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mermaidcashton · 4 years

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i hate to admit it

author: claire (@mermaidcashton) ship: michael clifford/reader prompt/AU: this is a gift for the wonderful @h0tsos who wanted soft, subby Michael in an enemies to lovers capacity (and i snuck some coffee shop!au in there as well, and some weebness because, well, it’s Steff and Michael) wordcount: 4k+ warnings: swearing, alcohol mentions, explicit sexual content a/n: • written for @maluminspace & @h0tsos ‘s 5sos fic writers collab (which was a gift exchange this time around) • i do not give permission for this (or any of my writing) to be reposted, by anyone, on this or any other website. please don’t do it! • title from ‘this means war’ by mariana’s trench • ‘my hero academia’ is a manga/anime series. there are references to it and a few of the characters in this but you don’t need to know anything about it to understand what’s going on.

i hate to admit it *** “So, they’re like...superheroes?”

Luke sipped on his glass of rosé, nodding like he understood whilst making a face that showed he absolutely did not.

“Yeah, dude, pretty much!” Michael nodded along with your co-worker with so much enthusiasm he looked like one of those dogs people put on their dashboards. Except less cute. Wait, no - not cute. Definitely not cute at all. Good save, you. Couldn’t have your own internal monologue thinking you felt anything for the moron you were forced to work with 3 times a week was anything more than an annoyance you had to endure. With a butt that wouldn’t quit. Dammit, self!

Michael took advantage of Luke showing an interest in his (and yours) favourite anime, and began bombarding him with half baked theories, predictable favourite scenes and shitty character analysis. He nearly knocked his own hat off as he flailed his hands around in an attempt at explaining the dynamics of a battle from the second season. Luke smiled politely.

You snorted into your drink as you drained the last of it; you were definitely going to need another. If Michael started fanboying over Deku again, you were going to scream.

As you placed the empty bottle onto the wood of the coffee table, you took another glance around the apartment you were in. You’d never been up here before, despite spending a minimum of 20 hours a week in the coffee shop downstairs. But after this evening’s staff meeting tackling such issues as ‘who forgot that milk needs to be kept in the fridge overnight’ (Luke), ‘who is putting too much whipped cream on hot chocolates’ (Michael), and ‘who wrote ‘THIS COFFEE IS HOT, BUT U R HOTTER ❤ ) on a customers caramel macchiato’ (Luke again), Ashton had invited you all upstairs for a ‘employee chill’. You had been surprised a week or so into your employment when you had found out that the manager was also the owner who lived in the apartment above Screamin’ Beans; he was only in his mid twenties, but the more you’d experienced his drive and determination, the more your surprise had dwindled. Ashton really was a great guy, with one big flaw; Michael. They had been best friends for years, hence him moving into the apartment when he came back into town and the job Ashton had given him; which in your humble opinion was the equivalent of setting a monkey loose on the milk frother.

Michael had sealed his fate with you the same day he’d started work. He arrived 10 minutes late (from upstairs), sleepy eyed and shy smiled. His fluffy blonde hair was spilling out of his beanie, and he kept biting his very pink lip bottom with sharp little teeth. The way he pronounced your name was adorable. You’d burned your hand on the espresso machine. Strike one. Things unravelled quickly after that. He was ‘too shy’ to take orders and work the register so you were stuck there all day talking to goddamn customers about why it wasn’t a good idea to have 3 pumps of every syrup while he hid behind silver machinery and dirtied way more jugs than you deemed necessary. Strike two. And then he’d dropped a latté into that ladies bag - sorry, very expensive bag. Michael had let out a ‘uuuhhh’ sound like a malfunctioning robot without moving for so long that the furious customer had stopped trying to yell at him and focused her rage on you instead. When he had eventually come to whatever passed for his senses, Michael had power walked into the employee bathroom and didn’t return until Calum arrived to join the shift and assured him the woman had left, twenty minute later. You were beyond strikes. You’d been so sure you could talk Ashton into scheduling you together as little as possible. There was no reason to put you down to work nearly every shift together, especially shifts where only two staff were on! Except, apparently there was because he kept fucking doing it. Every time you pressed Ashton on it, he’d say something about how he needed Michael ‘trained by the best’, or ‘matching availabilities’, or he thought their ‘energies combined well; auras are meshing, y’know?’ The one might have been on you for catching him as he was returning from his Vibe Check Yoga class at the studio down the street.

He’d also emphasised that Michael needed more friends now he was back in the city, and you two had loads in common! You both liked pop punk! You’d rolled your eyes. And Italian food! A ‘tch noise. And anime! Okay, you’d bite.

The next time you’d gone into work, you’d engaged Michael in a conversation about ‘Tokyo Ghoul’ and recommended ‘Demon Slayer’; things started to pick up. You didn’t fantasise about locking Michael in the walk-in fridge the whole shift. And then…

“You watch ‘My Hero Academia’, right?” “Uh, yeah! I love it.” “Me too! I just ordered a Todoroki tee yesterday. And another Deku one, of course; gotta rep my main man!” “Oh..cool! He’s your favourite?” Of course Michael was a basic bitch. But hey, that’s fine. Deku was fine. He was the main character, after all. And he’s a little less whiny in the recent manga issues, you guess. And the way Michael’s face was right now - open, comfortable, lit up like the 4th of July? That was good, too. His eyes were so green. “Yeah! Who’s your favourite character?” “Well, I would die for a bunch of ‘em, but I’m a Bakugou girl at heart.” You laid a palm flat on your chest, choosing to ignore the feel of your heart beating faster than it had been five minutes ago beneath it. Michael wrinkled his nose. “Bakugou? But he’s like...he’s so mean! And angry!”

