#she was still suspicious.. but she didnt accuse her of trying to replace her and threaten to kill her | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

iceeckos12 · 3 years

Note

some prompt ideas for your perusal! cold hands; lingering gaze; sharp words; an unexpected gift; walking with the wind causing your scarf and hair to billow out behind you.

a;kdjf i am very slowly working through these prompts. thanks so much for sending them! i settled on sharp words. and since you didnt specify the pairing that means i get to pick so....s2 canon divergence jontim??

thank you again to Bloodsbane on discord for helping with characterization.

cw for stalking, jon is vaguely suicidal, casual discussion of tim theoretically murdering jon

It’s two o’clock on a Saturday afternoon, and Tim is standing in front of his house, arms aching under a heavy load of groceries, staring at the person sitting on the bench across from his house. Their face is hidden behind a newspaper, but he can faintly make out the peach-colored plasters that encircle the fingers even from here, and he cannot do this right now.

He sets the groceries down on the front porch with a bit more force than he meant to and marches across the street. The fingers tighten and the paper crinkles loudly as he approaches, but the hands don’t lower, and that somehow pisses him off even more.

Tim grabs the top of the newspaper and yanks, and Jon lets out a surprised cry as half his cover is ripped away. They stare at each other for a moment, Tim so incandescent with anger that he can’t even begin to speak, Jon’s eyes wide and surprised and tinged with the faintest flush of fear.

Tim takes a step forward. Jon lets out a tiny, pathetic sound and flinches, lifting his arms to protect his head, and Tim -

Stops. Feels every bit of the anger drain out of him, replaced with bone-deep hurt and bitter disappointment and pure exhaustion.

“Well?” he asks, gesturing toward his house. “If you’re not planning on leaving, you might as well come inside.”

Jon’s throat bobs as he swallows once, then twice, and slowly lowers his arms. His gaze is still bright with fear as he tentatively asks, “Are you...are you going to kill me?”

Anger flashes through him white hot, and he closes his eyes and breathes through it. Once he feels like he’s not going to start screaming, he opens his eyes and looks steadily down at Jon. “And what would you do if I was going to kill you?” his gaze travels slowly over Jon, noting the rumpled shirt, the stark lack of anything to defend himself with. Out loud he wonders, “What was your plan?”

Jon just looks at him, mouth agape, like he hadn’t thought that far ahead. Tim sighs, turns around, and walks back to the house. Either Jon will follow him, or he won’t.

He’s not sure if he’s disappointed or relieved when he hears quiet footsteps behind him.

Jon doesn’t say anything as Tim lets them into the house, as he puts his groceries away. He just hovers in the living room, looking around warily like he’s never seen the place before, which he has. Tim, Jon, and Sasha used to have movie nights here when they were researchers, and the memory of them sitting together on the couch, laughing over some stupid plot twist or what have you, almost bowls him over.

“Take a seat,” Tim orders stiffly. “Tea?”

Jon opens his mouth, then thinks better of it and simply nods, shoulders tight as a bowstring as he sits carefully on one of the chairs.

Tim thinks about all the things that he wants to say, all the things he probably shouldn’t say, as he fills the kettle. What he really wants are some magic words that will make everything go back to the way it was before they joined the archives, when there were no worms or murderers and things were easy. There aren’t, of course there aren’t, and it’s a stupid, wistful thought, but he wants it so badly that he has to dig his fingernails into the palms of his hands to ground himself.

But that’s impossible, because there were worms, and Jon’s paranoia has a very real source, for all that his reaction to it is invasive and unacceptable. He doesn’t think there’s any possible way to fix it, but there has to be a way to make this better, to - to relieve the pressure, so to speak.

Christ, Tim just wants his friend back.

So he puts the kettle on the stove, removes two mugs and a box of tea down from his cabinet. Takes a deep breath and turns to look at Jon, whose gaze immediately snaps from the house to him.

“So,” Tim begins, then stops, uncertain where to go from there. Then, because Jon is still favoring him with that wary, suspicious scowl, “Stop looking at me like that.”

Jon’s head jerks down and his gaze skitters away, but he doesn’t apologize.

Tim lets out a ragged sigh, drags his hands over his face, and reminds himself that Jon came here despite his suspicion, which must mean that deep down he’s sick of this too. “Jon, this has to stop.”

