under a large oak tree near the water. Jensen tossed the blanket out for them to take a seat on and placed the cooler in the center.

“Come on.” He urged her to follow his lead as he sprawled out on the blanket. The grown man looked hilarious as he tried to find a comfortable position. Y/n crossed her legs and sat up straight across from him, waiting intently for him to start unpacking whatever it was that he had. “I didn’t think this through.” He admitted as he continued to shuffle around.

“Just lean back against the tree.” She gestured to him and took it upon herself to pull items from his cooler. She started with the two bottles of sweet tea, then a tupperware container filled with what looked like coleslaw, followed by two bags of chips and some sandwiches. Y/n handed off Jensen his share then grabbed the forks and moved to sit next to him, her back resting against the tree. She set the container of coleslaw between them and handed Jensen a fork before turning her attention to the sandwich. Y/n took a bite, her taste buds exploding with flavor with one bite.

“Holy,” She mumbled around a mouthful of food.

“Yeah?” Y/n nodded, she could never deny his cooking abilities, especially considering this was one of the best sandwiches she’s ever had. How the hell does he do that? “You should try the coleslaw, it’s grandma Ackles’ secret recipe.”

Y/n covered her mouth as she swallowed her bite. “Okay.” she agreed. Jensen filled the fork with the dish and held it out for her to eat. Her mouth closed around the utensil, her lips pulling all of the tangy salad into her mouth. Jensen had to bite back his groan as he watched her movement, followed by her eyes rolling up in her head. After all this time, she still had that effect on him, and he knew she always would.

“Good?” The tip of Jensen’s tongue was peaking out of the corner of his mouth as he waited.

“That’s amazing, like really amazing. What does she put in that?” Y/n hummed.

“Sorry, I promised her I would take her secret to the grave.”

“Your grandma Ackles was a very mean woman.” Jensen laughed as a pout formed on Y/n’s features. He had to avert his attention elsewhere. Y/n could have gotten him to do anything she wanted with that pout. It was unfair, really.

“She actually kind of was.” Jensen mused, remembering the strict yet loving woman.

The two of them continued their picnic in relative silence. Everything Jensen had put together was beyond delicious. It amazed Y/n how he could make something so simple taste so delicious. But she never doubted the man, after all he was annoyingly good at everything.

Once the food began to dry up, they both knew that they were just postponing the inevitable. For once, Y/n found the courage to just bite the bullet. “Well, you have me here. I’m listening.”

“Okay...” Jensen sucked in a breath as he brushed the chip crumbs from his fingers. “Gotta be honest, I’m not exactly sure where to start. I’ve gone over what I would say in this moment since you left Vancouver, but nothing ever quite came out right.” His hands rubbed up and down his jean clad thighs, one of the other nervous habits that Y/n had quickly picked up on from him. He cast his glance down for a moment, before looking back at her. Her eyebrows were perked up on her forehead as she waited in silence.

“Jared and I have talked. We’ve actually been talking for a couple weeks.”

“I’m glad.” And she was glad for the both of them. They were important to each other and they deserved to be in each other’s lives. As much as she hated how much their mistakes broke her relationship with her brother, she also hated what it did to Jensen and Jared’s relationship.

“He actually came to me and we hashed out our differences. I mean we aren’t where we used to be but I think with time we will get there. He told me you guys are talking again too.”

“Yeah, well it’s debatable how long it will last this time.” Y/n grumbled. She was still pissed at him for lying to her and she felt like being dramatic about it for a while.

“Y/n/n, we messed up, I messed up. We went about this all the wrong way. But I don’t take back leaving you, because it did give you a chance to make up with your brother, and that’s all I ever wanted, your happiness.” Jensen admitted.

Y/n pursed her lips, pushing down the fight building in her chest. “So why are we here then?”

“Because you’re not happy Y/n.”

“And you know that how?” She pushed back.

“Jared told me you are thinking about selling Et Cetera.”

“So that means I’m unhappy?”

“Yeah, it does. I know you better thank you want to believe. Selling the most cherished thing to you and moving across the country away from everyone and everything that you love is not like you. The woman I fell in love with fights for what she believes in, for what she wants. And I can’t let you go without telling you it’s a mistake.”

“All of this is just you telling me what is best for me again. I don’t see how it’s any different than the last fight we had.”

“It’s different because you know it too. You’re running, and don’t try to lie to me. I know this is about me.”

“So what if it is? I reserve the right to make my own life decisions.”

“You’re absolutely right, you do. But I can’t let you do that without knowing all the facts. Y/n, I love you, and selfishly I don’t want you to go. Walking out that door in Vancouver left this emptiness in my chest that’s suffocating me. Everyday I wake up wondering how you are doing, and if you are okay. You’re the first person I wanted to call when my manager set up this big audition for me, and you were the first person I wanted to call when I didn’t get the part.” Jensen let out a huff, composing himself before continuing. “I just couldn’t let you go without knowing that.”

Y/n was at a loss for words, for the first time in a long time. That was quite the admission, and what was one to say to that? “What about Danneel?” It was the only thing she could come up with in the moment, her words startling even her.

Jensen smiled. “I was hurting and needed a friend to talk to. I was looking for advice on how to get myself out of this funk. Danneel knows me just as good as anyone.”

“What did she tell you to do?”

“She said that if I love you, and you love me then we would find our way back to each other, even if I had to go and get you.”

“So this is you just coming to get me then.” Y/m mused to herself, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. “What if I don’t love you?”

“Then I’ll walk away, and you can go to New York and be a big successful business woman that lives out all her dreams. But only if that’s what you truly want.” He paused and shifted himself towards her more. “Is that what you want?”

Y/n swallowed, the motion getting stuck in her throat. “No, I want you. It’s always been you.”

“Then please don’t do this. Stay here and build your business big enough to scare that other company into bankruptcy.” Jensen pleaded with her. Y/n shook her head, chuckling. She knew it would come to this at some point.

“Jay, I already turned them down. You are right, I couldn’t leave my family behind, and I couldn’t leave you.”

“How long were you going to listen to me rant for?” His voice rose an octave, his thousand watt smile returning to his face.

“You were on a roll,” she shrugged. “Besides, you said all I had to do was listen.” Y/n failed miserably to hide the smile on her face. Jensen shoved at her shoulder, sending both of them into a fit of laughter.

As he got back his senses, a warm smile spread across Jensen’s face. There was one last thing they needed to clear up. “Listen, I know we still have some things to work on, but I want to work on them. You and me. What do you say?”

“You had me at ‘you look beautiful’.” Y/n licked her lips, an action not unnoticed by the man next to her. Jensen shook his head, fighting back his own smartass comment. “Seriously though, best idea I’ve heard all day.”

Jensen chuckled as he leaned himself towards Y/n. “I’d really like to kiss you now, if that’s okay.”

Y/n reached her hand out, cupping his jaw as she ran her thumb over the stubble on his face. “You are such a sap sometimes.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“And an idiot.” She finished with a roll of her eyes, all the while smiling like an idiot herself, before leaning into him and bringing his lips to her own. At that moment, it didn’t matter what had happened in the past. It didn’t even matter what was going to happen in the future. All that mattered was that he loved her and she loved him. And all the rest, well, it would fall into place, one way or another.

Epilogue

Forevers: @spn-impala @22sarah08 @turtlepad @callmekda @chaldei @hobby27 @cowboysnwinchesters @tranquility-or-chaos @pikabootoyouchu @dawnie1988 @grease222 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @polina-93 @clarinette07 @moonlight-babeh @suckerforfanfic @witandnargles @sleepylunarwolf @stiles-stilinski-24-dylan @geeksareunique @akshi8278 @superfanficnatural @malfoysqueen14 @deanwanddamons @waywardbeanie @emoryhemsworth @talesmaniac89 @waywardbeanie

Et Cetera: @jbbarnesgirl @hillface89 @arses21434 @thevelvetseries @sslater34 @mrsirishboru @smoothdogsgirl @spnfamily-j2 @encounterthepast @facadeformyrealblog @supernatural-bellawinchester @screechingartisancashbailiff @rebeccathefangirl @squirrelnotsam @heartinmyhead1 @1d-killed-me @samsgirl93 @deans-baby-momma @deanmonandnegansbitch @woodworthti666 @supraveng @onethirstyunicorn @heartsaved @know2grow @littlewhiterose @surprisinglysarah @stoneyggirl @carryon-doctor-lock @thebookisbtr @youaremyfiveever @kalesrebellion @lilulo-12 @winchester-fantasies @vicmc624 @supernatural3002 @winchester-writes @maralisa124 @therollingstoners @parinarain @kaz11283 @charmed-asylum

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rockofeye · 3 years

Text

It’s Kouzen Season: More about Kouzen Zaka and His Family

As I wrote recently, the month of May is a special time for Kouzen and his family. Kouzen’s fet/feast day is May 1 and May 2, but fetes for Kouzen are held all through the month of May in Haiti and the Dyaspora.

In English, ‘kouzen’ translates to cousin and is a title that we address Kouzen as. He comes with a lot of different names: Azaka Mede, Azaka/Zaka Si, Azaka/Zaka La, Zaka Krib, Zaka Toné, Kouzen Mòn, and many others. He also is very, very close with his wife Kouzin, and there are a whole variety of children in fanmi Kouzen as well.

Kouzen is most well known as the minister of agriculture and work, and this is reflected in how we address him sometimes as Minis/Minister. He is vital to life in Haiti, as it is him that makes the crops grow and ensures there is enough food for the lakou to survive, as well as oversees business and money. It’s often said that even Haitians who don’t serve the lwa always give for Kouzen, because he determines success or failure and can answer hunger.

In some ways, he is also the living memory of Haiti; he carries the weight and knowledge of subsistence farming and how to survive with very little. He is a master medsin fèy (literally ‘leaf medicine’, refers to a practioner of bush medicine), and is often called upon to treat illness especially for folks who can’t afford a Western doctor or even a medsin fèy in the community. He is the reminder of where many Haitians come from and what Haiti used to be: a more rural island where farming and agriculture ruled over most other businesses. It’s not a coincidence that his month of May is also Haitian Heritage Month.

He is often referred to as a lwa travay/work lwa for his indefatigable work ethic. Kouzen knows what it is to be hungry and to suffer, so he is working all the time to make sure he never has to suffer again and that his family and those that he loves don’t suffer either. His fetes are often utilized as means to determine how the next year will go; if Kouzen comes happy and enjoys himself and eats, it will probably be a good year with normal challenges. If he comes angry or upset and refuses his food and the special marketplaces made for him, that’s potentially a forewarning that there are difficulties ahead and a lot of work goes into appeasing Kouzen to change the flow of luck.

Kouzen is also intimately involved in things like immigration. He can help (or harm!) an immigration process, and can be a huge ally in getting those papers moving.

He is always very concerned about being taken advantage of. He comes as a poor peasant, and so folks often underestimate him or try to rip him off when he loans money or offers a good deal. He is incredibly sensitive to this and is paranoid that someone will steal from him. It’s not unusual for him to arrive at his fet and unpack his makout to make sure everything that was there last time he came is still there. He’ll count crumbs. Anything missing will need to be accounted for.

A well-known story from communities I am close to tells of a time when someone did a maryaj lwa in a temple and had brought things from their own table at home to place on the table built for the ceremony. When packing up at the end of the night, someone mistakenly packed the bottle of Kouzen’s liquor that belonged to the temple in the makout of the Kouzen the person married. It went unnoticed until that temple’s fet Kouzen rolled around.

Kouzen arrived and found that his bottle was not in his bag. He asked for it and when it could not be found, sat down on the floor and cried. He refused to let anything else happen until his bottle was located. Some fast thinking and a lot of luck had the person who did the maryaj at the fet and they had a eureka moment and drove home quickly. She lived locally (thank everything) and soon returned to the fet with the bottle. Kouzen had to be consoled and many promises and assurances made because even though the bottle had been returned and it was a genuine error and not a theft, he was so upset that his things had been taken.

He is an expert deal maker that negotiates for his best interests. Something common at most fet Kouzens is that a marketplace will be set up for him. It’s usually a large layout of fruits, vegetables, and maybe some special items for him to look over and offer up for sale. He is very, very shrewd and downright stingy. I’ve seen him refuse to select what he is willing to sell until someone presents him with money, and then he will pick what he thinks is a fair exchange. One evening, I watched someone give him a $20 bill, and he looked for a moment, selected a banan/plantain, and snapped it in half. He gave one half to the person who had paid him $20.

He’ll often walk around holding his chapo/hat and asking for money. Most folks will come prepared with a little cash in their pocket, but pity the person who brings their wallet. Someone had the misfortune of coming to Kouzen’s fet with a significant amount of their rent money in their wallet. Kouzen asked him for money, and when he took out his wallet and opened it, Kouzen reached in and took all the cash. He refused to give it back, and so that person made a nice gift (willing or otherwise) of several hundred dollars.

It’s often said that Kouzen is the one who works and it’s his wife Kouzin who manages the money. Kouzen may want to account for every dollar, but it is Kouzin who keeps track of where it all goes.

Folks always make him out to be greedy, full stop, and he certainly can be, but as Kouzen has known suffering he can also be very generous. I’ve watched him give money to people who were in great need and clearly say that he only needs to be remembered each week and that they don’t need to pay him back. I’ve seen him loan money to people in dire circumstances (but that money better be paid back on the terms he negotiated).

One of the most poignant moments I’ve seen with Kouzen came at his fet when someone who had sacrificed a lot to be there came to talk with him and brought him a little money. They had been struggling with finding work for a little while, and so it was a really hard trip as they did not live locally. Kouzen refused their money and told them to keep it, because he knew they needed it. Some folks thought that was extremely negative coming from Kouzen, but it was a gift. He followed up by giving them a specific lamp recipe to find work, and less than a month later that person had a job.

With all of these very important things on his shoulders and in his makout, you’d think Kouzen would come as something other than a peasant...but he doesn’t. I think that’s really important because it reinforces how close Kouzen and all the lwa are to us; even the ones who are literal royalty.

For me, in addition to all of the above, I also experience Kouzen as a source of a lot of creativity and creative drive. My relationship has developed in such a way that he oversees a lot of my art and art practice. He doesn’t care so much what kind of art or if it even turns out good, but more that I do it and keep my hands moving because that’s good for me. He has definitely been the push to put some paint on paper or beads on fabric when I really don’t want to or don’t have any internal motivation. I will feel him eyeing me and I’ll drag myself to my studio space and do something. Or, if I’m really too busy to make art or there’s some other barrier to me actually sitting down, he’ll push me to resolve it so I have space to get my hands dirty.

In terms of what someone could do for Kouzen without getting into trouble or having him be upset is to do charity in his name. If you can, donate money to a cause that supports providing for folks who are hungry, that supports agriculture that supports self sufficiency in developing countries, or even that aids folks who are homeless or unhoused. If you can donate your time and labor, even better! Kouzen values labor and hard work, and there are plenty of places that need help these days: packing food at food pantries, distributing and delivering meals, volunteering to serve meals in homeless shelters, even volunteering to help vaccine efforts would be looked on favorably by him, as it assures further survival.

I caution folks against preparing food for Kouzen without guidance; even looking at his food in the wrong way or thinking it’s delicious can make him upset and jealous, and he’ll refuse it or spoil it. There’s specific ways to even taste his food for seasoning to make sure it will taste good...don’t risk it!

I hope this is helpful; please let me know if there are questions.

#vodou #haitian vodou #real vodou #fet kouzen #kouzen zaka #azaka mede

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fandom-blackhole · 3 years

Note

Hello, hello it's me, your partner in crime 🐣 who's got a batch of new ideas.

So Din has his australian shepherd Razor Crest,

I feel like Boba is more of a cat person and he's a busy man so he wouldn't have time for walks anyway,

I was initially thinking about either a sphynx cat or a British shorthair, these are really fancy breeds, but

I've got this idea, maine coon! This breed is fancy too!

Big kitty resting on his meaty thigh or in his lap 😳 (okay are we keeping this PG or at some point we are gonna go to town)

Oh and of course we can't obviously name kitty slave (Din points for you for the name of your ship working here)

Okay, back to work. Umm Paz...

While I love idea of him owning any breed, taking home any strays from the back alley of his restaurant, we need to remember that his living space is limited,

It's cheesy but imagine the spaghetti scene from Lady and The Trump recorded irl by Paz and Sent to you,

So a good doggo for Paz? Chihuahua?

Like there is this huge, chunky, ex-army man, which owns the best restaurant in Town, going around, stocking supplies with his little companion tucked under his arm,

Because of his bde he won't be ashamed of carrying his pet in cute little bag!

Razor Crest is such a good girl. She instantly starts loving you and Grogu,

Din is a busy man but still he manages to go jogging with her, his girlie needs a lot of activities since she is a shepherd dog (also Din with nicely toned legs because of the joggs? Ok ok keep this PG! Unless👉🏽👈🏽😳)

Grogu would still occasionally try to eat anything he can find (bad habit from his troubled upbringing but you and Din are working on fixing it though!)

This means Grogu would gladly share a "snack" with his big sister, and vice versa she once brought him her chewy snack,

Let's say you and Din need to visit uncle Paz more often, so Grogu develops proper taste for human, non-object food,

Crest sleeps with you and Din in bed. Neither of you can deny her that privilege,

But when Din finally adopts Grogu and the kiddo moves in, Crest will only sleep with him, guarding the little one all the time,

You and Din have no idea, but once Grogu snatched a small ball from daddy's car,(shiny-metal-ball-thingy from ship but in this case it's not metal and is child and pet friendly?) maybe he got it for kids at school but was forgetting to take it with him, Din big dummy dum,

Boba's lockscreen is a photo of you curled on the bed with the kitty atop of you(he is a big softie for both of you),

He has a huge folder with full on photos hoots of his cat,

But most pictures are blurred and the cat looks into camera like "human, don't bother me, human pet me, human bring treats),

Nonetheless, he treasures them dearly,

Paz' place is pet friendly,

He even has some dog and cat special dishes on the menu,

His doggo is his best culinary critic (after you of course),

Paz is thinking about making some accommodations in the backyard, back at home because he desperately wants to rescue more strays, but he keeps in mind that his farm animals need proper care too,

So he holds an event with local shelter at his place,

You help him organize everything perfectly, there is delicious food and lots of cute pets who are looking for a new home,

After fruitful ending you decide on collaborating witj the shelter as often as possible,

Paz even helped his old army pal adopt a dog because as a, selfcare king, he knows animals can provide great help when someone struggles with ptsd or anxiety.

As always please don't mind my mistakes. I hope you have been doing well, my writing bestie - 🐣

Screaming!!! Okay so sorry for taking so long, Saturdays are my 'busy' days lmao, also this can get as spicy as you want! I'm down for anything......