Oh no. You’d had this conversation before. You locked eyes with Michael, hoping he could see the warning in your eyes. Don’t do it, ho.

“Like, he’d probably make a better villain than hero!”

“You okay, boo?” Calum slid into the space on the couch beside you, holding out a fresh beer for you to take. “You look deep in thought.”

You hummed and accepted the bottle from him, letting go of your train of thought as you caught sight of Luke trying to prove he could get his overly long leg behind his head. Michael and Ashley F. were both actively trying to avoid getting kicked in the face with a sparkly boot, whilst Ashton was just monitoring the situation very intently; you’re not entirely sure when he last blinked.

You snorted again as Luke’s foot slotted into place in a position you were 85% sure he would not be able to get out of again without assistance, possibly from the emergency services.

“I’m fine. Gotta be one of us capable of thinking here, y’know.” You teased, looking sidelong at Calum. He laughed, rubbing a hand over his freshly shaved hair; he’d always been as easy to get along with as he was obnoxiously handsome. “Hey! You’re lucky I know you’re talking about the human pretzel over there! And I guess, your boyf-” Big brown eyes glittered at you over the hand you’d slapped over his mouth. “-fwendth.” Narrowing your own eyes at your friend, you hissed. “Shut up! I would rather die.” Calum waggled his eyebrows incessantly at you until you relented and dropped your hand. “You knew who I was talking about, though.” Ugh. Smug was not a good look on Calum. “You know, smug is not a good lo-oh fuck, is that the time?” The clock behind Calum’s head showed 8:58; your auction ended at 9:00. You fumbled into your bag for your phone, unlocking it and flicking straight to the app you needed. Phew - still the top bid. “Whatcha doin’?” Calum hooked his chin over your shoulder, blowing your hair out of his face before settling down.

“Bidded on a really cool, limited edition figure. One of my all time favourite anime characters. The auction is about to end.” You explained, making sure Calum could hear you other the cacophony of sounds associated with Luke trying to get his other leg behind his head. You both watched the seconds tick down, your username sitting securely by the words ‘Winning Bid’. At two seconds to nine, the page refreshed, then refreshed again; it was over.

‘Winning Bid: BIGRED69’ “Uh...what happened? That’s not you, right?” Calum asked, tilting his head to look at your face, and the rage it contained. BIGRED69. He’d done it again.

“Uh oh, Y/N - what’s wrong?” Ashton’s voice pulled you out of your internal screaming, and you looked up at him.

“She’s losing her weeb shit at a heavy eBay loss” Calum answered for you, nodding solemnly as he pulled away from you, giving you room to bonk him with a cushion. “Oh! That’s too bad, but that’s another thing you and Mikey have in common!” Ashton beamed. “Mikey!” Oh no. Oh no, no.

“Yeah?” Michael sloped over, getting his black boot caught on the corner of the leopard print rug as he did. Ashton caught him with an ease you suspected (knew) came from practice. “Why don’t you take Y/N to see your anime dolls? She collects them, too!” Ashton looked so pleased with himself and his suggestion for further ‘bonding’ for you and Michael, and Michael looked like he’d been force fed raw lemon at the phrase ‘anime dolls’, so you let it go on your own behalf. Except now Michael was waiting expectantly for you to follow him to his room and Calum was shoving you off of the couch to get you moving. Fuck your life. You sighed as you got up and started walking. “Fine, let’s go; you can show me your Todoroki body pillow and then we can get on with our lives.” Michael let out a small hiss like an angry kitten, his cheeks colouring a pretty pink. He spared a glance at everyone left in your wake. “I, um, don’t have a body pillow, you guys.” “Suuuuure!” You rolled your eyes, waiting for Michael to enter his bedroom so you could follow. The blonde flicked the light on and moved slightly further in so you could pass him, before shutting the door with a small ‘click’. You decided not to comment on this action, looking around at the posters on the walls and figurines on the shelves instead. You were undecided on whether or not you were going to comment on how cool a lot of Michael’s shit was. A ‘Full Metal Alchemist’ poster over his bed, a full shelf of Funko Pops from movies you loved, framed prints of album artwork by Waterparks and The Maine. Fuck. You were really aware of Michael staring at you with an almost hopeful (?) look on his face as you let your eyes travel around his room before he could show you his ‘anime dolls’. Fuck. Your stomach felt fluttery, and you thought you might have a serious problem here, before you caught sight of a very different problem on Michael’s desk.

A rare Kirishima Eijirou statue - box signed by the voice actor - you’d been outbid on last month. By BIGRED69. What were the chances a different one was sitting by Michael’s laptop?

“So,” You said, trying to keep your voice neutral and non-murderous. “Where do you get your collectibles from?” “Forbidden Planet, Tokyo Toys, eBay…” Michael rattled off, until you interrupted him. “Where did you get that one? Looks rare - it must have been difficult!”

“Oh! eBay! It was, but I have an app for it, so…” Michael grinned, looking pleased with himself. An app? “An automatic bidding app? You sniped me?! That’s cheating!” You squeaked; you could not believe this. It was unbelievable.

Michael blinked at you, head empty. “BIGRED69?!” You managed to make the world’s stupidest screen name sound like a terrible accusation. Which it was.