Jon bites his lip, his shoulders tensing up around his ears. He looks two seconds from bolting, but still he says nothing.

“Christ, Jon,” Tim bursts out, slapping his hand against the counter for emphasis. He almost pauses when Jon flinches so hard he almost falls right out of his seat, but shakes his head and soldiers on. “What - what the fuck do you want? From - from me, from Martin. What can I do to convince you that I’m not some cold-blooded killer?”

“What I want is to find Gertrude’s killer!” Jon bursts out, finally. “If I can just figure it out, get some answers -”

Tim throws his arms into the air. “And then what? You - you’re not even carrying anything to defend yourself. What if I was the killer?” he looks around the kitchen frantically. Points to the kettle, “What if I poisoned this tea? Or,” points to the knife block, “Or took one of these knives out and stabbed you? What then, Jon?”

“Then at least I would know,” Jon grits, eyes wild. “At least then it would be over.”

“Well sure,” Tim retorts, sharp as anything. “And then you’d be no better off than Gertrude, because you’d be dead.”

They both freeze mid-gesture at that. Jon stares at Tim, eyes wide, mouth pressed in a firm, tight line. Tim lowers his hands to his sides, the air in his lungs escaping in one long, slow rush.

“Is that really what you want?” he asks, and it comes out all soft, less like the sharp accusation he wanted it to. “Because...even if you don’t believe me, that’s not what I want.”

Jon finally looks away, his long, clever fingers rubbing senseless patterns against the arm of the chair. “I want to believe you,” he says miserably. “I’m just....”

The kettle behind him screams, and Tim finally creaks into motion. He turns around and mechanically pours the boiling water into the mugs, watching as the liquid almost immediately begins to darken. He adds a bit of the milk that he’d purchased just that day, then some sugar, and walks over to deposit one in front of Jon.

Then he sits down on the couch, cradling the other mug between his palms, and asks, “Do you really think that I’m a killer?”

Jon turns to him, eyes wide. “No!” then cringes inward, one hand reaching up to tug at his messy curls. “Yes. Fuck, I can’t...I just don’t know, Tim. You’re, I don’t think you are, I don’t - but Gertrude didn’t either, did she? She wasn’t, she wasn’t careful enough, and someone killed her, someone got her, and if I’m not careful they’ll get me too. I, I can’t relax, I can’t get comfortable -”

Tim raises a quelling hand, cutting him off before he can spiral any further, burying the hurt that one desperate yes had caused. “So we’re all equally suspicious.”

“Yes,” Jon says, relieved. He picks up his tea, looks down into it, before setting it aside again, like he really does suspect that it’s been poisoned.

“Okay,” Tim says, drumming his fingers against his knee, thinking. Jon is watching him intently, though it’s less frightened and more hopeful, like he’s expecting Tim to magically produce the solution to all his problems. It used to be nice, when someone as smart as Jon looked at him like that. Instead he just feels vaguely annoyed, because this isn’t his fucking responsibility - except he’s committed now, so it kind of is. “...What if I helped you?”

Jon gives him a startled look. “I - what?”

Tim shrugs, trying to figure out how to word this in a way that’ll get through to Jon. “I mean, you said it yourself. You don’t actually have a plan if you find the killer, so it doesn’t matter. If I’m the murderer you’ll be dead, but at least you’ll know.” He can’t believe he’s actually suggesting this. “If I’m not, then you’ll have a second pair of hands helping you figure this all out.”

Jon looks equally incredulous for a moment, but then it fades into quiet consideration. Eventually he says, “...But why? Why would you...”

“Because I hate that you’re doing this, but you’re scared and I don’t think I can convince you to stop,” Tim tells him tiredly. “I’d rather know what you’re doing instead of you just...shutting me out.” That hurts more than anything else, he doesn’t say. “And if I help, maybe this will all be over sooner. Maybe this will finally end.”

For a moment Jon looks at him, and for a moment he gets a glimpse of what’s buried beneath all the primal terror and sleep-deprived fervor: Jon as he was, young and small and scared. That little bit of clarity lands like a gut punch.