Please for the love of God yes, Boba totally has a Maine coon aka my favorite cat breed

He loves this cat dearly and you love when it comes and curls up on your lap

As for the name, what about Fennec??? Unless you want to have her be like his right hand in his organization

And Paz totally picks up strays and takes them to the local no kill shelter, he wants to keep them all, but he knows he can't

Paz is constantly sending the reader pictures of dogs and cats and animals doing various things, and recreating movie scenes

As for Paz's dog, a Chihuahua is so fucking perfect!!! Huge man with tiny dog yes please

(Though I may be biased because I own a three legged chihuahua named Guinevere aka Gwen)

Paz totally goes around shopping and everything with his little pupper with him (did you know they have harness for dogs so that you can carry them around like babies....so like my new pp except instead of Grogu its a doggo)

Paz also definitely allows pets into the restaurant and even has a little dog area for the pets to mingle while you eat

He of course is also a 5 star chef when it comes to feeding the animals, making sure to check all of the boxes when it comes to their basic nutritional needs

OMFG BIG BRAIN MOMENT, Paz is a certified rehabilitator for animals, he will take in hurt animals, domestic and wild, and help them until he can release them back into the wild or take them to the shelter/give them to a good home

Din totally goes jogging when he can, and he has a jogging stroller so Grogu can go with him (Grogu is on the smaller side because of his past hardships)

Grogu sooooo gets into Razor's treats (my sister used to walk along our alley behind our house and eat our dogs 😂😂)

Grogu and Razor are also partners in crime, they steal stuff and share the spoils all the time (hence why Din doesn't give Grogu chocolate or anything bad for dogs yet)

Din once found Grogu chewing on a bone he gave Razor and almost had a heart attack

Also the images of Grogu curled around Razor in his tiny space shipped bed, 102038302/10 too fucking cute (Grogu's room is space themed and you totally helped Din set everything up for him)

As for the metal ball, in this AU what if its like a small moon plushy that Din had in his classroom that Grogu keeps managing to sneak home until Din just gives up and let's him keep it? (Thats how the two of you got the idea for a space themed room)

Boba being a total grandpa taking pictures of his kitty to send to you all the time, aka another reason why they are blurry because Boba can't take a good picture to save his life lmao

Paz totally holds drives for the local shelter and events for people to come and meet animals they can adopted

Paz holding nights at the restaurant where all of the money is donated to the shelter and at the cash register he gives out home made dog biscuits as thank yous for coming in and donating

Omg Paz help his buddies with getting animals 😭😭

Also I raise you, Paz owns rabbits as well that he often takes with him when he visits Din's classroom (one of them is Grogu's and he comes over and plays with it and feeds it once a week)

(Send me THOTS!!)

#🐣 anon #modern au #din djarin x reader #din x reader #boba fett x reader #boba x reader #paz vizsla x reader #paz x reader

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maggyme13 · 4 years

Text

Sugar (14/?)

AN: IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAM BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!!

I hope you missed me /this fic!

ATTENTION: as you are aware, I am including Dom/sub dynamic in this fic. I hereby inform you, that I have no direct experience in this (except fiction and research) so if anyone of you DO have experience, please feel free to pm me. I do not want to write this badly or bring a wrong light into this kink/ dynamic (i hope you know what I try to say)

Warnings: accident, talk about BDSM-rules between Dom and Sub

Wordcount: around 2900 ( this is a long one)

Masterlist

Sugar- Masterlist

Part 13

When you awoke the next morning, you were alone in a comfortable bed. No Loki was insight and a feeling of sadness entered your heart.

But not for long, just a minute after you had awoken, the door to the bedroom opened and the man in question entered.

“Good morning, (y/n), did you sleep well?”, he asked with a smile, handing you one of the cups he was carrying. You accepted and a smile graced your lips when the scent of hot cocoa filled your nostrils.

“mhmmmm.”, you hummed and almost snorted into your hot chocolate when your stomach rumbled from smelling the offered energy.

“It is a good thing then, that I asked Barnes and Wilson to get something for breakfast, right? Why don´t you get dressed in something comfortable and I will get the table ready.”, the CEO smiled and you accepted.

Opting for a quick shower and choosing some loose trousers and an over-sized shirt to wear, you finally entered the kitchen.

The table was filled with all different kinds of breakfast-food; from fruits and vegetables to bread and every version of egg (like scrambled) you knew.

“Take a seat. After breakfast, we have to talk about the future. Yesterday evening was an exception to the usual dynamic and rules.”

“I understand. And, thank you for last night.”, a slight blush crept up your face.

“My pleasure.”, he smiled, “Though there is no need to thank me for something I have enjoyed as well.”

Loki took his seat opposite to you and together you relished in the energizing and tasteful breakfast.

.--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--.

“Now,”, Loki stated, ”We have to talk. As I said, I will not force you to tell me what happened yesterday for you to act as you did. But should you ever want to tell me, I will listen and not judge you. Well, for your understanding, there are rules you and I have to follow for this to work. Almost one of the most important things is safe-words; you will choose a word, any word- though maybe not the one for the security-, and you use it when you want to stop with whatever we are doing or if you are not feeling well. I will never hold it against you, should you use it. But we will have to talk about what caused you to use the word.”

“Understood. I will think about one, can you help me with finding one that is not too – how do I say it- not fitting, like can be misleading while-”

“I understand what you mean, if you feel safer, we can use the traffic-light-rule. You will use green, yellow, and red. Green: everything is fine, please continue. Yellow: I am not sure, please slow down. Red: stop, I don´t like this.”

“That sounds good.”

“Alright. Then I am sure I already told you about hard and soft borders. You HAVE to tell me your no-goes; before I don´t know them there will be nothing happen between the two of us in the future. Then I need you to tell me your maybes; things you are not sure about or you want to try. You are the only person that can change the things in each category.”

“I won´t do anything regarding excrement, blood, or with other people. And as long as you use a condom I am trusting you, your judgment and experience.”, you stated with a nod.

“Understood. And I feel honored by your trust.”, the CEO hummed.

“What do you have planned for today?”, he asked and you shrugged.

“I don´t know. I wanted to bake with Ma in preparation for Christmas, but … Well...”, you answered with sadness in your voice.

“You can return to NY if you want. I have some business to attend to around here and would follow on Christmas eve.”, your boss offered, but you declined.

“No. I will stay here and return with you. “

“So, why don´t you go and visit the shelter and see if you can find a pet. Barnes told me you owned one back at your Mother´s.”, he smiled, “I thought about getting one for a bit now. But with how often I am traveling and at the office, I don´t believe I had the time.”

“Really? I can choose whatever I want?”, you asked to be sure.

“Whatever you like. Maybe not a tiger or so, but I don´t think they have these in the local shelter.”, he joked and you smiled.

“Yeah, I don´t think so either.”

“Take my brother with you. He is a huge softy about pets. Maybe you can convince him to get one for himself. His flat needs a bit more life as well.”

“Will do Loki. Thank you.”

Loki was glad he had been able to get the sadness out of your eyes for now, but he still needed to ask Barnes what he knew and believed happened with you. That why he sends his brother with you. That, and he really believed what he had told you.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

One hour later the two of you stepped into the reception area of the Charming Shelter.

“Hello, how can I help you?”, a young woman greeted.

“Hello. I am looking for a pet. Preferably a Dog. Something big if you have. Those fancy handbag- breeds are nothing for me.”, you answered with a smile.

“Do you have any experience with large breeds?”, she asked you to make sure you would not be overwhelmed by one.

“Yes, I had two Pitbulls in the past. I trained them myself. One was a rescue.”

“Well, then you know what you get into with the big ones. Please follow me. You can call me Linda by the way.”

“(y/n), nice to meet you, Linda.”

The halls were echoing from the barking of dozens of dogs of all kinds of breeds and you took the time to look into every cage and at every dog.

“These are Skalli and Hati. They were taken from an owner that was found out to be the leader of a dog-fighting-ring. Luckily these two were saved before he had been able to start. One of our volunteers named them after two mythical hounds.”, Linda introduced two dogs.

One was an all-black Rottweiler, with white socks; the other a pure white Pit with black socks. They were the complete opposite regarding the coloration.

They seemed to be shy, but curious at the same time.

“We want them to give them away to either the same household/family or befriended ones, for they only know each other to be with and don´t want to separate them.”

“Who is who?”, you asked, offering your hand for the two of them to sniff.

“Skalli is the dark one and Hati the white one.”, she explained.

“How are the two of them with men?”

“We know of no incidences, they have never died nor attacked anyone as we know.”

“What do you think Thor?”

“They are cute, but I think my brother will be a bit overwhelmed with two dogs at once. Better start small.”

“You are right. But what about you? I heard you were thinking about a pet as well.”, you smirked.

“Huh?”, he frowned.

“You could take one of these two and I will take the other. Like this, they will be living in the same building and can see each other a lot.”

“And when I go to work?”

“Take it with you. A Rottweiler or Pit is the right dog to accompany a head of security, don´t you think? You could train it for detection or protection.”, you shrugged with a knowing smile.

“Mhm.”

“At least try to pet one. They are really cute.”, you pleaded, with him you yourself scratching the two of them through the door.

And your plan worked, the second the giant began petting Skalli (who turned on his back asking for his belly to be scratched) a smile spread over his face and joy entered his eyes.

Got you.

“And?”, Linda asked with the same knowing look in her eyes.

“You got me (y/n). Looks like my brother finally gets his will. I will take this little rascal home with me.”

“Then I will take Hati.”, you grinned, ”Can we take them with us today? Or do we need to return tomorrow?”

“You have to do fill out a form with personal information and pay an adoption fee. As well as a fee for medical care these two had to receive. Then you can take them with you.”, Linda explained.

“We can do that. How much?”, you hummed, petting your new dog's belly.

“One thousand per dog.”, Linda gulped, “I know that is more than you have to pay elsewhere. But we are a No-kill-shelter and had to increase the fees due to the many animals we currently have and can´t get adopted.”

A plea sang in her voice. A plea to not turn away because of that sum.

“Alright. Do you want it in cash, check, or per bank transfer?”, Thor answered this time.

“Whatever is best for you.”, the shelter employee stated a bit shocked and relieved.

“I am going to call Heimdall Thor.”, you said, already dialing the number.

“Hello, Ms (y/n).”

“Hello Heimdall, I need you to transfer money to the Charming Animal Shelter for me.”

“Of course. How much do you need me to transfer for the dog? And does Mr Thor pay for himself or will he declare it as work-expenses?”, the secretary stated and you shook your head.

I give up on trying to find out how he does that.

“I will ask him. Thor, Heimdal wants to know if you want to pay yourself or have the company pay for him as work-expenses.”

“I will pay for him.”, he answered.

“I heard what he said. How much do you want me to transfer Ms (y/n).”

“Three thousand. One for the dog and two as a donation. Can you start a five hundred dollar repeating donation for this shelter each month for me?”, you asked. No-kill-shelters had become rare, and this seemed genuinely interested in the well-being of the animals.

“Money is transferred. And I was free to add some more to the donation from our firm's donation- account.”, the male secretary added.

“How much?”, you wondered really interested.

“Enough for them to operate for a few months. If you now excuse me. I am receiving an important call on the other line.”

“Of course. Have a nice day Heimdal.”, and with that, you ended the call, “Money should be there tomorrow at the latest. Now, do we have to get them special food because of allergies or so? What did you feet them.”

“E-ehm, they don´t have any allergies. And thank you so much, we really appreciate any money we can get.”, tears threatened to fall down the woman´s face.

“It´s my pleasure. There are far too few no-kill-shelters. And you seem genuinely interested in these animals. Now let's do all the other stuff we have to do. We need to get stuff for them too.”

“Of course. Please follow me into the office, I will get Hati and Skalli ready while you fill out the forms.”

“Please lead the way.”

-..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..-

One and a half hours later, Thor, Skalli, Hati and you entered Charming´s only pet store and left it another two hours with everything the two dogs would need for the next days.

Both of you were around five hundred dollars lighter and Skalli and Hati wearing matching harnesses and collars and smiles on their face.

“What do you think. We can visit the park before returning to the house. I think it will do them good.”, you hummed and so the four of you did.

It was a small but beautiful park and you had enjoyed the two previous visits with your Mother.

Hati and Skalli were behaving well and listened to the commands of sit, down, and no without a problem.

You were so engrossed with your new dog, that you did not notice your brother with two other bikers standing a few hundred meters away, watching you interested with a slightly solemn look in his eye. Well, it might be in both of his eyes, but the second one was swollen almost shut by a bruise one of his own brothers had given him.

“Yes brother?”, Thor answered his phone, catching your attention, “yes we were.- Yes I have found one as well.- We are at the park with them.- Yes.- Yes- Alright. See you in a bit.”

“Do we have to return?”, you asked having listened to his side of the conversation.

“No. My brother and the other two are coming over here to meet them and as I know my brother to get some ice-cream at the parlor over there. That man is a sucker for good ice-cream.”, the big man answered, kneeling to be closer to his new companion, “Yes he is, Skalli. You are so well-behaving. Such a good boy.”

Laughing you followed his lead and were bathed in puppy-kisses by Hati, “Aweee, thank you Hati. Thank you so much.”

Loki, Bucky, and Sam joined you ten minutes later, the first one placing a soft kiss on the edge of your mouth.

Hati sitting next to you watching the new man with interest.

“And you must be our new room-mate. I think we will get along well, what do you think?”, Loki asked the puppy, offering his hand for him to scent. Seconds later it was licked with vigor and Hati´s tail was wagging like crazy.

“He likes you. His name is Hati. He and Skalli are rescues and were only given away to the same or befriended households.”, you explained.

“Hello Hati. I am Loki.”

* wuff* * whimper* * bark*

Hati waited for you to allow him to greet the man properly, and Skalli wanted to join as well.

Loki and the other two were playing with the dogs a few meters away from you to introduce themselves when a movement in the corner of your eye caught your attention. A car was barreling towards you. A car that somehow made no noise and was driving so fast you were barely able to jump out of the way or shout.

Three seconds after you noticed the car, you were hit by the side of the fender sending you flying through the air and hitting the ground hard.

Pain burnt up your thigh and hip as well as pulsing in your head. Nausea hit you not long after and there was only one thing you new: at least you were alive, but how long would it stay that way.

Through the headache and your own noises of pain, you heard voices calling out for you.

“(y/n)! (y/n)! Do you hear me? Tell me where the most pain is.”, you only knew it was one of the men you had been with, but not who.

“Thor is calling an ambulance and taking care of the dogs. So hold tight okay? Everything will be alright.”, you believed it was Bucky.

“It hurts. My head-”, you groaned only to dry heave of pain.

“Everything will be fine, okay? Can you open the eyes for me? Please (y/n), let me see your beautiful eyes.”, now you new it was Loki.

“Loki?”, you groaned.

“I am here.”

“I am getting tired, I don´t want to sleep-”, you mumbled, feeling how your body started to shut down.

“Look at me. (y/n), hear me? Look at me, or at least talk with me. The ambulance just arrived. You will be fine. I will not allow anything to happen to you. Remember?”

“Come with me … Hospital?”, you coughed, not wanting to be alone.

“If the medics allow it. But I will be at the hospital waiting for you and not leaving it without you. I promise.”

“Thank you.”

There was movement around you, people you did not know joined Loki and you, two of them starting to touch your body.

“Miss? This is Rodger. I am a paramedic and here to help you, okay? Jason and Sasha will be checking you for your injuries and preparing to get you to St. Thomas while I am going to ask you a few questions.”

“Yeah.”, you hummed in understanding.

“The pain you are feeling, how bad is it when 10 is the worst pain you ever felt and 1 is nothing.”

“Eight.”, you groaned.

“Alright. I will give you something for it as soon as I am finished with my questions. Where does it hurt?”

“Knees, Thighs, Hip. Head. I am nauseous.”, you groaned between breaths.

“Any known allergies against medications? Or any known in your family?”

“No.”

“Alright. I will give you something against the pain now. It will probably make you tired. It is alright. Jason will place the EKG on you for us to monitor your heart-rate so we will know how you are doing. So, do not worry if you do become very tired. The boys and I will take care of you and get you to the hospital.”

“Thank you.”, you breathed.

“No worries. I will give you something against the pain now.”, not long after he said that, the pain started to subdue and your eyelids slipped close.

Soon you had slipped into a dreamless slumber.

Part 15

AN 2.0. So, what do you think will happen next? Who hit her with the car?

REBLOGS and comments are appreciated:)

Thank you very much.

~MaggY

Taglists:

Permanent:

@jadepc@pacifyhxlsey @thankyoukarenclifford

@thankyouforanonymity @punkrockhufflefluff

@scarletraine @buckycaptspideypool @markusstraya @graveyard-groupie @markusstrayya @randomgirlkensy @the-soulofdevil

@marshyrebelcloud

MCU:

@yknott81 @banner-and-bucky-are-life @forext20 @dyanlzbb @so-finster-die-nacht @emmii4 @bitchwhytho @ladyofmyst @jilldsumner @momc95 @appreciating-fanfics

Sugar:

@bits-and-bobs-and-kawaii-stuffs @mimmie666 @fullranchwolfoperator

@cluelessnitwhit @youknowitsclouds @his-paradox @purplerainharry

@spootgaai2000 @iamsuperjenna @nikkipea @alexakeyloveloki @timelordy-fangirl2 @girrafeeeeeee @emilyjane44x @randomgirlwholoveskpop @deathkat657

I couldnt tag a few of you… sorry.

Want to get tagged as well? Comment, Reblog or send an ask to let me know.

#Sugardaddy Loki #sugardaddy loki x reader #Loki x reader #mcu #Reader insert #Marvel AU #Loki AU #car accident #sons of anarchy

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grandfloridians · 4 years

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hi, its your local black and extremely tired lesbian, and basically my family is gonna be out on the streets if we don't find money for a motel room or something by this evening. we're homeless and totally dependent on pantries and such for food and toiletries. there is a little girl with us and she needs to have somewhere to sleep at night. housing is our biggest expense and also the one we often can't afford to pay for. shelters are either full from christmas or won't take us. (cause salvation army is one of the only shelters here and ofc they hate gays I mean seriously thought me and my mom were a lesbian couple w our daughter)

$30 will get us a room for the night. $120 will last us for a week.

if you can reblog/donate, please do so, i'd appreciate it a ton!

paypal.me/amberinas

cashapp: $amberinas

#signal boost

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batwynn · 4 years

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Quarantine Positive Mental and Physical Health Checklist:

Note: Not everything works for everyone and not every service is provided by your local services, so please always take advice with consideration of that fact. ALWAYS check with your doctor or informed professionals about anything that requires medical treatment, etc.