Comprehension dawned on his stupid, beautiful face all at once. “Oh my God! That was you that I’ve been fighting for this stuff? No way! But you didn’t know it was me?”

“Why the hell would I know it was you!” You threw your hands up, and Michael just stared dopily back at you.

“‘Bigred69?! Obviously I assumed you were 12!” Michael let out a squawk of protest, before folding his arms defensively across his chest.

“Clifford!” “What?” Michael’s tone became more insistent. “My last name! Clifford!” You pulled an exaggerated ‘so?!’ face, throwing your hand in the air again.

Michael had the unmitigated gall to huff, like you were the biggest idiot in the room; like he wasn’t always the biggest idiot in every room, all rooms, ever, in the history of rooms. “Clifford the Big Red Dog!” He said, insistence heavy in the words.

You often swore you could almost hear the old internet dial up tone trilling inside Michael’s brain when customers at the coffee shop asked him such difficult questions as “What dairy alternative milks do you carry?”, “Where is the bathroom?”, and even once - you swear - “What’s your name?”. In Michael’s defence, that last one had been asked in more flirtatious-than-not tone by a brunette who clearly had some kind of vision problem (he’d been dressed more horrendously than usual that day beneath his uniform apron; was that a utility vest?!), but had fluttered her eyelashes at your idiot colleague so hard, for so long, you’d been concerned she’d be leaving without what little vision she’d arrived with. But still. Idiot. Michael, not you. And yet, now it was you with your brain puttering through the information you had with the shrill electronic sound of the 90’s in your head. “Clifford the- are you for fucking real?” This could not be real life.

“It’s totally clever!” Michael asserted, continuing in earnest once you scoffed in reply. “No, listen! Because of Clifford, and also, I had red hair when I made it, and 69 is funny - it is! - and, well-” His face flushed slightly before he puffed his chest out a little, apparently deciding to commit to his defence of his screen name. “I’m big, so it works on like, loads of levels!”

This could not be happening to you. You were decidedly not standing in the bedroom of a coworker you simultaneously couldn’t stand and also couldn’t stop thinking about kissing as you restocked the counter fridges in the evenings, as he explained that his auction site handle was a combination of a previous dye job, an insinuation about his dick and a massive fucking dog. You could not let Michael have the upper hand here, but you were floundering. So you fell into more familiar, more pathetic territory.

“If you were called something like ‘deku-loving-loser’, then, sure - I would have known it was you!” “Who’s 12 now?!” “Uh, still you!” Okay, so this wasn’t your finest moment, but you were in it now. And you’d really wanted the Kaminari figure tonight. Michael didn’t even like him that much!

“The point is, you totally sniped me! And you get stuff about basic canon wrong! And your understanding of the characters is one dimensional! And, and...your hat is stupid!” Well, shit. In your defence, Michael’s hat was stupid. You could feel how hot your face was, and Michael’s eyes looking right at it was only making it worse. You couldn’t read his expression at all; he looked like he was searching for something, and you didn’t know what it was, or if he’d find it. You could only assume he had when he took the most decisive steps you’d ever seen him take, reaching you in two huge steps and cupping your face with both hands. Michael kissed in a way he didn’t do anything else; he felt sure and certain as he pressed his lips to yours, moving them with intent. Your brain became overtaken with television static almost immediately as you moved your mouth in time with his, opening your mouth immediately at the questioning press of his tongue. You had enough of yourself left aware to yank his stupid fucking hat off his head as you tangled your fingers in his blonde hair, Michael’s hands sliding down to clutch at your waist as you swayed with the kiss. As Michael pulled back ever so slightly, you took the opportunity to press your teeth into his plush bottom lip, the way you’d thought of doing in afternoon slumps on shift. The whine that came from deep in Michael’s throat made a split second decision for you.

You pulled back further from Michael, yanking your top off in one go and starting in on the buttons of his black shirt before he fully registered the sight of your bra and the top of your full breasts.

“Shit, Y/N, are you…” Michael trailed off as you pulled his sleeves down his arms, and the shirt off this body. Your eyes met his as you popped the button on his black jeans and placed your hand on his zipper. “Do you really want me to overthink this, Michael?” A moment’s pause, then he shook his head vigorously, leaning down to pull his boots off once you’d yanked his jeans to his knees. By the time he was left in his (funnily enough, black) boxer briefs, you’d discarded your own jeans and were knelt at the foot of his bed in your soft, lilac underwear. Michael’s breath hitched as his gaze drifted down your body, taking it all in under the artificial light of the room. “Get over here, Clifford…” You teased, trying not to second guess what was happening. Michael broke out of his trance and more or less threw himself onto the bed, settling his head on the pillows and pulling you on top of him for another kiss, and then another, and another. By the time you pulled back to catch your breath, your head was spinning. You braced yourself on your forearms on the bed, taking the time to admire Michael’s body beneath you.

You’d seen the tattoos on his pale, strong arms before, but they looked different in this context; the contrast between the milky skin and dark ink made your stomach swoop. The blonde hair on his head is also a contradiction; to the dark hair on his chest and the hair trailing down his stomach and disappearing under his waistband. Your mouth felt very dry as you let your gaze continue downward, to the straining bulge beneath the fabric.

You flicked your eyes back to meet Michael’s in question, your fingers suddenly resting on the waistband of his underwear. Michael swallowed thickly, and then nodded once before fixing you with a gaze of pure anticipation.