“...I’m sorry, Tim,” Jon whispers, curling in on himself, wrapping his fingers in his sweater. “I’m sorry that you have to do this. I’m so sorry. But...yes, please help me.”

“Yeah, well,” Tim forces a wry smile on his face that probably looks more like a grimace, and feels something lock in place. “What are us assistants for?”

#smallhorizons #my writing #iceeckos12 writes #i guess this is more pre jontim than jontim but #jontim #tma

74 notes · View notes

lovedeluxe92 · 5 years

Text

okay so i started working at jimmy johns in early febuary of this year. i needed a job rlly bad and money desperately, just something to keep me afloat and to afford food. what i experienced...i was not at all prepared for lmao. i was sexually harassed, verbally harassed, had my hours fucked with, had management and even the owners of the company who could give a fuck less about their employees, had to deal with my fellow coworkers AND managers being on k2 and other drugs, and the final fucking straw which was getting my tip money stolen from me OUT OF THE SAFE BY A MANAGER. i started working as a delivery driver. which was INCREDIBLY stress inducing at first bc i worked at the one right downtown. i had to deal with

i started working as a delivery driver. which was INCREDIBLY stress inducing at first bc i worked at the one right downtown. i had to deal with

traffic, pedestrians NOT LOOKING WHERE THE FUCK THEY WERE GOING DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MANY PPL I ALMOST KILLED CAUSE /THEY/ DID NOT LOOK, we have ‘parking police’ and i legit got about 15-20 tickets during my time there bc that asshole was out for blood and anytime he saw my car, even if i wasnt parked illegally (oh did i mention we had like 3 parking spots all on the street and all with a 2 hour limit (: ) or hadnt been parked in a spot for the full 2 hours. so there was that.

see when i first started everything was fine. we had good employees who worked hard and did what they had to do. they were all stoners, but whatever i could care less about that. SO. our assistant manager, he was a mess. racist, homophobic, rude, loud. the worst. we would do dabs out in his car (yeah i know but i worked at a fucking jimmy johns) and he would just say the most questionable shit. i remember this one time he saw my phone background was a pic of me and my bf and was like ‘oh you like black guys? what’s your sex like? i bet it’s really good’ and im not gonna go into too much detail here, bc it upset me and its racist, but he kept going and said some REALLY creepy shit i was like wtf and told him to never speak to me like that again or i would report him for sexual harassment (side note: one time he thought i did report him for sexual harassment and was like “who are you gonna buy weed from now?” LITERALLY ANYONE YOU PIECE OF SHIT.) he would always be like “DAMN THICK’ whenever i would bend over and do everything. I TOLD MY MANAGER AT THE TIME. she didn’t do anything. AND the owners of the franchise definitely knew bc like...there’s cameras and they can hear everything we say? but no one did fucking anything. and i needed the money bad so i had to stay. of course i told him off constantly. he was white and always saying the n word. just a piece of fucking shit.

i think the happiest day of my life was when he FINALLY got fired. my manager had to go to another city for a week and help out that jimmy johns bc i guess ALL the employees and managers did a walk out (yeah this happens at all the jimmy johns owned locally in my area i wish i was kidding) and left his inept ass in charge. it took him 5 mins to make sandwiches (FREAKY FAST hello????) he was just a poor manager. but THEN he started using k2 again. and he was a zombie. there was no point of him even being there bc like he would just go to the back of the store and just stand in front of the freezer door staring for like 10-15 mins at a time.i was a driver and didnt know how to make sandwiches yet and this bitch seriously was just standing there cracked out of his mind on k2 in FRONT of customers (and i will say our customers were SO nice at least) takking phone calls slurring his words. it was embarrassing. i rememeber i had 2 customers who had waited almost a HALF HOUR for ONE sandwich bc i was having a panic attack and losing my fucking mind trying to make their sandwiches while he was in his truck getting high and refusing to come in. one of the customers actually gave me a tip and told me i was doing great and the other one was like ‘im so sorry this is happening to you, that guy is fucked up’. anyway, he passed out on k2 in his truck one night and got the cops called on him and got banned from the property :) i still saw him from time to time and he looked disgusting & miserable and it made me so happy.