(American) National Suicide Hotline:

1-800-273-8255

List of international hotlines:

http://www.suicide.org/international-suicide-hotlines.html

(WARNING! Some of these are no longer operational. Double check in your country for a line if one of these does not work.)

*IF YOU HAVE/THINK YOU HAVE COVID19 AND ARE SELF ISOLATING TO HEAL AT HOME:

*If you have asthma or any other chronic lung conditions, heart conditions, or kidney conditions please be sure to call either your doctor’s office or the ER if you are experiencing any symptoms of the virus. (Fever, dry cough, trouble breathing.)

*If you are trans and bind or bind your chest for any reason, DO NOT WEAR A BINDER IF YOU HAVE ANY OF THE SYMPTOMS! This virus attacks the lungs! You could cause serious complications and end up hospitalized or worse. I understand the need to bind, and I understand the dangers of not binding. But please, please DO NOT BIND when sick or symptomatic.

WHO does not recommend people use Ibuprofen, but to use Tylenol for fever and pain reduction.

Please remember to keep up your intake of fluids!

Checklist:

Have you taken your medication(s)? — with the stress levels at high right now, now might be a good time to make up a schedule somewhere for your daily medications and their times. If you need reminders, you can use your phone’s calendar function (with an alert set at ‘at the time of the event’) or the ‘reminders�� application (iPhone). If you can’t use these, or don’t have them on your phone, consider asking someone who is available and able to send you a message/text/call to alert you to take your medication(s). If you don’t have a phone, try to place the schedule somewhere you will see it often during the day. (Possibly on the fridge, by your desk, by your bed, etc.) Multiple copies of the schedule might also help.

Have you been drinking your water, or other fluids? —Hydration is important whether you’re sick or not! If you have trouble drinking water, good alternatives would be coconut water or low-added-sugar juices. (100% juices are best) Sipping soups like broth can also hydrate, but be careful of salt content! Many fruits and veggies also have a high water content. Try: celery, cauliflower, spinach, broccoli, dark leafy greens, tomatoes, watermelon, cantaloupe, strawberries, kiwis or oranges.

Have you spoken today? If not, try to read a few lines of something out loud just to stretch out your jaw and vocal cords a bit. A lot of tension can be held in your jaw, and it’s good to loosen it up a bit every so often.

Have you had enough sleep? Your mood/health can be seriously affected by lack of sleep. If you’re having trouble going to sleep: Consider reading something familiar and comforting before bed, or consider putting your phone away an hour or so before going to bed, and try to keep it just out of reach. With everything that’s going on, the temptation to check the news all the time or scroll for hours to try to de-stress is understandable. Try to limit yourself to certain times of the day, and avoid doing it late into the night. *There are medications of all sorts from over the counter Melatonin to prescription medications that can help with falling asleep, staying asleep, nightmares, and more. Please reach out to your doctor/therapist/psychologist if you think you need help with sleep.

Dealing with chronic illnesses or pain and aren’t allowed to go in for your usual appointments or PT(Physical therapy)? Check in with your doctor/specialist’s office by phone and see if they are allowing phone/video appointments. A lot of offices are doing this, and some are willing to refill medications/start new medications via these appointments. MOST Pharmacies will now deliver your medications to your home, some even for free. If you don’t already have a print out of home PT exercises for your specific pain areas, call and ask for them to either mail one to you, or direct you to one online. It’s important to keep up with your PT!

If you’re low on food due to money/stores being empty and you need to keep your blood sugar up, you can try to even things out with Glucose Tablets. These are not a replacement for a meal, though! Please check all your local food pantries, churches, and even school food programs.

A lot of schools are offering a meals-on-wheels-like program for people with children in need.

And if you’re elderly, Meals on Wheels is working extra hard to make sure everyone has food, including doubling up the amount you get per week for a lot of people.* (Please also consider donating to them if you have the funds!)

If none of these options work, please call 211 to speak to a member of the United Way call center who can help connect you to resources in your area. (This is not just for food.)

Stuck inside with family/roommates/partners and need some alone time?—If you have a private room, stick a sign on the door requesting to be left alone. Adding a period of time can help give them an idea of how long before knocking. For example: ‘Leave me alone for 40 minutes unless emergency please!’ If you do not have a room to yourself, if possible make up a plan with your roommates/family/partners to designate alone time in a room. Each member of the household can have 1 hour time alone in the bedroom/living room/bathroom/etc. Try to keep communication open, even when you really need to be alone. Make sure the others know you need this time, and that it might be good for them, too.

Did you eat today?

• If you feel like you’re dissociating, try counting your fingers or looking at your finger whorls. Remember that they are unique to you, that you are real. If this doesn’t work, you can also try counting things of one shape or color in the room to try to ground yourself in your surroundings. Fidgeting or chewing gum can also help stimulate your senses, which can help keep you grounded.

• If you are having a panic attack:

1: Ground yourself to reality with something familiar like a keychain or even pictures of something on your phone. [Cats and dogs are good.] Also, do not trust everything your mind/body is telling you right now. Thoughts like, ‘i’m going to die’, ‘everyone is leaving me’, ‘everyone hates me’, are a part of the panic, try not to linger on them, because they will only make it worse. A good trick is to try to replace these thoughts with a mental image of something either calming or silly. Like a Sloth, or a unicorn fighting a giant jelly bean.

2: Find a space that feels the safest for you, and stay there.

3: Take slow, deep breaths. After breathing in for four seconds, hold it for a few seconds before breathing out for another four seconds.

4: Stimulate your mind with something simple, and not stressful. Tap your fingers, re-read nice messages from someone, play a game one your phone that doesn’t require any thought or is timed.

5: You are doing a really good job. You don’t have to feel embarrassed. You are not alone. You are strong, and awesome.

Try not to feel guilty for feeling overwhelmed, upset, angry, sad, etc. This is a really rough time, and you’re allowed to feel how you feel.

Did you brush your teeth today?

Don’t be afraid, you’re not alone!-Reach out to someone you know, if you need it. If you can’t find someone, feel free to reach out to me and we can talk, or I can direct you to someone else who might be more equipped to help.

Have you hurt yourself recently? Please take the time to clean and cover it. I know it’s hard to take care of yourself right now, but it’s not good to get an infection especially with the hospitals and doctors possibly turning you away due to the influx if COVID19 patients.

It’s okay to take time to get going, and no, you do NOT have to write that book right now.

You don’t have to talk about it if you aren’t ready. Being stuck inside with people does not mean they get to pressure you to open up about anything you’re not ready to open up about.

You CAN talk about it, if you’re ready. Your problems are real, even if they might seem small or insignificant in the face of huge, global issues.

If you are stuck in a home with an abusive person and cannot get out because of the current situation, please remember there are many applications, chats, text lines, phone lines available depending on where you are and who you are.

Have you stretched in the past hour?

Here are some online/phone options for AA/substance abuse groups.

Pet a cute animal today! If you can’t, there’s loads of livestreams from all over the world with cute animals on display!

10 relaxing online games

Try making one of these comfort foods:

American Comfort Foods

Canadian Comfort Foods Indian Comfort Foods Japanese Comfort Foods German Comfort Foods Mexican Comfort Foods [sorry, a lot of Tex-mex in there.]

Remember: You matter. Your feelings matter. Your life matters.

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chernobog13 · 4 years

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AND NOW, A WORD FROM OUR SPONSOR...

My apologies to those 400 or so who follow me (those who are not pornbots at least) for not posting or re-blogging anything here for awhile.

I work in a hospital in the 2nd largest city in The United States. And while I am not one of our heroic healthcare providers - doctors, nurses, clinical partners - my position has been deemed essential enough that I am one of the fortunate people who is still working during the COVID-19 outbreak. That also means that for the last month I have been on a 60+ hour-a-week schedule, which basically means all I have been doing is working, then going home, isolating myself from my family, and trying to get enough sleep to continue functioning. Today is the first day I’ve had off in a week, and I just woke up from spending the last 16 hours sleeping.

I’m not writing this to elicit pity for me, or to brag that I am still receiving a paycheck when so many people are out of work. Just trying to explain why I’ve been so inactive here on Tumblr lately (and likely will be, except for the occasional day off, for the foreseeable future).

For those of you who can, please support your local hospital in any manner possible. Donate food, either that you make yourself or help out a local restaurant at the same time and pay for meals to be delivered. Donate blood, which is so desperately needed. Donate money if you can, so the hospital can purchase the equipment and supplies it needs for its patients and staff. But please, don’t bring in boxes of masks or other medical gear you may have in surplus. It’s a beautiful gesture, and more appreciated than you can possibly imagine, but due to contamination concerns hospitals cannot accept or use supplies that are not factory sealed. I have had to turn away several people in the last few weeks who have, despite the risk to themselves, come to my hospital with excess of boxes of gloves or masks that they’ve had at home, only to have to politely turn them away. And it broke my heart every time. If you have that stuff, distribute it amongst your family, friends, or neighbors who may need them.

Medical staff all over the country and the world are working their asses off at great expense to their safety, and they need all the help they can get. And they are doing it while pushing past the fear they have for their own lives and those of their families. And believe me, it is scary working in a hospital right now. The people I work with every day are the bravest people I have ever had the privilege of knowing, and it humbles me to be in their company.

I know there is a far right/conspiracy nut movement lately that is trying to paint the coronavirus/COVID-19 pandemic as a hoax just to make Trump look bad (which is absurd,; he’s does that perfectly well all by himself). They have even started a movement where people to go into emergency rooms and film inside to show how empty they are. We had to chase three different groups of those idiots (which is too tame a word) out of our ER yesterday alone.

Don’t buy into their BS! Yes, our ER waiting room is empty most of the time lately. That’s because we are not allowing anyone other than patients in right now - no visitors, no friends or companions, no one else at all (except parents of minors or other extreme exceptions). Patients that come in are brought back into the treatment area ASAP, so they are not hanging around the waiting area to be seen. But the biggest reason the ERs look empty these days: most people are scared and staying home unless they have an actual emergency!!!! Believe it or not, most people (during normal times) in an ER, to the tune of 60-75%, are not emergency cases and would be better served at an urgent care facility or their regular doctor’s office.

Sorry, I’m rambling, but it pains me to see this idiocy inspired by the cult of Trump when people are suffering and dying by the thousands.

So, to conclude: help your local hospital and healthcare providers as best you can, if you can, during this crisis. Even a “thank you” card works wonders beyond imagination

Stay home and stay safe. Check in on family, friends, and neighbors. TAKE CARE OF EACH OTHER!

Stay positive. Stop watching all the relentless COVID-19 coverage on the news. If you have to watch anything related to it, watch Gov. Andrew Cuomo’s daily briefings, then turn on a movie, your favorite TV show, or read a book!

Stay strong. I know it’s tough, but there is a light at the end of this tunnel, and we will get through this if we all work together and help each other out. This is our time to be the best that humanity has to offer, and by working together we can overcome this crisis. Let history show that we are the new “greatest generation.”

As for me, I’m going back to bed.

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jayeray · 4 years

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Weathering the Storm

Hey all. I don’t know how many people this will actually reach, but I thought I would take the time to put this out there. I’m pretty private about my personal life, but I feel this needs to be shared. For those of you who don’t want to read a long post or are simply interested I feel like this short video might help add some weight to what I’m saying...

youtube

I live in Iowa, I have family and friends in Iowa. I grew up here, and while I’m no longer in Cedar Rapids, it is where I went to High School.

I was in Cedar Rapids for the storm, and was in a restaurant with my sister and Aunt when it blew through. My uncle who’s lived in Iowa all his 65+ years of life has said he’s never seen anything like it. People are saying it was like a forty mile wide tornado that traveled across almost all of Iowa and parts of Wisconsin and Illinois.

Being in that storm was one of the most eerie experiences of my life. The cracking of trees, hundreds of years old as they snapped under the wind was like gunshots. The rain didn’t come down sideways, it came in spirals, the wind blowing so hard it was almost shocking that it made it to the ground at all. The windows let us see metal benches and bike racks literally flying past down the street along with all sorts of other debris.

I went to lunch with them at 11:30, the storm struck at about noon. We didn’t dare venture out until about 1:15 and it was still pouring rain even though the winds had died down. Driving out of there was a nightmare. Water was pooling so high in places it was up past our ankles in the streets. Tree branches, the kind you don’t dare drive over, bricks, shingles, and other debris littered the street, you couldn’t drive without swerving around them or navigating through back routes and alleys going in circles trying to find a safe way out.

Normally it takes about fifteen minutes to get from the restaurant we were at to my Aunt’s home. It took us well over two hours. We drove under power lines low enough they nearly scraped the roof of her car, we drove over so many downed power lines I lost count praying none of them were live. We smelled fire, several places burned down during the storm, struck by lightning and unable to be rescued by the fire department who couldn’t reach them through the storm. We smelled gas, gas stations with their pumps all sideways, knocked to the ground and scattered, and leaking where a single spark could cause and explosion.

There was glass everywhere, trees blocking whole roads, impaled or crushing cars and countless semis on their sides, knocked over by the winds. Even train cars didn’t escape the damage. The sounds of emergency vehicles was almost constant as police, ambulances and fire trucks scrambled to reach people in trouble.

Luckily we made it home safe, but there were several close calls and the aftermath hasn’t been pretty. My Aunt and my sister’s homes are both safe, but two of my cousins have trees in their living rooms. One has had her garage completely flattened, and her neighbor is already trying to commit fraud by blaming my cousin for the tree falling, claiming it was dead and a danger before the storm and insisting she pay for the damage to the neighbor’s house.

I have only just gotten back on the internet. We’ve been without power since Monday. In the mean time it’s been hot. We couldn’t cook food. Everything in the refrigerator and freezer has spoiled. Clean-up for my cousins in particular has been a hassle because how do you clear enormous hundred year old trees without a chain saw which needs electricity. There was no hot water, which meant no showers for anyone after sweating all day cleaning up either.

There was no cell service, and no internet. We were practically blind to the world, relying on our neighbors for help and any sort of news that was passed on by word of mouth. The only way to charge electronics was to use your car, but getting gas was near impossible, not only because gas stations were destroyed, but because even those that weren’t require electricity to run your card. Which means you had do drive quite a ways to reach somewhere with power, and pray your car didn’t run out on the way.

It’s been a harrowing experience. One I wouldn’t wish on anyone, but there have been bright spots. Amazing neighbors who found and brought ice and coolers to help store refrigerated/frozen food. Neighborhood cookouts, where the neighbors volunteered their grills and fire pits for anyone who needed them to cook with. Restaurants and businesses offering free food and charging stations to those without power. Electric companies and trucks coming from all over to help try to bring power back. It’s been a crazy ride and its still on going.

That is part of why I’m posting. I get to leave. I get to go to my home, which is safe, undamaged and has power, but the people here do not. I’m not sure what can be done. The clean-up is going to take a long time, people have lost their homes, businesses, work places, and vehicles. It’s going to take a lot of work, and quite frankly a lot of money to put everything to rights, and the worst part is I don’t even know if/where people can donate. The only places I can think of are food banks and that’s impossible if you’re not local.

However I am hoping to spread the word, to reach people, even if its just a few, who might be more educated than me as to what can be done, and to share my story and vent some of my feelings. I hope you’re all safe wherever you may be! Please send thoughts and prayers to Iowa!

#iowa #derecho #storm damage #please help #venting #my story

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a-method-in-it · 4 years

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I Say This With Love

It’s April 10, 2020, and I really do honestly and truly say this with love. Because I do genuinely love all of the young radical people on here. Depending who you talk to, I also am kind of a young radical, though by tumblr standards I am An Old. And you guys are great, you really are. But I need you to hear this.

You need to stop pinning your hopes on Bernie Sanders.

I like Bernie a lot. He was not my first choice in this primary, but he was absolutely my second. The fact that he lost to my second least favorite of the legitimate candidates (Marianne Williamson and Andrew Yang are not legit, don’t @ me) makes me really tired. I’m old enough to remember the time the Democrats nominated John Kerry to take on Dubya and look where that got us. I was looking forward to voting for Bernie in the primary -- and in fact I still will to help him shore up his influence going into the DNC -- and the last few days were not fun for me either.

But it’s time to face facts. And the facts are these:

First, Bernie has dropped out. In this context, “suspending his campaign” means he is dropping out. It’s a way of dropping out that allows his name to remain on the ballot in whatever states already have his name on the ballot, but it means he’s dropped out. You can and should still vote for him to give him more political influence before the convention, but he will not be the nominee. That is the reality. It sucks. It is still the reality.

Second, harm reduction matters. That thing I mentioned above, about Kerry going up against Bush 43? Yeah, for those of you too young to remember 2004, Kerry couldn’t turn out the base and he lost. And do you know what happened in the next four years? Here is a short list:

Bush tried to privatize Social Security. Actually genuinely had a bill introduced into Congress that he planned on signing.

He completely bungled the response to Hurricane Katrina, screwing over thousands of people, most of them black and low income

We added 21,000 troops in Iraq

Private contractors working for escaped hell demon Eric Prince, who Bush paid $1 billion in military contractor money to run around in Iraq playing soldier, opened fire into a crowd of Iraqi civilians in Baghdad, killing 17 innocent people

John Roberts was nominated and confirmed as Chief Justice of the U.S. Supreme Court, where his ass still sits, fucking us over to this day.

Bush vetoed funding for stem cell research.

He continued to deny that global warming was real, running out four more years on humanity’s clock.

And -- oh yeah! -- the whole goddamn economy crashed.

I really don’t care how little you like Joe Biden. I also do not like Joe Biden. But I promise you, however frustrating it would be to see him elected president, that is nothing -- nothing -- to what it would be like to go through four more years of Donald Trump. And if you disagree, please read any newspaper.

Third, and this is the big one:

You need to stop pinning your hopes on a single candidate. That’s not how change happens. That’s not how movements happen.

Politicians do not save us. Not even politicians we like. Not even politicians we agree with. Not even politicians who inspire us and care about us and try to do right by us. No, that’s not how it works. We save ourselves.

So if you’re pissed off right now, then go unionize your workplace (advice for that here); join your local DSA; donate to Black Lives Matter or Planned Parenthood or the ACLU or Greenpeace or NARF or any one of the dozens of other organizations fighting the good fight; volunteer at an abortion clinic or homeless shelter or domestic violence shelter or food bank or conservation group or with anyone else doing good work in your neighborhood; sew face masks for your neighbors; join -- or start! -- a community garden or urban agriculture group; volunteer for a state or local politician with a good platform that you do believe in; sign up to register voters in your area; start calling your congress people every day; and for gods’ sake, vote blue in November.

To everyone who skimmed over that list because you think I’m full of shit and it was too long -- go back and read it because the fact that it’s long is my whole fucking point.