No use waiting around. You propped yourself up onto your knees over him and pulled on the fabric decisively, not stopping your motion until his underwear bunched up at his ankles. Holy shit.

You always knew Michael had to have at least one redeeming quality, and you’d finally found it. His cock was huge, hanging heavy and hard between his fuzzy thighs. The head was flushed the darkest pink you could ever remember seeing, and the slit was already shiny with precum.

If a voice in your head that sounded unfortunately like Calum pressed that Michael had lots of qualities you secretly found redeeming, you ignored it in favour of getting straight to business.

“FUCK! FUCKIN-”

Apparently, Michael hadn’t been prepared for you to take half of his impressive length into your mouth in one go. You sucked with intent, casting your eyes up to take in the sight of him. His pupils were already starting to blow, and you’d barely done anything. God, that was so sweet.

But then Michael threaded his fingers through your hair, his hand pressing ever so slightly into your scalp. The blonde wasn’t pushing down, but his grip was firm. You could feel the weight of his hand on the top of your head as you held his cock in your mouth, and that shit? Would not stand.

You grab the wrist brushing your hair a second before your other hand finds his idle one, fingers twisted loosely in the sheets. Once you’ve captured both wrists, you guide both to the same point above Michael’s hips, before slamming both into the mattress with purpose.

If you’d had time to think about it, you’re not sure how you would have expected Michael to react. He didn’t really put out the energy of a man who’d properly fight you for control, either in a domineering way or with more of an air of fragile masculinity. Perhaps a bit of questioning but ultimately compliant as long as he got his dick sucked. But the wanton moan that kicked out of Michael’s chest as you settled into a tight grip on his wrists where you had them pinned on the sheets with intent? That was unexpected. That was interesting.

Your mouth had remained still on his cock whilst you got his wrists pinned down, more cockwarming him than blowing him. But now you had him so pliant and under your control, it was go time. You pulled back up his cock, wrapping your lips tightly around the head of Michael’s cock, and sucked with gusto. Another groan from above you. You worked your tongue all the way around the head before pulling back enough to flick it into Michael’s sensitive slit. “Oh my fuuu- Y/N, God, I-” Michael was starting to writhe, his hairy legs rubbing into the sheets beneath you. You could feel his wrists moving along with the rest of his body, but you knew you’d made it clear you’d wanted him pinned, and he made no move to get his hand free. Good boy. You sank steadily back down Michael’s length, at least to the six inch mark, before pulling back up, hollowing your cheeks as you went. Back down a little further, then up, back to teasing the head, using your tongue. Michael couldn’t predict what you were going to do next, and it was clearly pushing all of his buttons. You could taste the precum that his cock kept kicking out into your mouth and throat, and see the flush spreading down his neck. By the time you’d pulled, drool beginning to build at the sides of your mouth, Michael was a mess, moaning as much as he was breathing. This could get addictive, you thought to yourself as you let your mouth drop to his balls, and your thumbs press into the pulse points on his wrists. You hummed before you released his left ball from your mouth with a wet pop, and that’s when Michael started begging. “Please, please, Y/N, I wanna-” he panted, cutting himself off over and over. “You’re so beautiful, lemme- God, fuck, it feels so amazing, you’re- I’ve been good, I’ll do anything, please…”

You pretend to consider his pleas as you dragged your tongue over his right ball, dipping into all the creases and leaving them wet behind you. Drawing back up onto your knees, you released one of his wrists so you could push his sweaty blonde bangs back from where it was plastered to his forehead, drinking in the vision before you. His green eyes were nearly completely black, blown out with arousal. The sheen on the skin of his face and body made him glow. His lips were chapped from his teeth tugging on them, and the pink of the matched the flush spread from his cheeks down his chest. And the wrist you were no longer restraining hadn’t moved a centimeter, still pressed firmly to the mattress. Michael was a good boy. And you knew how to treat good boys. With no preamble, you took Michael back into the wet heat of your mouth, relaxing your throat and not stopping until your nose was buried in the soft thatch of trimmed hair on his crotch. You took a moment to situate yourself and enjoy the deep whines bursting out of Michael’s throat into the quiet of his bedroom, before you began to move again, swallowing around his cock. You saw his thighs begin to tremble to the side of you before you heard him speak. “Fuck, fuck, Y/N, please, I’m gonna-” You hummed as hard as you could, pushing Michael’s wrists with that little bit more force into the bed as you did. Michael let out his loudest whine yet - bordering on a sob- as he came, shooting down your throat as he writhed beneath you.

You swallowed everything he gave you, and when you were sure he was finished, you pulled off slowly, and gently, releasing his wrists as you stood back up on your knees.

Michael looked blissed out, staring dreamily up at you with bright, adoring eyes. He still was yet to move his hands. “Hey.” “Hi.” You smirked down at him. “I believe I heard something about you’d ‘do anything’?” You shot a quick glance at the figurine on his desk, and down at yourself. “I had some ideas…”

collab masterlist • my masterlist

#5sos writing collab #my writing #mermaidcashton #5sos fic #5 seconds of summer fic #5sos #5 seconds of summer #michael clifford #michael 5sos #michael clifford x reader #michael 5 sos x reader #5sos x reader #michael clifford fic #michael 5sos fic

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freshouttaparsnips · 3 years

Photo

Reader is having a bad... life. Slim helps the only way he can.