mostly we just had grown ass employees, fucking 30 year olds, just acting like children. always on drugs. i had one coworker pretend to slap my ass and i called him out and he was like ‘it’s a joke im not apologizing’. people would try to take deliveries from me. AND LET ME JUST SAY, not even to fucking brag even slighly but i was the best worker there my entire time there bc regardless of where im working i am giving my 100% every day and no one else there would. but ppl always tried to step over me and did not respect me. we had one coworker who had 3 felonies and one day like 4-5 cops came to our store to tell us to call the cops the next time he showed up for work (surprise surprise he fled bc they took an hour to get to the store despite the fact we were literally like not even 4 blocks from the police station) and he was always high on k2. forever late. day after day no call no show. he had his friend get hired on who would go down to subway and talk shit about subway in his uniform??? lmao and subway called us one day and was like ‘can yall not?’ he also threatened to burn down the store and then my manager (who was always on a power trip if we’re being honest) purposefully withheld his paycheck to fuck with him, because he was fucking with her, so we dealt with him WAY longer than we should have?

then this one bitch that became manager, SOMEHOW, we were seriously always that desperate for staff and we hire anyone bc the managers are overworked af and just want to take the load off. anyway, SHE was always high on k2 as well. and she would always overshare rlly traumatic personal things from her life to me and all the customers and its like....girl we dont wanna hear that pls try and get some help. she was not currently being abused, i wanna specify. she was talking about things from her past. i sympathized with her but like im a victim of dv too lmao i dont wanna see your bruises without being asked first. and then i remember one day i left my money bag there (i kept my tips in it and had like $37 in there or something) and this bitch who was making MORE MONEY THAN ME seriously fucking went into the safe (we caught her on camera lmao) and stole that money out of my bag and left a few bills to make it seem less suspicious i guess??? lied about it to my face? then quit bc she ‘wasnt gonna sit there and be accused of something i didnt do’ like ok lmao

then to top it all off at one point my old manager just stopped giving a fuck and the store went to shit and we got complaint after complaint and she started being so rude to all of her staff, including myself (and we were like besties so i was devastated) and she cut my hours when she was submitting our work times for the checks because i would clock in early to help out....LIKE SHE ASKED? and it was just everything i said to her...her response was just the most rude and hateful voice and just....it was so rude. i cried every single day after work. she eventually got replaced and then quit

but then this new manager, whom i loved, was very depressed and just had a lot wrong with him mentally but he was still very....drama starting and attention seeking. he would talk about suicide nonstop 24/7 and not to be callous but it just made me so uncomfortable and triggered me so much? they did overwork him and i will attest and agree to that and he had a lot on his shoulders but he couldve gone to mcdonalds literally any day and gotten a job with better hours, better pay, and better benefits. i kept telling him over and over to leave bc he had so much managerial experience he couldve been hired anywhere! all resteraunts down here are perpetually hiring, especially for managers! i would know bc i was looking for another job lmao. but he’d text me every night saying things like ‘well lets hope i drink myself to death’ ‘suicide is painless’ etc. and it was just......VERY uncomfortable for me, as someone who has attempted suicide and still struggles with ideation from time to time lmao it was just the most triggering environment ever

like idk how i lasted that long but i worked my ass off, saved up my money, have a good paying job and im trying my best to forget this entire experience (honestly i did have some good times) but i really dont....think i can lmao

ON A POSTIVE NOTE: we had some of the kindest and most caring customers ive ever had in my life. i was shocked. but the amount of times i had a shitty customer in my entire time there i can count on one hand lmao like....even when they were shitty they were like ‘im sorry i know yall work hard and everything’ like i miss my customers SO MUCH because we actually had relationships with them and shit and ugh god. if the customers were shitty tho i would never have kept this job lmfao

i stayed at this job simply bc i made enough money for rent and my bills perfectly and it was one of the few jobs where i was paid an hourly wage + tips. and i wanted my next job to be a job in my field. that’s why i stuck around so long, it took some time to do that.

so yeah theres my mess i love anyone who read this and you can have my first born and be the beneficiary to my life insurance when i die

#tw: racism #tw: sexism #tw: suicide #tw: drugs #idk...what else to warn y'all about. just know this is a fucking #mess #i mean these arent horrific mentions of any of these things but i dont wanna trigger anyone unintentionally #better safe than sorry with tws

7 notes · View notes