We need to save ourselves. And that starts with -- big sigh -- electing Joseph Robinette Biden (gods even his name is stupid).

It just doesn’t end there. Honestly, if you want a movement to reshape the country, trying to just elect a person as president is objectively the least effective way to go about that. It’s trying to cut to the end. It’s building your roof before you’ve laid your foundation. It’s backwards.

So pick yourselves up, brush off the dirt, patch up your bruises, and go build some foundations.

I meant it when I said I love you guys. I believe you can do this, that we can do this. Please don’t prove me wrong.

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franstastic-ideas · 5 years

Text

Bitty Blues

Bittybones AU, Underswap Frisk and Chara - Fresh out of college, Chara drags Frisk to an adoption center in hopes that her lonely friend will take to one of the bitties there, but only after Chara promises to buy Frisk lunch for her troubles. After looking through the center for a while, they encounter a Blueberry, a rescue with abandonment issues that develops a near instant attraction to Frisk. His HP is unusually and dreadfully low for a Blueberry, so much so that the staff worry that one more heartbreak may reduce him to dust.

Word Count: 19,834

Warnings: This story does feature a rescue bitty, so there are some narrative elements that may be upsetting to readers. Another rescue bitty has a malnourished and mangled appearance and is described as such.

It seemed like everyone around her had become enraptured with bitties. No matter where she looked, she would see happy people with happy little monsters riding on someone's shoulders, resting in the pockets of shirts, or peeking curiously out of an open bag. They were everywhere.

And if Frisk were to be honest, she didn't get it.

Frisk didn't resent the little creatures, not at all. But she didn't understand the appeal, either. Squealing over the tiny clothes they wore, watching them nibble on the bite-sized food they ate, the social media accounts one would come across at each corner of the internet filled to the brim with snapshots capturing the bitty's every action… it was all lost on her. And the disappointed or sympathetic looks she more than often received when she didn't begin cooing whenever one was shoved in her face was something Frisk couldn't totally wrap her head around either.

Frisk didn't hate bitties. She didn't even remotely dislike them.

She just didn't want one.

A loner is what most called her. She was always alone, nose shoved in a book or looking at a screen instead of talking to the people around her. Soft-spoken and only speaks when spoken to, that was Frisk. These traits made people believe she was either shy or had an attitude that needed fixing, but the truth was, interacting with others was just too much for her to deal with.

Frisk liked being alone. Why was that so difficult to comprehend?

She doesn't ever wonder what having lots of friends is like… not at all. She pitied these lonely humans with their bitties, if she felt anything towards them at all.

~~~~~~~~~~

Frisk had just finished up her final class of her last semester of college; she was free from the institution of education and walking out of the building with a bachelor's. From this point onward, she could no longer be called a 'college kid' and was officially considered a responsible adult ready to join the workforce – fun.

Interrupting this thought was the abrupt and blurred image of a shoulder bag whizzing past her vision, knocking the book she was reading out of her hands as the heavy bag fell into her lap, and a wild red-headed girl wearing a green striped sweater scrambling for the spot next to her on the bench she was sitting on.

Chara.

"Frisk, what is UP my depressed homeslice?!" She hollered, throwing an arm around Frisk's waist and yanking her to her side.

Though Frisk found it difficult to believe herself at times, this woman was one of the few constants in her life. She was three years younger, but she was taller and stronger than her. Frisk has known her for a long time now, since childhood even. Could she call her a friend? Perhaps. She considered herself Frisk's friend, and she wasn't shy about telling anyone either. Depending on the day and her current moodset, sometimes this sentiment was shared.

Truthfully, she was more like a sister to Frisk. A sister she never really asked for, but appreciated nonetheless. And that was what she called Frisk – her sister. Whenever Chara introduced her to some decidedly uninterested third party, she always referred to her as her friend and then sister, switching from one to the other, before ultimately settling for the tacked on term 'sister-friend'.

"Waiting for the bus." Frisk replied blandly, already far too accustomed to her odd greetings by now. She shuffled uncomfortably, gesturing to the bag that was now in her lap. "Chara, what is in this? It has to weigh twenty pounds, minimum."

"Oh, that. Yeah." She nodded sagely, lifting it from her lap as if it were full of feathers instead of whatever was actually in there. "It's my bitty bag. I went shopping for more supplies earlier, so it's a little heavier than it usually is."

"And knowing this, you decided to dump it on me?" She inquired, already knowing the answer as she bent over to retrieve her fallen book.

"Pretty much, yeah." Chara grinned, not the least bit sorry for knocking the wind out of her with it.

Frisk then took a glance at her shoulder; it was missing a certain pocket-sized skeleton monster that was always perched there. That bitty was almost all she ever talked about these days, ever since she adopted him last September on her birthday. Taking the bothersome bitty home was how she chose to celebrate her day of birth, the best present she ever received from herself is what she called him.

She had become a bitty enthusiast practically since the moment she first learned of their existence, spending most of her spare time volunteering at the local center that housed the creatures, and became even more immersed after the official announcement came that the miniature monsters were to become adoptable to anyone who could provide them a loving home, and Chara had a lot of love to give.

So it really astonished Frisk when she stepped out of the center in possession of a bitty who couldn't have been more contrasting to her personality. Frisk was unabashedly uneducated when it came to matters concerning bitties, but she was convinced beyond a shadow of a doubt that she had selected the meanest, most ornery one in existence with one of the illest tempers she had ever seen out of anyone; man or monster. He was loud, commandeering, and had a jealousy streak that stretched a mile wide.

Noticing her lingering gaze, Chara then supplied the other girl with an answer to her unspoken question. "You're wondering where Bossanova is? He's in trouble. He bit a guy yesterday while we were out on a walk, so he's earned himself a nice long time out at home so he can think about what he did."

She wanted to tell Chara that probably wasn't the wisest decision she could have made. Frisk wouldn't be surprised at all if she came home to find her room in shambles from one of that bitty's tantrums.

Frisk definitely didn't get the bitty craze, and Chara's own affections for Bossanova might have cemented her already developed opinions on the phenomenon even further. What on Earth did she see as endearing in a creature about the size of a soda bottle that would bite any man that got within ten feet of her?

"Sooooo…" She began, leaning her head on top of Frisk's, the scattered and plentiful faux golden flower ornaments fastened in her hair dangling in front of her friend's face and brushing up against her nose. "You're all done with college now, right? You know what that means? We should celebrate!"

Oh no. With the word 'celebrate', Frisk already knew where this was going. That's why her bag was so heavy! She wasn't buying supplies for herself, no, as if she would ever let Bossanova run that low on bittycare products. This woman was absolutely determined to set her up with some manner of bitty by the day's end, that was her plan from the very beginning!

"No." Frisk answered before she could go any further with her idea.

"You didn't even let me finish!" She whined loudly.

"Because I already know what you're about to suggest and the answer is 'no', we've been through this. I don't want a pet bitty."

"Bitties aren't pets, Frisk. They're sapient beings with their own individual thoughts and personalities. Pets also can't have verbal conversations with their owners, either. …Unless it's a parrot, but still, you know what I mean."

"They're kept behind glass pens and they still cost money, I know that much."

"I know the whole keeping them in pens thing makes them sound animalistic, but they're not. They're nice and clean, and they don't look like pens at all really, at least not the kind that you would see in an actual pet store. And the reason why they cost money is mostly just a system instated to ensure that the chosen bitty will go to a home that can financially provide for them, and the centers can't run themselves on just donations, Frisk. They're. Not. Pets."

"Even so, I still don't want one."

"Come ON, Frisk! Just give the idea some thought instead of shooting it down like a fully loaded fighter jet every time!" Chara booped her nose, then moved to squish her cheek against Frisk's. Frisk was beginning to feel uncomfortable. "You always look so sad and lonely. Even when we were kids, you had that kind of gray funk around you. Don't even try to deny it, you know it's true."

Chara pressed her index finger against Frisk's lips when she opened her mouth to protest further. If Frisk had less dignity, she would have considered biting her. That's what Chara would probably do if it was her finger, and she should be used to it with all the time she spends around Bossanova anyway.

Instead of bringing herself down to the level of Chara or a rabid bitty, Frisk instead grabbed her hand, not forcefully though, and slowly pushed it back towards her.

"Please stop, this is getting weird."

"It got your attention, though. Didn't it?" She smiled at her with false innocence. "Please, Frisk? I know you think I'm being pushy, but I really am just thinking of your best interests. You've always had such a hard time talking to people, but monsters, they're different, I'm telling you. It's hard to explain, but it's like… they see the real you in a way that most humans just can't and won't make the effort to try to do. The people we come across think you're all sour and prickly and, well, a wet blanket. And so do I, sometimes."

"Gee, thanks."

"And you are all of those things, but only on the outside." Chara continued, completely ignoring her sarcastic remark. "The real Frisk is a soft squishy marshmallow that wears a full-body suit made of cactus so all the meanness in the world doesn't wear her down. Any time somebody gets too close, they get full of needles. Except for me, of course! I've known you long enough to see through all your self-defense mechanisms that are really more self-destructive mechanisms at this point."

"…Chara, what exactly is your point?" Frisk asked after a beat, not willing to admit that a lot of what she just said, while incredibly bizarre, was also terribly accurate.

"My point is that I've kept you all to myself for all these years, but now the time's come to share you with someone that'll actually appreciate you for who you are." She declared with confidence as she puffed out her chest, one hand on her hip and the other reaching up to pat Frisk on the head.

"And this someone… is a bitty."

It wasn't a question.

"Yup!" Chara bobbed her head.

"No."

"Yes!" She argued, standing up to tower over Frisk while pointing a finger at her nose, pressing and poking it. "Listen, I get that you think Bossanova is a handful, and he is. He's a little monster in every literal and figurative sense imaginable, but there are a lots of different kinds and classifications of bitties! There's Sansies and Ruses and Blueberries and…and…! Look, I have a theory that there's a bitty out there for everyone! Every decent person, that is. And you're a decent person, even if you don't think so yourself. So we're going to get on that bus, go to that adoption center, and we're going to find you the bitty that you're destined to fall in love with! Have I made myself clear?!"

"Chara-"

"H a v e I m a d e m y s e l f c l e a r...?"

"…"

Frisk avoided her intense gaze, looking anywhere else but her for the longest time.

Chara plopped back down next to her with a loud sigh, giving Frisk's hand that was closest to her a little tap. When she didn't respond, Chara wiggled her own hand into her's and gave it a squeeze.

"How about this: we just take a look around and see how that goes? And if you really don't want to, you don't have to play or interact with any of them. Just look around, that's it. You've never even been inside before, so at least check the place out before rejecting the idea of adopting entirely. And if you still insist afterward that you don't want anything to do with adopting a bitty, I'll never bring it up to you ever again, promise."

"…"

Frisk bit your lip. The offer was tempting. She wouldn't even have to do anything; just humor Chara for the afternoon and she'd leave the issue alone forever. And she could agree with her on one thing; she hadn't ever seen the interior of an adoption center, so just walking around inside didn't sound like too bad of a time. Like a petting zoo featuring micro skeleton monsters. But still…

"…I'll buy you dinner after?"

"Okay."

~~~~~~~~~~

Chara was practically vibrating in her seat. She chattered animatedly about the different kinds of bitties the center had available while her friend halfway listened to her ramblings. With how excited she was, it almost made Frisk feel guilty over the very large likelihood of coming out of the building holding the same opinion on adopting as she did before.

Admittedly, she had, on occasion, wondered what it would be like to have one of the pygmy skeletons in her company, but only after a while of seeing Chara together with Bossanova. She had always been a happy person, but after he entered her life, her joy had increased threefold. Then Frisk began to look around her and see other people happy in the company of their bitties, and the bitties happy and enjoying their company just as much.

Seeing this never-ending circle of happiness unfold around her, it made Frisk want to experience a little bit of that happiness for herself…

But her awkwardness around others was bound to extend to bitties as well. She tried to make conversation, but her attempts always fell flat. It seemed as though she always said the wrong thing, she cared too little or too much about a subject matter, she came off as too clingy one moment and too aloof the next. Relationships of any kind were far too difficult for her to deal with, she surmised.

It was just so much easier to push everyone away. But Chara, she had to be different. She was the only one that pushed back. And she kept pushing until she landed in Frisk's good graces, earned her trust. For years now, Chara's been her only friend, and Frisk was content with that.

But after all that talk of having her to herself for years and it being time to share her with somebody else, Frisk couldn't help but wonder…

Was Chara's relentless endeavoring to convince her of adopting a bitty Chara's way of getting some breathing room? Was their friendship actually smothering her now and she's simply too kind to admit it?

"We're here!" She nearly squealed in Frisk's ear before grabbing her arm, dragging her off the bus and away from her internal monologue. Chara then commenced shoving her towards the adoption center's front doors.

It looked small from the outside, but Frisk knew from Chara's numerous recountings of her previous trips here that there was much, much more space on the inside. It would have to be a big place if it held at least half of all the different varieties of bitties she remembered Chara telling her about in the past half hour, and she hadn't even been listening to most of her rantings during that time, so Frisk was certain she hadn't picked up the names of every one she mentioned.

The bell at the top of the door jingled when it was opened, alerting the keeper of the establishment, the mama, as she recalled Chara explaining. Apparently being the mama didn't require being female, because a very much male arachnid monster wearing a crisp white pocketed apron hurried over to greet them.

"Hi, Chara! I wasn't expecting to see you back so soon. Weren't you here just earlier today?" He then noticed Frisk and sent a toothy smile her way. "My name is Webber. You must be Frisk, right? Chara talks about you all the time whenever she stops by. You were a very cute baby!"

At Webber's sugary-sweet giggle, she slowly turned her head towards Chara in a manner that must have looked like a real-life reenactment of the iconic scene from The Exorcist, who only gave her a goofy face in response to an action that would have greatly disturbed literally anyone else.

"You showed the employees here my baby pictures…?" Frisk hissed between her teeth.

"Yeah." She replied, gleefully pulling out her wallet from her back pocket and unfolding it to pluck out one of the photographs. "He's right, though. You were a really cute baby!"

"Why do you even carry that around with you?!"

"Because you're my sister and I love you."

"…I love you too." Frisk mumbled in defeat, figuring there was no use in getting mad at her over it now; what's done is done.

"So, are you here to browse, or…?" Webber decided to steer the conversation towards something more on topic, his hands clasped and a hopeful sparkle in his eyes - his very many eyes.

Frisk nervously toyed with the collar of her shirt. "I'm actually just here to look-"

"She's kind of on the fence about it!" Chara butted in. "We're going to look around and see if there's any bitty she takes a shine to. I'm sure there's got to be one that she's bound to love with all the different types here."

"We do have a very large selection available, my hands can definitely attest to that! Always busy!" Webber grinned, waving his six hands at her. "It's actually a lot easier to just list the types that aren't here. Even so, I think a bitty of every kind that we know about has been in this building at least once."

Frisk had a feeling she was going to be here for a while, if Chara has her way. She'll most likely insist that they view each and every classification of bitty kept here before allowing her to leave the adoption center's grounds.

"…Hey, Chara? Where's Bossanova?" The spider monster asked as he pointed to her shoulder, now noticing the small skeleton's absence. "He wasn't with you the first time you were here today either…"

"He's been grounded." She answered with a huff. "He bit a guy yesterday while we were out on a walk, so now he's in trouble."

"Oh dear… You do know he only does that because he sees you as his partner and he's upset over what he perceives as competition, right?"

"Yeah, I know. It's flattering sometimes, but really, the poor guy was just asking for directions. It's not like he was flirting with me or anything, even though I am irresistable."

"Oh my stars, Chara…" Frisk thought with an internal eyeroll.

Even though Frisk knew Chara was just joking, well, mostly, she was also right. Chara herself flirted playfully, but she was ironically incredibly dense when it came to others flirting with her. She couldn't differentiate between a serious or teasing atmosphere, so she opted to believe that the latter was always the case, frustrating those that had their eyes on her immensely.

Chara was beautiful and kind, everything that Frisk wasn't. It was obvious to Frisk why she would have a drove of admirers. Of course, since Bossanova's adoption, he did an exceptional job of keeping said admirers at bay despite his small size. At least she could trust in him that he would keep any and all creeps away from her precious sister.

As the discussion over Bossanova stretched on with no conclusion in close sight, Frisk decided to wander away from the two for the time being and check out the center's interior for herself. She soon found herself in a room that was somewhat small for a group composed of a few people, but immensely spacious for a pack of bitties. The walls were painted with soft colors, pastels, and on them were images of stars, fluffy clouds, and other things like what one would expect to find in a nursery. Was this where they kept the children bitties?

If she was ever coerced into adopting a bitty, it wasn't going to be a child. She had little patience for small children, but she supposed there wasn't any harm to be found in looking around.

Frisk quietly tip-toed further into the room towards the nearest pen housing a solitary bitty, all by its lonesome. Leaning closer to examine the monster, it was rather… big for a bitty. It was larger and bulkier than most of the bitties she had seen before, about the size of a teddy bear. She was beginning to have doubts about this one being a baby.

A blanket was thrown over its body and its head was shoved under a pillow, its form almost entirely concealed to her. The bitty's fidgeting was near constant in its slumber, when suddenly, it froze. It remained still as a statue for several long moments. The seconds dragged on, and when those seconds reached minutes was when she wondered if the poor thing had accidentally smothered itself with that pillow in its sleep.

Could skeleton monsters even die of asphyxiation?

Before she could grow too concerned, however, it moved again. The bitty tore off the blanket covering its body and threw the pillow to the side, revealing its full appearance to her – a stocky skeleton monster with a huge, glaring red eye, an unsettlingly wide, toothy grin, and a gaping hole in its head.

"Nope, definitely not a baby!" Frisk thought with growing horror as she jumped away from the pen with a yelp.

This wasn't in any way a nursery, she realized too late. If she had payed attention at all to Chara on the bus ride here, she would have known. This adoption center didn't have children bitties in their care, so they wouldn't need a nursery – this was the room for rescues.

The disfigured bitty didn't seem bothered by Frisk's reaction in the slightest, rising up on its two feet to make its way over to her. There was a thick layer of glass separating the two, but that did little to comfort her in this situation. The monster's glowing eye was trained on Frisk, focused and unwavering as it stepped closer. The bitty didn't stop until it reached the wall of its pen, fully pressing itself up against the glass.

"hhhhiiiiiiiiiiiiiii….." The bitty drawled in a deep gutteral tone, smiling at her with a nauseating grin.

There was something clinging to the corners of its mouth; it was either pillow stuffing or he was foaming at the mouth. Frisk slowly backed away from the pen with hands raised in a defensive position, continuing to do so even as the bitty's hands made frantic clawing and grabbing motions at her. On her way out, she bumped into something, whirled around, and let out a scream she didn't even know she had been holding.