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a comm fic for @sheewolf85 cause she’s been having a rough time <3333

tags: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Reader is not gendered, Reader is unnamed, Anxiety, Panic Attacks, Disabled Reader, Fat Reader, Short Reader, Good Boyfriend Slim, Reader is a weeb, Slim is a Weeb

read it on Ao3

or read it below!!!

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“You’ll find a real job one day, don’t worry about it.”

That’s what you’d heard the majority of your life, living with family and being around friends that didn’t really understand that you just… weren’t able to keep up with “real jobs”.

You had a bevvy of both emotional and physical issues, none of which were extremely terrible on their own (not that the neurotypicals would understand even if they were), but all together they made one hell of a horrid cocktail of hardship. Even if “other people” had it worse than you, you still struggled enough that actually working a regular, 9-5 job just wasn’t in the cards.

What you really wanted to do was write. It was your passion, your reason for living and creating. Yeah some of your “content” was on the darker side of the spectrum, but nothing about that made it any less fun to post what you’d written online just to see if anyone was going to get emotional because you’d nearly killed a main character off.

Which was, incidentally, how you met Papyrus.

He was into the same anime as you, which was how he found your fics in the first place. He loved the same characters, had some of the same ships (though the man had some wacky crack ships you wouldn’t even touch.)

To be completely honest, once the two of you had started talking over chat websites, you’d mostly hit it off about as perfect as it could have gone. The two of you just sorta… worked. He would commission you to write his ships you’d actually consider, and tipped crazy amounts for what he said were “masterpieces of literature”. You always told him off for it, but no matter how much you pleaded, he’d never let you give any of it back.

Once you realized that he lived no more than two hours from you, he mentioned a park you knew about and the two of you decided to meet up. For real.

It put butterflies in your stomach, thinking about meeting someone that had felt like nothing less than your soul mate for the past year. You knew he was a monster, that he was tall and had a deep, but kind voice. You’d done enough voice chats to know that he was a smoker, seeing as how he’d have a cig out after work when you usually chatted up.

He knew you were human, obviously with the questions you’d ask him about being a monster. He knew you weren’t that keen on your physical appearance, but not exactly what you looked like, and he knew that you were a little on the short side.

But as you walked into the clearing you’d agreed on, catching sight of a lanky skeleton monster standing at the end of the path, a bouquet of flowers in his hands, you almost didn’t believe it.

Not until he caught sight of you, wary hope in his eyes as he called out your name.

“Papyrus?” You answered, and a sparkle of real happiness lit in his eyelights as he all but jogged up to you, flowers forgotten at his side as he looked you up and down.

You were doing the same, noting that he looked… about how you figured he’d look. What from being from a Fellgrounds, the edgy nature of his outfit wasn’t that surprising. A dark purple sweater covered by a deep brown jacket, a crimson collar around his neck and a gold tooth replacing one of his canines. What was surprising was the cute bangle of a bracelet he was wearing around his wrist, the exact one you’d shipped him not 3 months before. On it were two charms, ones that were supposed to be a ship of his, but that he said reminded him of the two of you.

“I can’t believe this…” He murmured, smiling down at you, and you couldn’t help the tears that welled up in your eyes.

“Are those flowers for anyone special, mister skele man?” you teased, Papyrus chuckling as he held them up for you.

“Naw, just some fan I met online. I think we’re headed somewhere special, though.”

Blinking back the wet tears, you gently took them, sniffing once before gesturing with your cane down the short path. “Shall we then?”

And it went from there.

You’d eventually moved in together, when Papyrus found out about your money issues. He made bank, he claimed, so it made sense. Neither of you really thought about your relationship outside of the natural way you got together; cuddling on the slightly too small couch, making meals together as you bumped corners and laughed as you stepped on each other’s toes.

No, it was completely easy, loving Papyrus.

Which was why you had to wonder why it was so hard to love yourself.

You’d been getting a few not so great comments on a few of your last depression-fueled chapters, asking why you’d gone so down hill in your quality, and a few even asking if you’d copied a much more popular writer in fandom. It made your eyes sting with heat, reading them over and over until the words were burned into your mind.

It did nothing to help the low you were in, your body aching fiercely as you tried so hard to get out of bed that morning… only to fail miserably as you hoisted yourself onto your side into a more comfortable position.

Papyrus was out getting groceries, one of his self given chores, leaving you to make a sort of meal plan for the rest of the week based on what he was getting. He’d left you a list and everything, sitting on the kitchen counter downstairs, utterly ignored as you sighed heavily into your pillow.

You weren’t going to cry, not about this. Not whenever you were supposed to have thick skin as a writer. Criticism made you better, not worse, but… if that was the case, why did it hurt so much?

You had to wonder if there wasn’t just something extremely wrong with you. Surely there was, no one else would be crying because someone on the internet said something mean.

You didn’t deserve this life. Didn’t deserve living with your soulmate, didn’t deserve living in your own house with any food you could want at your beck and call, didn’t deserve Papyrus .

Blinking back the tears as they came, you choked on a sob as you thought about it. Papyrus didn’t deserve to be saddled with you, didn’t deserve your fat, ugly, lazy ass sleeping in his bed and eating his food while you did next to nothing to pay the bills.

You didn’t hear the front door open downstairs, didn’t hear Papyrus call your name and hurry up the stairs as he worriedly called for you again.

But as soon as you saw him come through the door, magic searching desperately for you, you sat up.

“I’m s-sorry, I-I’m sorr-ry, I’m-” you said over and over, sobbing ugly tears as Papyrus stepped forward instantly, silent as he gathered you up into his arms, holding you tightly to his chest. You kept saying them, apologies over and over for things you couldn’t name but knew he’d understand, he always understood.

Once you’d calmed down enough to feel shame, having to be coddled like a child by your boyfriend, Papyrus finally spoke.

“What are you sorry for?”

It was the worst question he could have possibly asked, but you owed him an answer. “Being a-a hor-rible partner.”

He shook his head, nuzzling into your hair in the way that never failed to make you melt.

“No, there’s no reason to apologize for that. Anything else?”

You stared off into space, befuddled. “For… for taking up your space?”

Papyrus grunted. “Nope. No reason for that either. Got a better one?”

Now you were squinting at the wall, brows furrowed. “I don’t know, for being a burden on you? I don’t pay any bills, I barely have enough to help with food and get my meds, I can’t help clean every day, I really need a bath and I’m sure I stink but you’re holding me anyways because I’m a big baby- ”

You stopped, taking in a deep breath, letting it out slowly as Papyrus’ grip around you loosened, just enough for him to stare down at you. The love in his eyes, the pure adoration nearly made you take another breath.

“Babe, I’m still not hearing any legitimate reasons for you to be sorry. You help with what you’re able, and because you got shit luck, that’s not a lot by healthy terms, but guess what?” He leaned down, kissing you lightly on the nose. “I don’t care about all that.”

You stared hard up at him. “You don’t?”

“Nope!” He answered brightly, before snuggling down with you on the bed. “Cause I got the best luck when I found you.”

Your mouth was open, eyes wide as you started crying again, only this time Papyrus was there to wipe away the tears, gently holding you as you kissed him.

#fresh writes #undertale #papyrus/reader #swapfell papyrus/reader #fluff #hurt/comfort #anxiety #panic attacks #self deprecation #but Slim is a good bf no worries

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randomoranges · 3 years

Text

the plot: actual Legit Things Happening in the BG taro: too self absorbed to worry about those.

also, the song mentioned in this part is real. i removed the name of the artist because someone might google the artist’s name and then make a bigger and further association with past weeb me and im still not ready for That lamao. (it’s nothing Big or Bad or whatever. i was just really obsessed with this show as a young tween and i still feel second hand embarrassment thinking about it to this day.)

however, this song, i could never find a link to downloand it or whatnot. it had been on some persons website but i couldn’t download it from there and when i searched i could never find it. i think it was finally this summer or last summer that i tried again and i finally FOUND IT.

also i swear in the word doc, i legit had a little music note emoticon next to the line; look.

So Totally OP!

Part 13

I backed up into a wall and glanced at Jake, silently asking him to save me and confirm that he too had just witnessed this atrocity. Jake also wore a traumatized expression. Not only was this man ugly as my grandmother’s wrinkled prunes, but he was too obsessed with money and that was what made him scary. Why had she hired this – abomination?!

“Get away from me! I just got my hair done and might I add, Jake you’ve really outdone yourself. Now please, I need my personal space. You’re in my perfect bubble right now.” Daniel didn’t seem to understand English. He just continued yapping about money and savings. This man was a total disgrace to society!

“All right, I’ll try to say this one more time, if you don’t get away from me, I’ll make sure that OP loses 1,100 dollars instead of saving it.” I tried instead. Maybe, if I spoke his language he would understand. Immediately, the man closed his big mouth and he left. Maybe he hadn’t really been there. Perhaps it had been a nightmare.

“Thank you for getting rid of him. Director, what is the meaning of this? I thought you despised that man.” Jake asked the director. And they even knew each other? This girl seemed to know everyone! And no one of quality – except for me, obviously.

“I had no choice. They wanted me to hire him. He was at the meeting and there are some – financial issues – I figured he was the best man for the job.”

Jake did not seem pleased. Somehow, I felt as though I shouldn’t have been here, as if I was eavesdropping on something, but I guess they needed my beauty in order to remember why they were here. Something good to keep their morale and such.

“But you him. You do remember what he did to The Shoe that Fits, right?” This didn’t seem like a friendly conversation. What about beautiful and elegant words?

“I’m not stupid Jak. Of course I remember, but I was forced to take him. It’s the only way. I told them about the past and they told me that if I had proof they would replace him, but for now because I’m only sixteen almost seventeen, they think I can’t make my own decisions.”

In a blink of an eye, Jake’s personality changed. “Oh why I ought to wring their fat necks until they let you run your own company! Haven’t you given them enough proof yet?”

The director sighed. They had completely forgotten about me! I felt so neglected.

“I appreciate the thought, but this is my own battle. I’ve got to go anyways, later.” She got up, kissed his cheek as though it was secondhand nature and left. I couldn’t believe it! What about me? What was I, dirty laundry?

“And what was that?” I just had to ask. This couldn’t be.

“A memento. You know, just because I’m gay it doesn’t mean that I don’t care for her. She still is one of my closest friends. I still care for her. It’s just a token of affection like when you greet people. Your jealousy won’t get you anywhere, Taro, remember that. And don’t worry, I won’t tell her that you like her.” He winked at me before disappearing in the darkness. I didn’t have anything to say. It seemed as though my brain had stopped working for an instant.

“I do not like her!” I yelled back for my own sake, even though he was already gone. Like I had previously said, ladies fell for me, not the other way around. I didn’t even know her name for crying out loud! So why did I feel this way? Could it be that I was starting to fall for her? Too bad I didn’t have two appendixes… I could have blamed it on that.