"Sorry! Sorry!" It was just Webber. "I didn't mean to scare you! That's, uh, that's Chopper over there. …I can see you two have already met." He winced, taking in the expression on her face, which must have been ghastly.

Chara poked her head in swiftly after. "Did you find Frisk, Webber?"

All Frisk could do was weakly point a trembling finger towards Chopper before rushing forward and throwing her arms around Chara's neck as she tried not to start bawling. Chara wrapped her own around Frisk and began patting the other girl's back and smoothing her hair.

"I know how you feel, Frisk. The first time in the rescue room is always the toughest. I wish you hadn't seen this, not today and not like this."

That sweet little domestic image Frisk held of all the bitties living blissfully alongside their owners had just been shattered – how could someone do this to a bitty?

"…What kind of bitty is he?" Chara inquired curiously after a few minutes of her and Webber making a team effort to calm Frisk down. "He looks like a Sansy, but…"

"That's because he was a Sansy…" Webber began to explain, wringing his apron nervously with his two lowermost hands. "Sometimes certain classifications of bitties come to be when certain conditions are met. In his case, he was a Sansy that became an Axe type bitty due to near starvation and receiving a severe blow to the head. It was a miracle that he survived at all."

"The person that did this to him needs to be dragged out into the streets and shot." Chara immediately replied, perhaps a bit too cheerfully.

Frisk and Webber gazed at her, gobsmacked, along with some of the other bitties in the room. Her remark was so sudden, not to mention disturbing, even Chopper ceased rubbing his face against the glass of his pen to peer at her quizzically with widened eyesockets.

"Er, um, I think you've seen enough of the rescue room today, right, Frisk?" Webber stuttered, looking at anywhere else but Chara at the moment. He then crouched down in front of the now identified Axe bitty and spoke to him in a gentle, encouraging tone, "Say goodbye to Frisk, Chopper."

"b-bye-b-b-bbyyyeeeee…" He managed to choke out, his vocalization almost sounding like a sob.

Frisk whispered a barely audible 'bye' in return before following Webber and Chara out of the room.

She missed the tearful look in Chopper's eyes as he watched her go, his phalanges still making small frantic grabbing motions against the glass wall of his pen at her retreating figure.

~~~~~~~~~~

"…That was horrible." Frisk whispered, every bone in her body quaking.

"I'm so sorry… I usually lock that door. And the one time I don't, somebody new here finds themselves in there, of all places..." Webber wasn't certain whether it would be alright to touch her or not, so his hands hovered about unsurely.

"No, I shouldn't have wandered off in the first place. …I'll be fine. Maybe seeing some happy and healthy bitties would help…?" She offered, anything to get her mind off of the manifestation of humanity's depraved cruelty that was present in that room.

"You still want to?" Chara asked, to which Frisk gave a wordless nod in return. "Alright, but if you need to just let it all out, let me know, okay?" She turned to the arachnid monster. "I can take things from here Webber. I'll show Frisk around the adoption center. I know this place better than the back of my hand!"

"Okay, but if you need me at all, give me a shout or a poke and I'll be there." He called, still concerned as he rushed off to carry out his other duties as the mama of the establishment.

"How about we go see the Sansies, huh?" Chara suggested as she unceremoniously shoved Frisk in the direction of the Sansy pen.

The bitties in this pen were much shorter than Chopper, about the height of your average can of soda, but they had the same thick-boned structure. However, a layer of chub was visible on their stomachs that was absent on the Axe bitty she had encountered. These Sansies seemed to be healthy, that much Frisk could take comfort in.

They seemed content behind the glass of their enclosure as well. Among their utilities was a kiddie pool where one of them was dozing off in a doughnut floatie and another was reclining in a miniature folding chair while appearing to be pretending to sunbathe. The others were either lounging about in various positions, napping outright, or speaking to each other in deep, soft mumbles. They weren't very active bitties, were they?

"A Sansy might be a good match for you, Frisk." Chara spoke, causing some of the little skeletons to turn your way. "They're lazy and round, and they're supposed to be low maintenance. Then again, all bitties are different, even if they are the same type. You might adopt one and end up with a spoiled little prince of a Sansy."

"…Do they bite?" She questioned.

"Only if you deserve it." Chara gave her another encouraging push forward. "Sansies are one of the mildest mannered bitties there is. I can count all the cases I've heard of one biting somebody on one hand."

"yeah, i don't bite, kid." One of the bitties assured as he sauntered towards them, a relaxed grin on his face as he craned his neck up to look at Frisk, topping off his statement with a wink.

The Sansy held both hands behind his back and bounced from one foot to the other, him staring up at her and her staring back. After a long moment of silence, his grin began to slip just a little around the corners as he gazed at her expectantly.

"…I think he wants you to pick him up." Chara whispered not so discreetly in Frisk's ear.

"Is that allowed?" She asked incredulously.

"Uh, yeah, it is." Chara snorted as if her inquiry was a completely ridiculous thing to wonder about.

Frisk stole a glance at the Sansy, who was still patiently waiting for the girl to reach down and take him in her hands.

"Go on, I know you wanna poke his belly." Chara repeatedly elbowed her with a grin.

She did, in fact, kind of want to poke his belly, but wouldn't that be kind of rude? But more importantly, it seemed Frisk was the only one out of the three of them present that acknowledged how much could go wrong with this scenario. What if she accidentally dropped him? What if he landed on his head? What if his impact with the floor resulted in the shattering of his skull? He might turn into an Axe variant, just like the one in the rescue room, and all because she hadn't been careful enough with him.

Why was she the only one that seemed to be seriously considering that very real possibility? Did these bitties have any sense of self-preservation in them? Were they really that trusting towards complete strangers to not hurt them?

"…What if I drop him?" Frisk unintentionally voiced her fear aloud.

"You won't drop him." Chara held back a laugh, trying to take her concern seriously but failing – to her, it would be impossible for Frisk to hurt a bitty even by accident with how cautious she was around them.

"hey, look at me for a sec, pal." The Sansy grinned up at her. "you're not gonna hurt me. not even the littlest bitty. everything's going tibia ok."

"…Was that a pun?"

"Sansies love concocting horrible puns. It's their specialty." Chara chimed in. "That's why they're so popular. They've got that jokey demeanor that's somehow also uplifting and reassuring, or that's what I've heard. I didn't adopt a Sansy, so I can't speak from experience."

They were both looking at Frisk anticipatingly now – she was promised that she wouldn't have to interact with any of the bitties if she didn't wish it, and Chara wouldn't force her to if she put her foot down about it, but seeing that Sansy looking up at her with just the tiniest spark of hope in his eyelights made Frisk want to muster up the determination to try.

Gingerly, she bent her upper body over the top of the pen and lowered her hand until it was beside him. He smiled, the wide grin he had been wearing appearing more genuine somehow as he toddled over to the outstretched palm. Rather than climb right into the awaiting hand, he took a moment to gently rub his bony cheek against the tips of her fingers, causing Frisk's hand to twitch and skin to tingle at the contact.

Chara was practically vibrating in place like a bottle of soda about to burst as she watched the interactions between her and the bitty unfold. Frisk could tell she was doing her best not to let out a squeal of delight.

Frisk stared down at the bitty sadly; she couldn't help it. These poor little skeleton monsters with their fragile bones were entirely at the mercy of anyone that walked out with one. Did they know that? Were they even aware of the fact that any of them could end up as one of those Axe variants if they were unfortunate enough to be taken home by a person with enough violence and apathy in them? Maybe it was better for them to stay behind the safety of the walls of their pen instead of risking them being handed out to humans with evil intentions.

A brief and horrifying image of this kind little Sansy that had taken the time and effort to speak with her morphing into an exact replica of Chopper flashed in Frisk's mind before she could stop it.

Just as the Sansy was about to take a seat on her palm, she jerked her hand out of the pen, resulting in him falling backwards and onto his rear. He whipped his head up at Frisk with widened eyesockets and that seemingly permanent grin he wore wiped off, looking for some sort of explanation for her sudden change of heart.

"…I've changed my mind. I don't need to be touching or poking around at anybody here. It's just too much excitement for a first-timer like me."

"…'s alright. i get it. no pressure." The bitty shrugged, trying not to look dejected for her sake as he stood up to rub at his sore tailbone.

She realized then that he had just passed up the opportunity to make another bad pun by correcting you with 'don't you mean any bitty here?'. Her rejection had actually stung so much that he had lost any and all desire to make a joke, something his entire classification of bitty was supposed to enjoy doing and were renown for.

It's all she knew how to do, it seemed – hurt people in some shape or form.

"Chara and I are going to check out the rest of the center, so…" She trailed off awkwardly.

"'k. have fun…" The Sansy replied in a dull tone, shoulders sagged and posture slumped as his dimmed eyelights watched her go.

"Frisk, what was that about?" Chara interrogated once Frisk had speed walked far enough from the Sansy pen.

"I don't know how to explain it, but…" She grimaced, looking her in the eyes. "One moment I was okay with the idea of holding him and then the next, he suddenly looked just like that Axe…"

"What happened in there must have really shook you, Frisk." She sighed, though understanding and sympathetic towards her apprehension. She pointed to the pen behind them with a growing smile. "We're close to the Papy pen, so why don't we look at them? They're sure to raise your spirits."

She didn't know what a Papy was, but if they were ghost monsters of some sort, Frisk was smacking her for that pun.

They weren't, though, so Chara had avoided the consequences of telling a terrible pun. They were skeleton monsters like the Sansies were, and every other bitty she had encountered thus far, but looked radically different. While Sansies were short and stout, these Papys were tall and slender. They looked similar to Bossanova, but just an inch or two shorter and lacked all the features that made Chara's bitty companion appear unfriendly and intimidating.

"HELLO, HUMAN!" One eagerly bounced towards the two with a friendly wave. "MY NAME IS RONDO, WHAT'S YOURS?"

Bossanova? Rondo?

Whoever it was responsible for naming these bitties seemed to have a penchant for music.

"Frisk." She answered flatly, trying not to let her already less than stellar interactions with the hostile Bossanova taint her impression of this entirely unrelated bitty.

"FRISK, THAT'S A NICE NAME!" Rondo beamed at her, then gestured dramatically to the space around him. "HUMAN FRISK, WOULD YOU LIKE TO STEP INSIDE?"

"No thanks. I'm just here to look today, that's all."

Frisk swore her heart panged when she caught the shunned expression that crossed his face for all of a split-second before instantly returning to that smile that was so bright one was almost forced to squint.

"VERY WELL, THEN. I RESPECT YOUR DECISION, HUMAN. MY GREATNESS IS VERY INTIMIDATING, I'M SURE." He placed a gloved hand over his chest, a dramatic wind that came from nowhere causing the scarf tied around his neck to flutter in the nonexistant breeze. "SHOULD YOU HAVE A CHANGE OF HEART, HOWEVER, I, THE GREAT RONDO, WILL BE HERE!"

"Okay, I'll keep that in mind." She nodded in his direction before stepping over towards the next pen.

Oh dear.

Chara gave a gasp of joy at the bitties in what was a new sight to Frisk but a very familiar and nostalgic one for her. Inside was another pack of skeleton monsters, tall and slender like the Papys, but the sharp features they possessed were also extremely recognizable to Frisk due to the time spent around Chara's bitty. Sharp teeth, red eyelights, dark clothing – they were all near exact copies of Bossanova.

"And these handsome little devils are the Edges!" This time, Chara did squeal. "Ah, seeing them makes me miss my Bossanova so much… Why did he have to be a jealous jerk and bite that guy and make me ground him?"

Pushing Chara's prattling out of her mind, Frisk considered moving along to the next pen, as she knew without a single lingering doubt that she wasn't adopting another Bossanova, or Edge, as they were called, but one of the bitties flagged her down before Frisk could get too far.

"HUMAN!" The miniature skeleton wearing the finely tailored black suit and crimson cravat shouted, strutting up to the glass between the two of them with all the confidence of a peacock. He placed one hand over his puffed out chest and scrutinized her condescendingly. "WHEREVER COULD YOU BE RUNNING OFF TO SO QUICKLY? COULD IT BE YOU HAVE BEEN INTIMIDATED BY THE TERRIBLE EDGEWORTH?"

"He has the same name as that character from the game about the lawyers you like so much!" Chara pointed out with apparent glee. "Look at the wittle snappy suit he's wearing; he looks like he could be a lawyer!"

"I AM THE TERRIBLE EDGEWORTH, POWERFUL AND FEARED!" He scowled at her with a light red dusting his pointy cheekbones. He crossed his arms with a huff and turned his nose up. "THERE IS NOTHING ENDEARING ABOUT THE SIZE OF MYSELF OR MY EXTRAVAGANT SUIT, SO CEASE YOUR INANE COOING IMMEDIATELY, HUMAN!"

"See that tiny blush there? He so loves the attention." She leaned over to whisper, not bothering at all with subtlety as she pointed at the fuming Edgeworth. "The defining trait of Edges is that most of them are tsunderes."

"You know I've never really been that fond of tsundere characters, Chara…"

"I know." She sighed wistfully, not taking her eyes off of Edgeworth, who was steaming like a tea kettle at this point with indignation. "I guess the charm of Edges are just lost on you. But that's okay. I totally get it. Edges aren't for everybody. We'll find you a type of bitty that you'll like, I'm sure of it."

With that, she carted Frisk away, Edgeworth still spewing out an endless tirade of scoldings and insistent statements of denial that he appreciated any attention from a lowly insignificant human to their backs.

The next pen was occupied by more Sansies, Frisk thought at first. However, these bitties had rougher and more pointed features than the Sansies, just as the Edges had sharper and more mordacious features than the Papys. They were also noticeably thicker bodied than the Sansies, their clothes being more filled out, especially around the belly area.

Frisk had a secret weakness for small and chubby things, particularly those round birds one would find in the parking lots of supermarkets that weren't so heavy that they couldn't fly, but preffered to hop around on the ground, picking at dropped food morsels with their beaks and only taking flight when they absolutely had to.

That's what these bitties reminded her of.

The fondness she felt for them was immediately replaced with mortification when one took notice of her persisting gaze and grinned, flashing his shark-like teeth. Frisk caught her reflection in the single golden fang in his knife drawer of a mouth.

"c'mere, doll." He nearly purred, pawing at the glass of the pen separating her from him. "I don't bite… much."

"Chara, I'm scared." She whimpered, discarding her cactus armor in favor of cowering at her side like the squishy marshmallow she was inside.

"You are not. He's six inches tall for pete's sake, Frisk, and you thought he was cute just a moment ago! I saw it in your eyes!"

"That was before he opened his mouth."

"Frisk, I won't lie to you and say that Reds don't bite, because they most definitely do." Frisk glared at her, wondering if what she was saying was somehow supposed to be reassuring. "But, it's scientifically proven that Reds are sixty percent more likely to bite you on the first encounter if you're a dude, so you've only got a forty percent chance of being bit!"

"…That's still a pretty big margin for error. I'll pass on this one."

"c'mon, sweetheart. i'll behave." The Red crooned, his mannerisms and sly grin doing little to convince her of his claim holding any amount of truth. "i don't like makin' promises, but i won't bite ya, doll. …maybe give ya some love nibbles 'n a few licks here 'n there, though. eheheh…"

"…The Reds are all perverts, aren't they?" She tilted her head in Chara's direction with a weary gaze. Normally, she'd blush profusely at hearing such a thing, but after the day she'd had, Frisk just didn't have it in her anymore.

"No, they aren't perverts!" Chara wanted to be stern with her, but she couldn't resist laughing at her expression. "Some of them are kind of flirty, okay, a lot flirty, but some of them are more temperamental like the Edges, too. It all depends on the individual personality of the bitty."

"…I still don't feel too comfortable around this one. And I'm not just saying that because of the abundant air of flirtiness around him." Frisk said, stealing a glance at his sharp teeth that would undoubtedly break skin if he did decide to bite. "He looks kind of mean."

"i can be sweet too, if that's what yer lookin' for in a bitty." The Red bargained, beginning to sweat.

She didn't even know skeleton monsters could sweat, but if they can blush then seeing one sweat shouldn't be too jarring to her.

"I'm not looking to take any one of you home today, sorry." Despite his weird display of behavior, she decided it was best to let him down gently.

"tch. fine. be that way, then. you don't gotta make any excuses, dollie. i get it." He scowled at her, failing to hide his hurt and disappointment as he turned away from Frisk and stomped his way to the nearest corner of the pen, sitting down and facing the wall. "guess reds are just too mean 'n ugly for most folks to want…"

"…I never called him ugly." She said, feeling guilty for hurting the bitty's feelings and saying the wrong thing again.

That right there was a shining example of exactly why she didn't need to adopt a bitty. She'd just end up hurting the poor thing, if not physically then emotionally.

Frisk looked around the pen and took note of the fewer number of Reds when compared to the Sansies or Papys. It seemed they really weren't a favorable classification of bitty, otherwise wouldn't the center have more of them around?

"Hey, don't get too bent out of shape." Chara comforted her, picking up on the fog of gloom that was beginning to form around her. "Reds are actually pretty popular among some circles. Like I said about the Edges, they're not for everybody, but some people out there really like their rugged appeal. But when somebody doesn't take to them, Reds do take it pretty hard. He'll be okay, eventually."

She then guided Frisk away from the pen, probably so she wouldn't break any more of their hearts, metaphorically speaking.

The next pen contained more skeleton monsters – in fact, Frisk hadn't ever come across a bitty that wasn't a skeleton monster. Then again, she didn't know that much about bitties. That much, she did know.

The bitties behaved a lot like the Sansies they saw up front, but they had the likeness of Papys, even more so than the Edges. There wasn't any asperity to them – they seemed limp and repose, like long little noodles.

"If you really wanted to, you could absolutely hold a Stretch without any worries over being bit at or scratched." Chara explained, gesturing to one of them that was sprawled out in the lap of a big teddy bear. "You could probably even pick one up and swing him around like a ragdoll and he wouldn't do a thing about it. That's how chill they are."

"That's entirely too chill." Frisk complained, now worried for another type of bitty that apparently didn't have any sense of self-preservation in his bony body.

"you fret too much, honey." One of them sauntered over, having woken up from his nap in the bitty-sized hammock inside the pen.

"…Honey?" She raised an eyebrow at Chara, unimpressed.

"Eheeheehee!" She cackled, earning a sigh from Frisk.

"Another pervy-" Excuse her. "Flirty bitty."

The Stretch in front of them, well, stretched, lightly popping his joints, causing a few of the others in the pen to grimace and send him irritated looks for interrupting their own naps. He either didn't notice or didn't care, preferring to keep his attention on the both of them, but moreso Chara.

"'m name's Bebop, sugar." He introduced himself, punctuated by another pop from his bones.

There was that musical naming theme again. Frisk was surprised nobody here had thought to dress him up like a cowboy…

That's what she would do, anyway.

"Well aren't you a charmer!" Chara was enraptured by every word that fell from his bony mouth; Frisk could already see the signs of infatuation in her eyes as she smiled down at Bebop.

"Wow, Chara. One day without him around and you're already looking for a replacement for Bossanova."

Chara whirled around to face her with an offended gasp, one hand gripped over her heart.

"How dare you say that, Frisk! There's no replacing Bossanova! I probably love him more than I've ever loved myself!"

Huh. Frisk had a suspicion for a while now that this was true, but she wasn't expecting a confirmation of that theory, especially not under these circumstances.

"That's a lot of love." She stated blankly.

"I don't want to replace Bossanova. I just thought it might help improve the more rotten parts of his personality if he had a calmer bitty buddy around him."

"With how jealous he is, and how flirty this one is?" Frisk waved a hand gesturing to Bebop, who only gave a lazy smile and a wave in return. "That sounds like a horrible idea, Chara."

She sighed in defeat, bending down to eye level with him. "I'm sorry, Bebop. Our love just wasn't meant to be."

"i'll be waitin' right here honey, in case you ever change your mind." He placed a hand against the glass of the pen, aligning his tiny one with the middle of her palm, curling his phalanges as if he were attempting to will the glass to break under his touch so he could reach Chara.

…Frisk was beginning to feel like she was witnessing the separation of two illicit lovers on a soap opera or those Spanish telenovelas her mother watched and ate up like candy. Could this technically count as an affair? This was getting weird!

As Chara withdrew her hand, however, she couldn't deny that Bebop's expression seemed somewhat softer, his grin more at ease but melancholy all the same. She thought that he was just going along with Chara's theatrics, but it seemed now that her rejection had sincerely hurt him.

His drooped eyesockets followed her until she was out of sight.

Chara seemed very enthusiastic about what she was about to show Frisk in the next pen. She seemed to be pinning a lot of her hopes on whatever type of bitty it was awaiting her.

"I've never heard of a single instance of one biting anybody! They're highly recommended for someone that isn't experienced in handling bitties, which describes you to a T – perfect for a first bitty. And they're soooooooo cute, even you'll think so, Frisk!"

"I have my doubts, but I'll go ahead and humor you."

Ignoring her sour grapes attitude, Chara stepped in front of the pen, obstructing Frisk's view. "Are you ready?"

"As I'll ever be."

"And these precious little gumdrops are… the Blueberries!"

She stepped aside and allowed her to observe the pocket-sized skeletons. They were yet another classification of bitty that bore more than a few striking resemblances to the Sansies, but instead of appearing intimidating as the Reds were, they had an overall softer look to them. They weren't as round in the stomach as the Reds, but they still had that supermarket parking lot bird aspect to them that Frisk liked. They were playing happily by themselves, or with each other, not a single sign of discontent or quarrel among them.

All until one peered up to look at her with cerulean eyelights which morphed into the shape of stars, followed immediately by the rest halting in whatever action or task each bitty was performing to do the same.

Suddenly, the entire pack of Blueberries were scrambling in her direction. They swiftly began piling up on each other, tripping on the legs of others and knocking one another down until a shouting and flailing mass of skeletal limbs had formed, a messed up chorus of bitties yelling and climbing all over each other for the express purpose of capturing her interest.

"HUMAN! A HUMAN HAS ARRIVED!"

"PLEASE LOOK AT ME, HUMAN!"

"CHOOSE ME, PLEASE! I KNOW HOW TO MAKE TACOS!"

"I KNOW HOW TO MAKE TACOS TOO, BUT BETTER!"

"YOU MAY KNOW HOW TO MAKE TACOS BETTER, BUT I MAKE TACOS THE BEST!"

"LIAR, LIAR, BITTY ON FIRE!"

"PLEASE NOTICE ME, HUMAN!"

Frisk slowly backed away from the pen, even though she was in no amount of danger of the Blueberries escaping. But seeing them all clustered like this shouting at the top of their likely nonexistant lungs was, for her, an extremely anxiety-inducing experience. Their voices were all blended together, their movements blurred. It was becoming more and more of a challenge to discern which one was saying what. They had all but become a hivemind to her.

Frisk tenderly rubbed at her temples, feeling a headache beginning to bloom in her skull. All this noise was proving to be too much for her fragile nerves to handle.

"…I can't do this."

She spun on her heel and began walking, trying to block out the needy cries and whines of the attention deprived Blueberries behind her. She finally stopped once she'd reached the back end of the building, her speedy and abrupt departure forcing Chara to jog in order to catch up.

"I'm sorry, Frisk, that was probably my fault!" She sputtered, doubled over and out of breath. "I told them about you when I was here earlier today, and I guess I got them a little too rowdy."

"Chara, that wasn't even remotely close to 'rowdy'. That was a riot."

"Blueberries are competitive when it comes to adoption!" She sighed, and for the first time in a long, long while, the smile she always wore, regardless of the current situation or mood, had vanished completely. "Frisk, I know I said before that all you had to do today was look around, that's it, but I didn't think then that you'd be like this the entire time…"

"Like what?" She nearly hissed, not liking at all what she was insinuating.

"You're acting completely disinterested, and rude, and… and cold! What's your problem, Frisk?!"

"You can't blame me for acting disinterested, Chara." She barked back, doing everything within her power to keep her own temper in check. "I told you when you first proposed the idea that I didn't want to adopt a bitty, but you just kept pushing and pushing until I finally agreed in allowing you to drag me here."

"So that's what you're calling it – dragging you here." Her shoulders squared as she aimed a glare at Frisk. "You really aren't having any fun at all, are you?"

"How am I supposed to enjoy myself when I know I'm about to lose my best and only friend? Explain that to me, Chara!" She unintentionally exclaimed, causing Chara's eyes to widen in shock and confusion.

"…Frisk, what are you talking about?" Her voice was uncharacteristically faint.

"Don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about! You can just say it; I won't get mad, because I understand!" Frisk shouted, turning her gaze towards the floor – she couldn't bear to look Chara in the face as her insecurities and fears bubbled to the surface. "It's the entire reason why you brought me here – if I adopted a bitty, you'd have more time to spend with your other friends or to yourself, right? Being around me is suffocating, isn't it? Having to constantly put up with someone who's so anti-social and mean, who always says or does the wrong thing so much that just about everyone waits until I'm gone just to talk with you… I don't blame you. Not at all. Why wouldn't you look for the first opportunity to get away from someone like that?"

Frisk hadn't realized she was crying until she saw a droplet fall down to her feet. Her cheeks were stained with tears, her nose was running. And right in front of Chara, too. This wasn't the first time she had seen her like this, but it was still something rare for her to witness – Frisk did all her crying behind closed doors if she could help it.

Frisk's only saving grace was the fact that no employees, other visitors, or bitties behind their glass enclosures were present as spectators of her emotional breakdown. Because the absolute last thing she needed right now was someone seeing her in this state and feeling sorry for her. She definitely didn't deserve any pity, not when she was such an awful friend.

That's what she was, an awful friend. A friend so awful that her only companion in life felt that she needed to get a bitty, something that theoretically couldn't run away from her like everyone else, just so she could get a break.

Frisk heard footsteps – Chara's footsteps. She saw her moving through the hair covering her eyes and the tears blurring her vision.

This was it. This was the end of their friendship.

She didn't have to pretend anymore.

She could be free.

Frisk didn't expect to feel arms around her, one around her back and the other behind her head, but she did. Frisk slowly lifted her head from the shoulder her face had been buried in to see familiar red hair and golden flowers.

Chara – her entire form shook as she held Frisk tightly, as if she would slip away and vanish if she didn't.

"Frisk, how could you even think that?" She sniffled, much to her shock. If there was one thing more rare than her seeing Frisk cry, it was Frisk seeing her cry. "That… that's not true! None of that is true! You're my best friend, you're my sister, my sister-friend, and I love you!"

"But I'm a horrible friend…" She wept through clenched teeth.

"No you're not! If anything, I'm the horrible friend!" Chara wailed loudly, pulling Frisk away from herself just enough to look her in the eyes. "I'm the one that's closest to you, the one that's supposed to know you better than anyone else and I didn't even know you felt this way, didn't even notice!"

Oh no, Chara was blaming herself for her episode…

"I didn't want you to adopt a bitty because I wanted to get away from you!" Chara seemed to be mentally assessing all of her previous statements on the subject, not just today, and blanched. "Oh gosh… no wonder you thought that! What I said earlier, I didn't mean it like that! I… I was just so happy after I adopted Bossanova. Despite our… vast and various differences, it really felt like he saw something wonderful in me that most people tend to gloss over and wanted to be with me because of that. Bossanova and bitties in general have brought so much joy to my life that I wanted to share it. You were the one that's made me happiest and has been here with me, despite everything. So I thought that, out of everyone, you deserved that slice of happiness I found the most. That's why I've been so stubborn in pushing you to adopt; I thought that some bitty here might see what I see in you, like what you and Bossanova saw in me..."

Frisk openly sobbed then, wracked with more guilt than before; how could she have ever doubted Chara, her dearest and only friend?

Frisk was thankful that she pulled her back into her shoulder before she could create too much of a racket and cause Webber or some concerned customer to check up on the two of them. What an embarrassing story that would have been for Chara to have to explain. 'My sister is crying because she thought I was trying to get rid of her with a bitty.'

But no, she would never air out her insecurities like that; she'd make a convenient excuse for Frisk, one that wasn't a lie, but would save her from embarrassment and protect her privacy. Because that was the kind of person Chara was.

Chara fetched some tissues from her shoulder bag, drying Frisk's eyes and her's once the both of them had calmed down sufficiently. Thankfully, no one intruded during their moment, and the both of them were cleaned up enough that hopefully nobody would suspect that the two had just been bawling their hearts out to each other.

"I'm so sorry, Chara."

"No, I am. I'm the one that should be sorry." She argued, covering Frisk's mouth for the second time today before she could retort. "I've been way too… forceful, about this whole thing. It's completely true that I had the best of intentions in bringing you here, but the truth still stands that I had to wear you down for literal months and bribe you before you would even begin to consider it. There were things that you enjoyed and went nuts over in your own way that I didn't, but you never tried to cram those things down my throat like I have."

"No, it's really alright. You're just really passionate about bitties and wanted to share that with me. I get that. But, I just really don't think I'm properly equipped to adopt one."

"I understand, Frisk. I really am sorry, for everything. I thought I would be making you happy by bringing you here, but all I ended up doing in the end is make you cry – the last thing I ever wanted to do." She lightly grabbed Frisk's hand and began tugging her along. "Come on, we'll go get dinner and go home if you want, like I promised."

"Wait." She said, wiggling out of her grasp. "We can't go home yet! I… still haven't seen all of the center."

"Frisk, you don't have to force yourself to stay here just to entertain me. You've done enough of that already."

"I… I didn't dislike everything today."

"So you've actually had some fun? Really?" A faint trace of her usual smile was beginning to reappear.

"Really, Chara. I can think of plenty worse ways to have spent my time." A light, airy chuckle escaped her throat, but then she frowned when she remembered the poor, mangled thing of a bitty she had seen when first exploring the center. "But Chara… do you really think a bitty would be safe under my care? When I'm like this? They'd just get hurt."

"Frisk, listen to me." Chara gripped her shoulders, a serious expression on her face. "I wouldn't have even considered bringing you here if I ever once thought you'd hurt a bitty. Someone that would hurt a bitty wouldn't have reacted like you did when you saw that Axe. Someone that would hurt a bitty wouldn't have yanked your hand out of the pen the way you did and refuse to touch any of the bitties because you were afraid of dropping one. Someone that would hurt a bitty wouldn't have cut a conversation short because they were afraid of saying something that would hurt a Papy's feelings. Someone that would hurt a bitty wouldn't have been considerate of that Red's feelings when you shot him down even though you thought he was acting weird. Someone that would hurt a bitty wouldn't have carefully considered what might happen if your friend brought a flirty Stretch to a home with a chronically jealous Edge. Someone that would hurt a bitty wouldn't have walked away from a pen of Blueberries bouncing off the walls, even when this person was a few seconds away from having a nervous breakdown. Even when it looked like you were being unfriendly and rude to someone who didn't know you like I do, you've had nothing but the best intentions in mind for the bitties each and every time. That's why you would make the best bitty owner, in my maybe not so humble opinion."

"…I still don't know how I feel about adoption, but… I'll look around some more and see if there's any one that I like. There must be some pens that we passed up when I was running away from the Blueberries."

"Hmm, just the Blackberries and the Ruses, I think." She mused aloud, going over the map of the adoption center in her head. "I don't think you'd like the Blackberries too much, though, so maybe it's for the best."

"What are they like?"

"Like an Edge and a Blueberry mashed up together."

"Pass." Frisk replied so quickly that it made Chara snort. "What about the Ruses?"

"Weeeell…" She trailed off, bouncing on her heels. "They're like Stretches, but a little more rough around the edges. Some of them can be kind of standoffish at first, but once one decides they like you, they'll smother you in love and will literally die for you."

"That last part sounds a little concerning…" She voiced, the thought of a bitty, something so tiny and fragile, dying for her sake was just too much to bear.

"Some of them get attached to potential adopters easily, so maybe we should skip that one too to avoid any heartbreak, metaphorically speaking."

"That sounds best." Frisk agreed, having seen enough sad bitty faces for one day. "So… what else is there?"

"Well, we're close to where we keep the exotic bitties, over there to your left."

"Exotic? So these bitties are supposed to be rarer than the others?"

"Precisely."

"And undoubtedly more expensive than the others as well."

"…That is also correct."