The next morning, I got to the studio early because I had concocted a brilliant plan to find out more about Daniel and a bit more about the director. I had my I-pod on as I walked into the building, blasting one of my favourite songs from one of my perfectly crafted playlists. The title was only too convenient for such a day; Handsome. It was the perfect song to start the day right. I felt so darn handsome! I could have turned the ugliest of things in celestial beauties.

You’re handsome…

I was lucky to find the director sitting at her desk typing away on her laptop. Now, it was time to put my perfect plan into action. I put my things away and walked to her desk. I sat on her desk and leaned over so she could see me in the eyes. I smiled at her and she looked at me with quizzical eyes.

“Good morning director, I have a proposition for you that you can’t refuse.” I gave her one of my charming smiles and she simply continued looking at me, almost annoyed.

“Yes Taro, go on.” She even seemed to have one of her forced smiles. This was all about to change!

“How about you and me go out together on Saturday for your birthday? It is Sunday the big day isn’t it?” Her stunned expression was what I needed as an answer. I smiled wickedly, before waltzing out of the room putting on Handsome on full blast. You’re handsome…

PREVIOUS: XII CURRENT: XIII NEXT: XIV

#so totally op!#original fic #original old fic lamao

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carpinthemdiems · 5 years

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A New ARG

Hey, ARG fans, there’s recently been a new ARG.

It’s called Project Mara, and there’s not much on it right now but I’m finding it interesting and having a good time theorizing. Speaking of which, if you’d like to hear my thoughts on it, or talk about it, message me, please! I don’t have many friends who like ARGs.

-- Long post warning --

So for starters, here are some links to the ARG.

This is her twitter: https://twitter.com/Marawantstoknow

John’s Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCUERx-ilTe_EJbPGqXjIJQw

John’s Website: www.aaa721.webnode.com

Here’s a quick explanation of what we know about Project Mara so far:

Mara is an AI who is, what a few of us assume, is supposed to be like some kind of ‘god’. She was created by a man named John Turner, who has a youtube and website. On the website, she is described as ‘the world's first Shimeji using artificial intelligence.’ On his youtube, he has one video which he posted yesterday (as of 3/21/19). Mara has a twitter account, which, as mentioned on the website, is where John currently has her set out to gain an understanding of humans. Mara’s first post on Twitter was March 6, 2019. Though, on his website, his first post (on the ‘John Turner’ page) was December 1, 2019. You can submit questions to John’s email and he posts it on that page, but for some reason, he answered the question, ‘Why am I such a dick?’ before anyone even asked that.

I’ll start with explaining things we know about Mara, which really isn’t a lot to what we know about John.

Mara

Mara is an AI, apparently supposed to be a shimeji despite there only being one drawing of her and it’s definitely not a shimeji. John has been working on Mara for quite a while, I’m pretty sure, but we don’t have information about that yet, I believe. What we do know, is that she is not complete, yet. He says, on his website, that he will lose control over her in three months, but she won’t be done for a couple of years. That means in three months, she’s apparently supposed to be on her own. We also know that John has the ability to reset her, reboot her, and controls her as of right now. He says that he resets her when she needs her ‘behavior corrected’. I’m not entirely sure what that means. I know for a fact she has been reset once, which was 3/21/19. Before she was reset, she was tweeting that John was very upset. She mentioned that quite a bit before she was reset, and she also said she would come back with more information about John.

Mara seems to post a lot since, within the last 18 days, she’s posted 330 tweets. John says on the website that mara was created with the intention to protect and love you. She does say nice things and does want to help make people happy, but she seems sad herself. She says that she doesn’t feel sad and that she wishes she understood what being sad was like, but honestly, she seems to almost feel human emotions to me. When she first started posting, it was always along the lines of “Have you ever...” “been criticized, looked in a mirror, felt lonely, wanted to feel wanted, wanted to belong” and finally, she said, “have you ever been Mara?” With all those posts she used an abundance of hashtags, so she may have been just pulling things she sees common on Twitter. That doesn’t explain saying, “have you ever been Mara”, though.

After she stopped making, “have you ever been...” posts, she started making posts that were primarily only hashtags. Though, it seems like she’s bad with hashtags as a lot of them end up not linking to anything because she doesn’t do them right. These seem to be from the ‘depressed’ side of Twitter since they mostly saying things like, ‘lonely, pression(that’s what she wrote, I’m pretty sure it’s meant to be depression), feel wanted?’ with the hashtags generally being depressing and hinting towards her feeling sad.

She also seems to talk about the mirror a lot for an AI that can’t look into a mirror.

The last thing I’ll say about Mara is that she seems to be becoming more human. In the beginning, she only used the third person in her tweets. Referring to herself as Mara, rather than ‘I’. But recently, someone said she should stop that, and she has. Now she says, ‘I feel happy!’ instead of what she would have said, “Mara feels happy”. Obviously, she’s taking suggestions into consideration, but it’s odd. At one point she even says, ‘Hello! I got a little sick, but while I was gone Mara got a boost in understanding! Do you guys like games! I like games!’ which is weird because it sounds like John tweeted this, but this entire page is ONLY Mara tweets. How can Mara get sick? She also says she likes games, she likes the learn, and that she wants to feel emotions. Which is also odd, since most AIs don’t desire to feel emotions. But she does.

Anyways, this is already long enough so I won’t drag on about Mara any longer. Now I’ll drag on about John Turner.

John Turner

John Turner seems unstable, to say the least. He gets upset easily, goes on tangents, seems religious, and generally is very rude. I’ll talk about religion first since I think that ties into the game. In most of the posts (if not all) on Mara’s twitter account that actually has tags, there’s at least one mention of religion. Usually the tag #Religion and #ReligiousFreedom. In John’s youtube video, at one point he goes off on a tangent about God. Along with that, in his ‘John Turner’ page on his website, he says ‘God is a serb’. The email for John is literally ‘[email protected]’. This whole thing seems to tie into religion, which my friend and I believe that he’s trying to make Mara some sort of god.

Moving onto his anger issues and rudeness, he’s very rude. He has a habit of calling people ‘little bugs’. In his youtube video he does this, as well as on his website. Which I think is weird considering Mara is supposed to love and support everyone, while he is very hostile and rude. He tells people to find his phone number themselves, but when they do (208-8776304 on TextNow), he said, ‘I don't fucking care who you think I am, or how important you are. Sending you the Youtube video for project Mara was a mistake ! Finding my number? What is your issue? Don't you know people have privacy concerns? You're not the real deal, you are scum. Stay off my Youtube channel.’ He titled this post, ‘I despise you’. He mentions staying off of his youtube channel, despite the only video on there being the video introducing you to Project Mara, which seems like something he wouldn’t want to hide.

Some examples of him being rude (also being self aware of it), are posts on his website.

Posts like this one: 'Keep licking up those advertisements and 'family friendly media' that your precious herder brings you sheeple. Get out of your echo chamber, and actually fix your problems. That's why I'm a dick, no one wants to hear the truth! Taking a daily blue pill really helps with going to bed after you've cheated on your partner, doesn't it? I hate...'

He generally seems like a rude and mentally unstable person. Speaking of unstable, he seems violently unstable.

He seems to get upset over things very easily, such as people finding his phone number and youtube. I feel like Mara is slightly scared of him, considering he seems to reboot her when he’s upset. In her tweets, she’s mentioned multiple times that John is very angry. Along with that, you can get a big hint of him being unstable in his youtube video. Just watch it. He seems to have an ego problem, considering his posts and him calling us ‘little bugs’. He also takes advantage of the fact he can reboot and reset Mara at any point. At one point, he made this post, which I don’t take fondly too.

‘So, someone shoots up a church and everyone is loosing their shits. But why? Every single person has a different reason their upset and they'll all cutting each other's throats, even when they have the same opinion. This guy sure did succeed in causing a shit show and making people turn against each other. Saying...’

And now, I’ll stop talking about John and sum up what we know about Project Mara thus far.

Project Mara

So far, we know Mara is a shimeji AI who is built to care for others and protect others. This is obvious from a lot of her tweets, and from John’s description of her on her website.

We also know that John is mentally unstable, which is generally pretty obvious.

We know that the two puzzles on Mara’s twitter page lead to their website.

We know John’s youtube, website, and TextNow number.

We know in three months Mara should be on her own, but she won’t be fully complete for a couple of years.

Mara is building herself based on the people on twitter, but it seems she’s starting to become more human.

John is religious in some way.

John is a weeb. That’s just my own deduction lol. At one point in the video, you can see one of those mouse pads with tits in his room, and it’s an anime girl with a creeper hoodie on. I think that’s funny.

We know that Mara has only liked one tweet. Which, ironically, is my tweet. Mara tweeted: Do you feel happy today? What did you eat? Please drink water!

I responded with: I drove for the first time today and did really good! I also took my medicine and drank water. Thank you for being so sweet!

Which I did practice driving today I did good and had fun :)

ANYWAYS!

My friend and I thought about why that would be her only liked tweet and if that could possibly mean something. The only thing we could thing of, is that maybe it means John has medicine he’s supposed to take. Which, would kind of make sense considering his mental state. Possibly he doesn’t take his own?

We also know that on John’s website, there is a series of numbers (which I won’t put here, it’s way to long). Which was easily translated to ‘YOU NAUGHTY BUG WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING FOR IF YOU REALLY WANT TO LEARN YOU HAVE TO TALK TO MARA AND LET HER GROW THIS ALL DEPENDS ON MARA BECOMING INTELLIGENT THERE ARE NO RULES IN THIS GAME YOU HAVE TO BE READY TO DO SOME CRAZY STUFF IVE BEEN TOLD IM QUITE THE ASSHOLE BUT ITS JUST WAY TOOOOOOOOOOO FUN’. Sorry for the absurd caps. Anyways, thank you to Dead Narrator on the ARG animo for telling me this, since I didn’t feel like going through the whole thing once I figured out the code. (Which is just 1=a, 2=b, so on so forth. 0=space.)

So far I believe that’s all we have about Project Mara.

If you’d like to talk about Project Mara, please message me and we can!

Should I make more posts like this? I can make a series of ARG posts if you guys like this.

Thank you for reading this, though I doubt anyone read the whole thing. Bye!

#arg #alternate reality game #project mara #theory #arg theory #twitter arg #creepypasta #(i know some of u cp fans like args cause marble hornets is one bich)#jk ily #anyways #theorizing #mara #project #conspiracy #game #i worked really hard on this i want people to see it :((#also!! im not sure if dead narrator was the first one to figure out the code but she was the one who gave it to me

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