~~~~~~~~~~

Frisk didn't really see what it was that made these bitties supposedly more special than the others, other than the fact that there were much fewer numbers of them in their pens. However, she soon learned that the reason why they were considered exotic was because most of these types of bitties only came to be from another type of bitty when certain conditions were met – they were similar cases to the Axe bitty, but the changes they underwent were entirely harmless.

The first pen the two of them came across were Sansy variants. They looked like the ones they had seen up front of the store in every conceivable way except for the manner in which they dressed. These bitties were either dressed in overalls and straw hats, or kimonos and sandals over socks. The space around them was covered in plants, mostly tomatoes with potted flowers interspersed here and there, with little ladders for the bitties to climb in order to reach them. On the far left side of the pen was some sort of watering hole, and to the far right were several loose pages with information about the plants in their domain scribbled on, likely by the bitties' own hands judging by the size of the handwriting.

"These are the Farmies. This type of bitty originated in Japan, but a few of them here became influenced without the country's involvement." Chara went on to explain further. "Farmies come to be when a Sansy finds and embraces the values of good honest country field work."

"That must be why there are so few of them." Frisk remarked, causing her and even a few of the bitties to laugh. "Only Japan could have taken a few lazy lumps of skeleton and turned them into this."

"Farming has done nothing to diminish their relaxed ways of life. They work hard, but also at their own pace." Chara corrected her, nodding to one of the Farmies that was taking a nap under the shadow of a looming tomato, a bitty-sized watering can resting at his side. "As you can imagine, they're loved amongst the agricultural community, but also by sweet little old ladies with gardens."

"I bet if dad doesn't have one of them already, he'd love one." Frisk then frowned. "I don't really know that much about what's going on in his life since he and mom split up…"

Before Frisk could dwell too much on her unfortunate family situation, Chara began pulling her away to look at the other exotic bitties there. When she bid them farewell, one of the kimono-clad monsters folded both hands on his lap and bowed before sending them off.

One type of bitty they saw was so rare, there were only two inside the pen. They must have been Papys at one point from what you could tell. Frisk couldn't see that much of them because they seemed bent on hiding as much of themselves from them as possible. Apparently this classification of miniature skelton was so rare, bitty researchers couldn't decide amongst themselves if they should be labelled as Greens or Asters, according to Chara. Unfortunately, all the attention they received over their rarity had made them rather quiet and withdrawn.

Their neighbors in the pen opposite were far less shy. There were four of them, and just as with the Greens or Asters, researchers weren't quite sure what brought them into existence. All that was known was that they stemmed from Sansies. But they didn't resemble Sansies in the slightest, to Frisk. They were tall, not as tall as a Papy, an Edge, or a Stretch, but definitely taller than a Sansy. They didn't dress like Sansies, either. These bitties resembled some of the J-Rock boyband members that Chara became obsessed with in her teenage years, with their leather jackets and combat boots; one of them was even holding an acoustic guitar, strumming the strings of the instrument with evident skill and quietly mouthing lyrics to himself.

One aspect about them made every single cell in her body freeze with pure terror when she noticed it, however. Their faces, all four of them, had identical hairline cracks over their eyes that stretched down their cheeks, and in their palms were holes that were so deep they spanned all the way to the backsides of their hands.

These bitties had been hurt, that was all she could think of at the moment. Before Frisk could sink too deeply into her trepidation, Chara quickly rectified her hasty presumption.

"I know what you're thinking, Frisk, but those cracks and holes are completely natural for Gs. None of these guys have even been adopted before, and nobody that works here would do anything bad to them and get away with it alive. Not while I'm around, anyway."

"But don't they… hurt?" Frisk inquired, gesturing to her own face and then the center of her hand.

"Not at all." The G holding the guitar answered for her. "But thanks for the concern. Nobody's really ever went out of their way to ask us that before. It's sweet."

His voice was low with a slight rasp, different from the deep and lazy tone the Sansies spoke in, but also not too different.

And then she realized that this bitty just called her sweet.

"Uhm… nobody's really said anything like that to me, either." She stammered, only to make another embarrassing realization, and that realization being that she was blushing.

And Chara and the bitty were enjoying it immensely.

"Gs are entertainment bitties. They charm the masses with their voices and fingerwork on the guitar strings." Chara quipped, her grin reminding Frisk of a certain meme involving a smug smiling cat.

"That makes them sound more like performers than bitties, from what I know about the both of them. Their talent sounds appealing, but couldn't someone adopt them for the sole reason of taking advantage of that?"

"You're a worrier, aren't you?" His tone wasn't patronizing, but Frisk felt so when she heard him chuckle, golden eyes gazing at her with mirth. "We're well taken care of here and our caretakers do their best to ensure we're handed over to people that won't take advantage of or abuse us, but sometimes fate deals you an unlucky hand. It's a sad fact of life, but that's reality for you."

"And you're… okay with that? You aren't ever concerned about falling into the hands of a bad person?"

"Of course it's something that some of us think about, but we don't let it consume our every thought. Monsters are a hopeful people, and that includes us bitties. We've all got our own seperate thoughts and feelings, but the majority of us try to look at the good in a person and hope for the best."

She took a moment to absorb his words. Frisk had heard before that the SOULs of monsters were made of love, hope, and compassion. It was a truly beautiful sounding thing, she thought. But these bitties' innocent hope that they would be adopted out to a home that would treat them well and love them and wouldn't use and abuse them, it was more heartbreaking to her, mainly because of the overhanging layer of hopelessness to the situation should they end up in one of the homes that would bring harm to them without care.

Another husky chuckle from him caught her attention.

"Although, there's something you could do to prevent that." He appeared pensive for a moment, inclining his body closer towards Frisk before breaking out into a broad grin and wiggling an eyebrow(eyebone?) at her. "You could take me home with you. Then neither you or I would have any reason to worry about me being adopted out to a bad home, because that's something you're obviously concerned over. I've got a nice life here, but being fussed over by you doesn't sound too bad at all."

"…Chara, we're going. He's making fun of me."

"No, no, wait! Come back!" He wheezed between his sputters of laughter at her scandalized and disgusted expression. "I won't tease you anymore, at least not over that."

Frisk huffed, her cheeks still pink, but at least she'd stopped shoving Chara away from the pen.

"'m sorry. I'm not trying to make fun of you, honest. It's just… really adorable that you care as much as you do." He laughed again, propping himself up on one elbow and resting his fist under his chin.

"If you're wanting me to take you home, you're really not helping your case here, pal."

"Probably not. But let me try to make it up to you?" He retrieved his guitar from where it was resting at his side. "I'm not that good, so don't hold your expectations too high, but I can guarantee it'll come directly from the SOUL."

Frisk could admit to herself that ever since Chara mentioned them being bitties that entertained, she was curious as to how he would sound. It looked like her curiosity was about to be sated when he began strumming the opening to a song that might have been familiar to her.

"There was a time I was in love

and all the angels and the doves

couldn't make her say

'I love you…'"

And heavens above, his playing, his voice was nearly divine. If he referred to this as 'not that good' then she was utterly terrified of what he considered to be exceptional.

This skeleton, about the size of a doll, had captured Frisk's complete and unwavering attention, and he was fully aware of this, looking up from his instrument to gaze up at her with a smug grin. But she was too enraptured with his playing to do something childish in retaliation like stick her tongue out at him.

"Hello, goodbye, t'was nice to know you

How I find myself without you

Hello, goodbye, I'm rather crazy

And I never thought I was crazy..."

Finished, he set his guitar to the side again and winked. "So, and be honest now, how'd you like my little performance?"

"Eh, it was better than 'not that good'." Frisk replied.

Hey, she was being honest with him, just not completely honest.

Her answer seemed to satisfy him, his smirk growing wider. "Oh?"

Then he had the audacity to flutter his eyesockets at her, both elbows resting on his knees and chin resting on his bony knuckles. The nerve, the unadulterated nerve.

But the truth was, this bitty had honestly almost convinced her in considering adopting him. The teasing was a bit irritating, but it wasn't out of malice. It was little different than when Chara did so. She knew that monsters were made of magic and were adept at using it – did he use the power of his voice to persuade her like some sort of skeletal siren? Yes, that had to be it.

But the truth still remained that Frisk was seriously mulling over the idea of taking him home with her. And he seemed to know it, because behind the complacentness of his grin and mischievous glint in his eyes was a genuine enthusiasm over possibly finding where it was he belonged.

And then it was all ruined once she spotted the small plaque fastened to the base of the pen listing the adoption fee. Frisk paled.

"Um, could-uh, could you excuse us for just a moment? Girl talk." Frisk stammered as she grabbed Chara by the neckline of her sweater and tugged her away, but he didn't seem to notice her unease.

"Take your time." He waved, that grin of his still in place.

She dragged Chara out of earshot of the Gs and stared at her with wide eyes, wheezing.

"What's up?" She had the courage to ask, taking in Frisk's expression that was reminiscent of a pigeon shot with a peashooter.

"Chara… did you take a look at the adoption fee attached to that guy?" She choked, grabbing one of her shoulders as leverage to steady herself, knees weak. "I could buy a Nintendo Switch and every single game that's been announced and released for it that I've expressed the slightest bit of interest in for the price over his head!"

"Don't you mean under his head?" Chara bantered, to which she gave her a dry stare. "Yeah, the kind of people you see with a G bitty are usually famous songwriters and singer-type persons, or wealthy people in general. Their rarity and rising popularity caused their price to catch up with them."

Frisk managed to halfway compose herself before facing the bitty again. She wasn't looking forward to what she was about to tell him.

"…I can't adopt you. I'm sorry."

"…Oh." He uttered after a pause that was much too long, the corners of his mouth downturned slightly.

While she had looked like a pigeon shot with a peashooter, he just looked as though he were shot, directly in the heart. Metaphorically speaking, of course. Perhaps it was more appropriate to say shot in the SOUL? Either way, he looked hurt. And so did Frisk.

"Can I… can I at least ask why?" He questioned, before deciding better of it – maybe he didn't want to know the answer. "Never mind, you don't have to say anything if you don't want to."

She wanted to give him an answer that would leave him with no further disappointment, but at the same time, how could she effectively explain to him that her decision was made through no fault of his own, it was just because he was expensive and she was a flat broke currently jobless college graduate?

"It's nothing that you've said or done, it's not you, let me make that clear!" She waved her hands about frantically before growing still. "It's just that… you are a luxury that few can afford. And I cannot afford the luxury that is you…"

"…Eh?" His expression looked less hurt now and more confused.

…He had no idea how much he was worth.

Frisk crouched down to eye-level with him as Chara had done with Bebop earlier.

"Listen, I sincerely hope, with all my heart and SOUL, that you find a good home with a loving owner that can provide for you in a way that I… well, can't. I was getting ahead of myself back there. I didn't consider the fine print behind adopting you and accidentally got your hopes up. And for that, I apologize."

He gave a single nod accompanied by a deep sigh, looking more perplexed than ever with her explanation.

"Alright. I can't say I understand your reasoning because that'd be lying directly to your face, but I respect your decision."

"It was nice meeting you." She offered, not wanting their conversation to end on a sour note.

"Same."

Frisk and Chara moved on before they could get too sentimental, but as soon as the both of them were out of earshot he turned around to face his other three companions.

"A luxury few can afford… What in the name of creation is that supposed to mean?!"

~~~~~~~~~~

"I feel like garbage. I should probably lie down." Frisk muttered, still feeling terrible for dashing yet another bitty's hopes for adoption.

Chara patted her back consolingly as she led her around the exotic bitty pens in an effort to cheer Frisk up. She showed her Inkies – Sansies that had transformed after being exposed to the mighty power of art, Gasters – the tallest of discovered bitties, whose lower bodies turned to goop when they were scared (which was often), and the Lamias – Frisk sped right past them once she figured out what they were. She bore an intense fear of snakes, which had only heightened after several years ago when one of their crazy neighbors had illegally purchased a python from the dark web and then didn't bother to feed it. It soon managed to escape their neighbor's house and began searching for food elsewhere, and that food had almost been Frisk.

Frisk has led an interesting life.

She had fun with Chara. Frisk had entered the store a few minutes after twelve and it was close to evening now.

"Well, we've spent all this time here and I still haven't found a bitty to adopt." She remarked, realizing the irony of her statement – she enjoyed herself much more than she thought she would, but was still leaving the building empty handed.

"I'm positive you would have left this store with that G if he hadn't been so ungodly expensive." She was probably right, Frisk wasn't willing to admit. "Hey, that Sansy you first saw seemed to like you an awful lot. You won't have to pay an arm and a leg to walk out of here with him, and Sansies aren't bad singers at all if you can prompt them into it."

"I still don't think I'm ready to adopt a bitty, though." She confessed, knowing that the G being out of her reach was probably for the best - she probably would have made a very rash decision had it not been for that.

"Alright, then. You've held up your end of the deal, so now it's my turn. What do you want to eat for dinner, Frisk?"

"Okay, I've had hours to think about this, but I'm still not entirely sure." She mused, going over your favorite fast-food restaurants. "Maybe fried chicken? Burgers? Want to go get pizzas? I'm up for just about anything, really."

"Pizzas sound good! I'll get mine with pineapple!"

"Pizzas it is, then."

With that over and done with, she and Chara made their way to the door. The moment Frisk stepped outside, though, a scream pierced the air around them.

"NOOOOOOOO! DOOOON'T GOOOOOOOOOO!"

The next thing they knew, the two of them spotted a bitty, a hysterically sobbing Blueberry, sprinting across the floor at mach speed. And his targeted destination was the open door leading to the outside.

"Somebody stop him!" Webber had burst from the rescue room with a shout, spontaneously summoning an army of employees to catch the runaway bitty.

He dodged the swipes of their hands that came his way, leaping and skidding out of their impending grips until he had reached the doorway in literal seconds. Frisk probably should have closed the door instead of standing there gaping, but she had honestly froze up at witnessing the chaos unfolding around her and it all happened so fast.

Just when the bitty thought he was home free, she reached down and plucked him from the ground in one swift motion, the tiny skeleton screeching and struggling in her hold.

"LET ME GO! LET ME GO! THIS IS ALL SOME BIG MISUNDERSTANDING, YOU HAVE TO BELIEVE ME!" He persisted, the volume of his voice only getting louder and louder to the point that it nearly shook the windows. "SHE DIDN'T LEAVE ME HERE, SHE WOULDN'T EVER HAVE! NOT ON PURPOSE!"

His shouts of protest soon morphed into incomprehensible shrieks; nothing he said was making any sense anymore. As Frisk finally closed the door and began making her way towards Webber to return the emotional bitty, an abrupt pain shot through her. She let out a yelp, inadvertly tightening her grip around the Blueberry.

He had bit her.

And he had bit her hard, grinding his teeth against the thumb across his chest. It was drawing blood now, and it poured freely from her wound and down her wrist.

"Chara… I thought you said you never heard of one of these biting anyone!" Frisk managed to wheeze, tears beading at the corner of her eyes.

"I never have! …Until now!" She squeaked, trying to gently pry the bitty's mouth from her skin, to no avail.

Several other worried workers tried to coerce him into letting her go, their efforts proving useless. Frisk was certain that if he didn't release her soon she was going to die of bloodloss. The thought of pinching his nasal ridge and blocking his nostrils entered her mind, but would that even affect him? He's a skeleton monster – did they even need to breathe? Before she could settle on her next course of action, the Blueberry suddenly stilled. Slowly, he released her thumb from his maw.

He panted, eyesockets dancing across the room until they finally settled on her. Then he slowly turned his head downwards to look at Frisk's hand, blood still seeping from her thumb like a waterfall. His eyelights shrunk to miscroscopic pinpricks.

"I… I'M SO SORRY…" He choked, now full of remorse. "I… I DIDN'T MEAN TO… I…"

'Well, you did.' She wanted to snap after the pain he just put her through, but one look at his tearful expression made her think better of it.

Sighing, she slowly loosened her grip on him. His posture tensed, braced for what could be the worst. Instead of flinging him, Frisk pulled the distressed bitty to her shoulder and cradled him, rubbing little circles into his back with one finger.

"…It's alright. Just don't do it again, please. That really hurt."

He let out another agonized wail, ashamed. A fresh series of sobs escaped the Blueberry bitty as another string of apologies fell from his mouth. Each time it seemed he was close to calming himself, he would take a look at Frisk's bleeding hand or his bloodstained clothes and break out into another round. It wasn't long until her shirt had a large wet spot from where he had cried so much. Some of the employees tried to take him from her, but she batted their hands away, a bit irritated with them that they couldn't seem to comprehend that now was not the time for that.

When his howls finally died down to sniffles, Frisk had expected some sort of incoming explanation for his behavior, an attempt at saving face after that random violent episode, but instead he seemed more concerned with seeing that her injury was tended to.

Rather than Webber or one of the other employees getting her a roll of bandages or the like, they were rather insistent on getting the bitty to take care of it. Was that supposed to be some sort of punishment for biting her and causing the damage in the first place? It definitely hurt, she couldn't deny that, but he was clearly having a panic attack or something of the like when he did so, so she didn't think it was exactly fair of them to expect him to make up for something he didn't have any conscious control over.

Still, the Blueberry didn't argue with this decision, probably still too wracked with guilt to argue, she presumed.

Frisk waited, but there were still no rolls of bandages or any other type of medical supplies being passed off to the bitty. Just how was he expected to help her if they weren't going to give him anything to help her with…?

There was a noticeable lull in the space around them, Webber, the employees, and even Chara eyed the Blueberry bitty in her bloodied hand with anxious expressions; hopeful, but nervous.

Before Frisk could question this, he then placed his mouth over the gaping wound in her thumb, making her gasp at the sudden contact, since the last time he had done so, it was to bite her, even if unintentionally.

He was kissing her – kissing her thumb to be precise. And despite being a skeleton, a magical skeleton monster, but a skeleton nonetheless, it felt very much like an actual kiss should have felt.

And Frisk being Frisk, inexperienced in the ways of regular and expected physical contact, could only let out an undignified squawk at the gesture, her gaze bouncing around to every person present, and she at a complete loss on what to do in this situation. …Why was no one explaining anything to her?!

The miniature skeleton pressed his bony lips more firmly to her wound, and suddenly, the room was bathed in a faint cerulean light. Her bleeding had ceased, and the wound itself seemed to have shrunk somewhat in size, but when he pulled away, there was still a certain pain present in the affected area. It would probably be sore and bruised over in the next few days.

"…THAT'S THE BEST I CAN DO AS OF NOW. I'M SORRY…" He lamented, looking far more exhausted than he had been before.

"Th-That's alright. Thank you for healing me…" She stuttered, grateful for his effort anyway.

His eyesockets drooped; he staggered and swayed in her hand, latching onto Frisk's other fingers for support. She had heard of certain monsters possessing healing magic, but how effective it was depended on their statistics, specifically their HoPe. Father was an excellent healer. So was mother, but Toriel had experienced so much tragedy through the years that her healing magic wasn't as effective as it used to be.

But for this monster to be this worn down after using that little amount of magic, his HoPe must be severely low…

The employees were still fluttering around her, ready to take him from Frisk's hold. However, when one strayed to close, the Blueberry let out a soft gasp and leaped to cling to her drenched top. Such a reaction would be concerning if it wasn't for the apologetic and sheepish expressions on their faces when he did so. They looked worried for the both of them.

"Y-YOU'RE NICE… YOU DIDN'T GET MAD AT ME, EVEN AFTER I BIT YOU. I… I DIDN'T MEAN TO! BUT I'M NOT SUPPOSED TO BE HERE RIGHT NOW." His voice dropped to a near whisper. "She said I had a home with her… She promised…"

Frisk thought she had an idea of what had caused this bitty to have an emotional meltdown. From the sound of it, this bitty had a previous owner, but he had been returned here against his will.

It was a tragic situation, but bringing him back to the adoption center was a far better fate than being neglected and abused or set free where anything could happen to him.

"W-WERE YOU LEAVING BEFORE?" The bitty asked, one tiny fist inadvertly clenching the fabric of her shirt. "DO YOU… DO YOU REALLY HAVE TO GO NOW…?"

She and Chara had just been about to leave, but abruptly handing him off to the employees now after all that just seemed wrong. He clearly still needed some form of reassurance, some form of comfort, and for whatever reason, this bitty felt that Frisk was the one who could give that too him at this moment.

She cradled him against her shoulder and rubbed a finger down his spine. "I can stay for a little while longer."

And just that was enough for the Blueberry to relax somewhat – he already looked far calmer than he had been mere seconds ago. He clung to and nuzzled against her as an employee pointed her towards a cozy but spacious room to the left – the bitty interaction area. It was getting late into the evening so there shouldn't be as many customers as there would have been when she and Chara first arrived earlier, but the room was conveniently empty. She settled herself onto a plush couch, the low volume of the TV serving as white noise.

"…Do you have a name?" Frisk asked after a few silent minutes of holding the bitty.

"NO. NOT ANYMORE." He answered, his tone listless. "I'VE HAD MANY NAMES. BUT THEY AREN'T MINE NOW. AND WHEN I DO HAVE ONE… I NEVER GET TO KEEP IT FOR LONG BEFORE I HAVE TO GIVE IT BACK."

"Didn't the adoption center ever give you one?" She asked, remembering Rondo, Edgeworth, Bebop, and less pleasantly Chopper – they lived here and they had names.

"NO! I DON'T WANT A NAME FROM THE CENTER. I WANT ONE FROM MY OWNER. I REFUSE TO ACCEPT ANY NAME UNLESS IT'S FROM MY OWNER!" His voice rose, causing her to jump a little.

At feeling Frisk's body jerk, the bitty flinched himself, ashamed of his sudden outburst.

He had been adopted and returned several times – did he even know how many times his hope had been raised only to be dashed when he was once again coralled into a carrier and returned to the familiar center? He had lost count long ago. Numbers were meaningless to him now.

Many would argue that awaiting adoption in a store where all his needs were tended to meticulously by a caring staff was a merciful existence compared to those who were mistreated or abused by their owners when they were no longer wanted, but he couldn't find it in himself to look at his situation from that perspective.

The Blueberry knew there were far more unfortunate bitties than himself in the world, but the pain and longing in his SOUL for companionship just became too much some days that it felt as though he were slowly withering away and nobody noticed or cared.

Frisk wondered what it was about this specific Blueberry that caused him to be adopted out and returned numerous times.

Chara had been visiting the center since it opened; she was probably aware of his story. Even so, Frisk felt that to ask her would be an invasion of his privacy. Chara hadn't followed them into the room in order to give the pair privacy, but right now Frisk found herself at a loss on what to do and wished her friend were here to guide her in this predicament she'd found herself in.

It was obvious to her, even though he hasn't said anything yet, that the Blueberry without a name was already growing attached. Frisk hadn't come here looking to adopt, and if she felt that she couldn't provide for a healthy bitty, then she certainly wasn't equipped to provide for a bitty that was clearly emotionally damaged and possibly unstable.

But… she could understand his pain all too well.

Frisk was never friends with someone for long before suddenly they removed themselves from her life altogether. It was always for some reason or another, but the sole constant among them was their reason for withdrawing was placed solely on her shoulders – it was always her fault, something that she said or did. Just her. The only person that never ran away, placed blame on, or took advantage of her was Chara. And even then, Chara had to fight tooth and nail to get the other girl to accept her friendship. Frisk had been hurt so many times, she had began erecting barriers around herself to avoid others, no longer trusting. She had lowered them for her, but never since has this happened again.

But this bitty, unlike her, had never truly lost hope. He graciously opened the doors to his SOUL whenever a new owner entered his life, despite everything he experienced thus far, because the fear of turning away someone that might truly come to love him vastly overweighed the fear of being hurt once again. And hurt again he was – time and time again.

The two sat in silence, but not an uncomfortable one. It was a peaceful calm.

"…ENOUGH ABOUT ME. WHAT'S YOUR NAME?" He had timidly asked after shouting at her.

"…Frisk."

"THAT'S A NICE NAME."

"No it's not. It's weird."

He only shook his head once with a gentle smile, saying softly before falling into silence, "I like it."

Frisk's gaze was on the TV in front of them, but she wasn't really paying attention to the program playing on the screen at all. Her thoughts were swimming, thinking of everything and nothing all at once.

She hadn't noticed that, shortly after his outburst, the Blueberry bitty in her company had moved from clinging to her shoulder to her chest, directly over where her heart resided. He was listening to the rhythm of her heartbeat, nearly lulled into slumber with the combination of her absentminded strokes beginning at the back of his skull and ending at his lower spine. Up and down. Slowly.

She was also unaware of the faint glowing of her SOUL at this time, as well as his. Both were so absorbed in their thoughts and emotions, neither noticed. Glow and fade. Glow and fade. Brightened then dimmed. Brightened and dimmed. The two's SOULs flickered in perfect sync with each other – a SOUL resonance.

Only monsters and humans that shared a strong bond with each other could perform such a feat, and the two were entirely unaware of it. Their feelings were unconciously shared with one another, his and her pain and hardships were conveyed to one another in a language that stretched beyond vocalization, a conversation without the need for words.

Their SOULs spoke with each other in a manner unlike either had ever experienced before, as if comforting one another. Frisk found herself feeling more at ease with herself and the world. And now bearing knowledge of the tender secrets her guarded SOUL was whispering to his, he felt as though this human had been specially crafted by the heavens above solely for him – a reward just for him for his longstanding and unwavering faith.

He wondered if such thoughts could be considered selfish, even delusional, but he couldn't stop them. His SOUL was calling out to him, nearly shouting, telling him – "She's the one. She's the owner you've been looking for. She came for you."

And it did seem as though fate itself and the forces that be alligned just to make this meeting possible. An injured young woman who held no interest in bitties appearing before him, encountering her just as she was about to leave, perhaps forever, and she showing interest in him, being gentle towards him when he had not been to her. She was kind to him even after injuring her. Understanding when he couldn't properly heal the wound he caused despite his best efforts. And now she was spending time with him, holding him close against the most vital part of her human body, even though she had been about to leave before meeting him.

He wondered if this was what love felt like. It had to be.

The bitty lifted his head to gaze at her, his baby blue eyelights shifting into pulsating hearts throbbing in time with the beat of her heart and the synchronized wavelength of their SOULs.

Frisk happened to peer down just as he did so and stilled like a deer in the headlights, immediately taking notice of the expression of pure affection on his little porcelain doll-like face. He was staring up at her expectantly, like nearly all of the other bitties she had interacted with today. Except this expectant stare reached an entirely new level of intensity by far.

And all Frisk could think was 'this wasn't suppose to happen. This shouldn't be happening.'

But it was.

Taking a deep breath, she moved him away from her chest. He instantly found himself missing the warmth, but settled into the palm of her hand and took hold of her thumb, showing caution in avoiding her injury when nuzzling against the digit. He wasn't showing any awareness of the somber and regretful mood encompassing the human holding him, his tiny hands stroking over the wounded flesh with a feather light touch so as not to aggravate it further.

His oblivious gestures of adoration only made what Frisk was about to do more difficult.

"…Isn't it about time for the shop to close for the evening?" She asked, her voice more faint than she wanted it to be. "Shouldn't you be getting settled for the night?"

His eyelights immediately lost their heart shape, turning into wobbly spheres as he stared at her in disbelief.

"...WHAT?" He questioned, unblinking. "B-BUT I THOUGHT…"

"Yes. I know what you thought…" Frisk bit her lower lip, nearly puncturing it as she did so in her nervousness. "But I didn't come here today to adopt a bitty. I can't adopt any of you. I'm not the right person."

"T-THAT ISN'T TRUE!" He protested, his hands fluttering over his ribcage. "I FELT IT! YOU'RE THE RIGHT PERSON FOR ME! MAYBE THE ONLY ONE! YOU'RE THE ONLY ONE FOR ME! MY SOUL TOLD ME SO! A-AND YOURS… DIDN'T YOU FEEL ANYTHING LIKE THAT TOO…?"

She had felt something similar indeed. A SOUL resonance was the equivalent of one SOUL tenderly embracing the other – it wasn't something total strangers could do with each other, in theory. It was a gesture that involved meaning. A strong emotional bond; platonic, familial, or romantic, had to exist between the individuals involved. But Frisk had experienced a feeling of kinship with him, empathizing, it was almost like a feeling of finally finding the place where one belonged after endless searching. But it was the very fact they so easily and effortlessly resonated that scared her.

"YOU DID FEEL SOMETHING SIMILAR, DIDN'T YOU?" The Blueberry bitty in her palm smiled almost manically, but his eyes were pleading and glazed over with tears. "YOU UNDERSTAND HOW I FEEL, AND I FEEL THE SAME AS YOU. THAT'S WHY OUR SOULS RESONATED WITH EACH OTHER'S WITHOUT ISSUE! IT WAS A PERFECT RESONANCE WITHOUT FLAW! SO WE'RE PERFECT FOR EACH OTHER!"

"No. You're wrong." She weakly shook her head. "The fact that our SOULs resonanced at all is exactly why this can't work. I've… been hurt. My HP is low. And yours is too. I felt it. You need someone with high HP; someone that will share their HoPe with you, someone that will raise yours instead of bringing it down further. And I'm not the person that can do that for you. I'm not what you need. Do you… understand?"

Frisk was expecting wailing or an extreme meltdown like when he attempted to escape the center earlier, but all he did in response to her rejection was tilt his head slightly downwards to avoid her serious gaze, tears streaming down from the corners of his eyesockets as he responded in a quiet, fragile, and defeated whisper,

"NO… I DON'T UNDERSTAND. NOT AT ALL…"

The Blueberry bitty didn't struggle or make any further protest when she brought him to the front desk to return him under the staff's continued care, telling herself that this was the best she could do for him. It didn't matter how easily their SOULs resonated with one another – the easier he could resonate with her, the more unmatched they were, she thought. He needed someone that could show and give him what she never could – HoPe.

And what a cruel irony it was – she had given him more HoPe than anyone he had ever met and probably ever would in the future, if he still had one, that is.

He didn't need someone with an outpouring of HoPe.

He needed her.

"I truly hope, with all my heart and SOUL, that you'll find the owner right for you." She said before leaving him, but he didn't offer her a single reply, only a blank and emotionless stare.

He already found the right owner for him.

And she was going out that door, out of his SOUL's reach.

His eyes were trained on her as she left the center with Chara, staring at her for as long as he was allowed before Webber scooped him up to carry him back to the rescue room for the evening.

He wondered if he would live to see the sun again tomorrow morning. Nothing seemed to matter anymore now.

~~~~~~~~~~

Chara stepped towards the bus stop, but a slight tug on the sleeve of her sweater stopped her.

"Can we… take the long way home…?" Frisk asked, her emotional exhaustion plain and visible in her expression.

"…If that's what you really want." She answered, having thought that her friend might want to sit down for a spell after everything she had experienced today.

Frisk was tired. So tired. But she felt the need to move, to walk away with her own two legs even though they felt heavy as lead.

She and Chara trudged down the sidewalk, about five miles away from their street and night vast approaching, but their town was safe and both of their parents had been informed they might be returning home late, so they weren't in any hurry.

And Chara could tell Frisk needed some quiet time. She didn't say a word as they walked home, knowing the other's mind was likely plenty noisy at the moment. Frisk's eyes were far off and distant, meaning her thoughts were anywhere but here, and if Chara were to guess, she would be more than willing to bet on the probability of her thoughts being on a lonely Blueberry bitty at the adoption center they just left.

She was disappointed when Frisk had returned him to the establishment, but she understood that her reason for doing so was out of kindness. Even so, she was worried. For the both of them, and was left wondering if this truly was for the best like Frisk insisted.

They were now passing through a farmers market, the shopkeepers still pushing for sales despite the late evening hour, but it wouldn't be long before they too would be packing up their produce for the night and returning to their own homes. Frisk lifted her heavy head and spotted one of the straw-hatted vendors with a Farmy bitty sitting on his shoulder and swinging his legs as he nibbled on a cherry tomato.

Her heart hurt. Her SOUL hurt.

She really had wanted to take him home with her.

She argued with herself that this was for the best, that Blueberry would soon find an owner just for him, that would love and never abandon him, that would give him everything he needed that she couldn't ever hope to provide.

She continued to tell herself this as a plethora of unpleasant thoughts and scenarios plagued her mind.

"When a monster's HP drops to zero, they dust."

When she handed him over to Webber, he had been silent, limp, and listless, when his reaction to rejection, as she previously observed, had been a loud outburst of screaming and tears and a violent flailing of skeletal limbs.

His eyelights had looked dull and lifeless when she left, and all she could picture now was the morbid image of the spider monster checking up on him in the morning only to find a small pile of dust where he had tucked him in the night before.

Frisk was quietly sobbing before she knew it.

She recalled the loving expression on his face as she held him close to her in comfortable silence, their SOULs resonating just as he had said they did, perfectly and without flaw. Frisk despised such words as 'perfection' and 'flawless' because such things didn't exist in human beings or even monsters, but there truly was no other manner in which to describe it.

She had been everything he had ever wanted. And he was everything she wanted too.

And she had just ignorantly thrown that connection away. Tossed it aside.

…Why did she ever think what he needed was an owner with substantial HoPe?

Couldn't they heal each other?

Frisk's steps screeched to a grinding halt. Chara turned towards her, concerned and prepared to ask what was wrong with her friend, but before the first syllable could leave her lips, Frisk swiftly turned around and ran with more purpose than she ever had before in her life.

She raced through the farmers market, not hearing Chara's questioning cries and pleas for her to slow down as Frisk's pace quickened ever further. Frisk was bumping into every person that crossed her path, and she was far too focused to apologize at this moment, but she did acknowledge that she may have knocked over one vedor's cart in her rush to get to her destination.

"MY CABBAGES!"

Yes, she most definitely knocked over that cart, she realized.

But there was no time to stop! She could do that later. If she stopped now, or even slowed down, she might be too late!

She reached the adoption center within minutes, wrapping her hand around the door's handle and praying that they hadn't closed and locked up for the night. They hadn't, but even if they had, the lock would have given in easily from the force with which she swung the door.

Ignoring the alarmed reactions from the staff, she made a beeline for the very room she had walked out of the first time that day filled with fear, the second sorrow, and now inside with DETERMINATION.

She slammed open the door to the rescue room with a resounding echo, which probably wasn't the best thing she could have done in a room reserved solely to injured and anxious bitties, but all caution had been thrown to the wind at this point. Her eyes scanned over the pens until she found her bitty. She immediately bent over the glass wall that came up to her chest in height and reached down to snag the Blueberry, nearly falling in the enclosure with him in the process.

He gave a startled squeak at being grabbed so suddenly, but any sense of fear within him vanished and was promptly replaced with confusion once he saw the face of the human who held him.

"…FRISK? BUT I THOUGHT-"

"I thought so too! B-But I was wrong! I want you!" She shouted, nearly choking on a sob as she cradled him with quaking hands. "I may not be what you need, but… I want you. I want you to come home with me."

He said nothing, didn't offer a single word of reply – but the smile that stretched across his skull and reached his eyes, crinkling with happiness as a fresh wave of tears began beading at the corners of his eyesockets, only this time out of pure joy was a sufficient enough answer for her.

A small crowd composed of the center's staff had formed outside the door, the spectators whispering amongst each other and shoving one another aside to get a glimpse of what was happening inside the room between human and bitty. A hush fell over the group and they began to part when Webber pushed through the gathered employees to investigate what the ruckus was about. He had been in the back of the store when Frisk suddenly barged in, so all he had heard was the front door being slammed open and the sound of several footsteps shuffling around. Thankfully there hadn't been any screaming at the moment, otherwise he would have called the police over something entirely harmless.

His many eyes watched both Frisk and the Blueberry bitty for a minute, taking in the sight as both bawled, but their faces were unmistakably happy. He slowly approached the two, not wanting to break the reverie before him, but it was necessary for him to do so.

Frisk raised her head up to look at him, having sunken to the floor onto her knees long ago in her wave of happiness, regret and relief.

"I-I'll give anything I have on me for him." She said, digging in her purse with her free hand to retrieve her wallet. "I'll pay whatever price you want! Just please let me take him home…"

Webber gnawed on one of his claws in thought – while it was true that all bitties had an adoption fee, money wasn't the issue here. Adopting a bitty from the rescue room was a serious matter. Usually there was a long list of protocols involved; the adopter had to have visited the center frequently for a period of six months at the very least, the adopter had to undergo a thorough background check, the bitty was required to be taken in for check-ups by the staff, and then there were all the procedures that had to be undergone before a rescued bitty was given the mark of approval to be adopted.

But… Frisk was Chara's sister. Chara had been a volunteer at the center for well over a year, and she spoke nothing but good things about her sister. Everyone who worked there knew Frisk's name and what she looked like. The staff probably knew more about her than Frisk's colleages ever had during her years of schooling ever had. And Chara had brought her there today hoping for her to adopt – if Chara trusted Frisk with a bitty, then she could be trusted by the staff with this particular Blueberry.

Webber shook his head and sighed, but he was grinning. "I'll go get the adoption papers."

While the small crowd of employees whooped and cheered, the front door burst open for the second time that evening. Chara stood there, panting and gasping for breath while covered in a thick sheen of sweat. It took her several moments and downing a whole bottle of water later for her to say anything. Once she had regained her breath, the workers caught her up to speed with what happened while the two were seperated.

"Frisk… I'm so happy… for the both of you…" She sputtered, leaning against the counter exhaustedly. "You finally found the bitty for you, and Blueberry's finally gonna have his forever home… A happy ending… Yaaaay…"

Chara nearly collapsed from her fatigue, but Webber and another employee caught her before she could fall, documents scattering everywhere as the spider monster had dropped them in his haste to get to her.

"No. Not a happy ending." Webber disagreed with a chuckle, papers fluttering around them. "This is their happy beginning."

Frisk quickly began filling out the adoption papers once they had all been gathered. Chara had already purchased nearly everything she would need to care for a bitty since she had been so sure that Frisk would be leaving this building with a pygmy skeleton monster in hand – and she was right. The only thing Chara hadn't bought was clothes, since she had no idea which type of bitty Frisk might adopt. While Frisk read over and signed the documents, Chara ran to the clothing section and back to show both new owner and bitty what the store had for sale. By the time they had selected enough clothing and got it paid for, she was on the last piece of paperwork.

"Now the only thing left to do is to give him a name and print it on the dotted line there." Webber instructed; how many times had he been through this scenario before with this same bitty? Unlike the previous occasions, he held high hopes that this would be the last time the lonely Blueberry would ever have to go through the lengthy adoption process.

Frisk tapped the end of her pen against the table in thought – she turned to the bitty seated next to her on the cool marble surface.

"I'LL BE HAPPY WITH WHATEVER NAME YOU CHOOSE. I REALLY DON'T HAVE ANY PREFERENCES OR OBJECTIONS TOWARDS MY NAMING – AS LONG AS IT IS CHOSEN WITH LOVE."

Even so, Frisk felt that his name needed to be special, something that was unique but wouldn't isolate him either. Something inspired…

"…Crescendo." She murmured, jotting it down on the dotted line before she could stop herself.

"Crescendo?" Chara inquired, looking at Frisk then down at the Blueberry bitty.

"Is that alright with you?" Frisk asked him, genuinely wanting his opinion.

"I… I LOVE IT. IT'S PERFECT…" He began sniffling again and Chara handed him a torn piece of tissue.

"Crescendo. It's a wonderful name." Webber agreed, taking the stack of papers from her.

Crescendo. The name resonated with her, because from this point onward, that word would resemble their HoPe. Crescendo - gradually rising; together.

And with that, Chara, Frisk and her new bitty friend Crescendo left the adoption center in higher spirits.

"See, you didn't believe me before, but I told you that for every good person there was a bitty out there for them!" Now that the drama was over, Chara believed that she had earned the right to brag.

"Okay, sure. You were right and I was wrong." Frisk admitted, flicking Chara on the nose. She stuck her tongue out at that.

"But I do still owe you dinner and there's just enough time left to go get something before Dad and Toriel call the cops to come looking for us. Are we still getting pizza?"

Frisk nodded. "What about you, Crescendo? Is pizza alright for dinner with you?"

"…CERTAINLY! I'D LOVE SOME!"

Frisk didn't miss that hesitant pause before he answered.

"You say that, but what you really want is tacos, right?"

He flinched, eye sockets wide with disbelief. How had she known?

"Look, I know that you agreed with me because you thought I'd be happy, but don't do that. You don't have to pretend to like what I do because you're afraid of how I'll react. You don't have to change at all, okay?"

"…OK." He said at last, feeling his SOUL flutter.

"So, do you want to take the bus, or do you want to go to the pizza place and the taco place then take the long way home?" Chara questioned.

"You mean after all that running, you're still asking?" Frisk raised an eyebrow at Chara's disheveled hair.

Chara shrugged. "A moonlight walk might be nice."

"While carrying two pizzas and a bag of tacos?" Frisk eyeballed.

"Whatever! Do you want to take the bus or not?" Chara huffed.

"Well-"

"Ah-ha! You didn't think I would, but I finally caught up to you!" A sudden loud voiced called out to them.

And there stomping up the sidewalk towards the two girls was the merchant from the farmer's market, foaming at the mouth with a Farmy bitty sitting on his shoulder wearing a tilted straw hat, a narrowed gaze, and his skeletal arms crossed.

"THOSE WERE MY CABBAGES!" He shouted, his declaration echoing through the empty street.

He stepped ever closer to them and they backwards, both girls holding their hands up defensively.

"Frisk, what do we do…?" Chara whispered fearfully.

"YOU HAVE BROKEN THE CELERY STALK ON THE BACK OF A SEA URCHIN! FOR THIS YOU MUST-"

"Bus! Bus, bus, bus! WE TAKE THE BUS!" Frisk yelled.

She grabbed Crescendo and tucked him inside the safety of her purse before retrieving her wallet and zipping him up within. She opened the wallet and threw the remainder of her money at the man as a distraction then grabbed Chara by the arm and dragged her onto the conveniently parked bus on the other side of the street. The bus then took off, the three having made their getaway and were on their way to finally getting dinner.

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