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Shrimpo sat at his desk, staring at the paper he had in front of him. Finn told him to write down what he felt, maybe getting his words down on paper would help him be less aggressive. But all he’d managed to write within seven minutes was “I hate paper”.
He grumbled as he stared at it. Why couldn’t he express himself normally? He knew why, actually, but it felt better to scream at the empty space than admit that outright.
Shrimpo was a one note character. His one note, was being angry. He wasn’t the only one note, but he was pretty certain he was one of the most self aware. Squirm just genuinely thought he was a horrible person, Rudie didn’t have a mental capacity past “it’s Christmas”, and Goob was just… Goob. Shrimpo though, he hated everything and everyone. Or, at least he didn’t like normal things.
He did like some things. He liked the rough texture of his brick, he liked the feeling of beating up his punching bag, and he liked the weight of his brick too. But those weren’t normal things to like, he tried saying something about it once, but all he got was odd looks. So, if he disqualified those things, textures, how things feel, the weight of some things, then he guessed he really didn’t like anything.
He did know there were some things he truly hated. Loose sleeves, for example, he hated the way they felt on his arms and shoulders, and it wasn’t like he could just get the sleeves tailored. Hell, Shrimpo remembered when the show was still open, he tore the sleeves off his shirt enough that they gave up, and changed his in show clothes to be sleeveless.
Airhorns. Hated those too, they were too loud, and the noise was just piercing. He collected the ones he found so no one would be able to use them, which, funny enough, made Finn bring him them from time to time because he thought he liked them.
He looked back at the paper. All it said was “I hate paper”, “I hate sleeves” and “I hate airhorns”.
He grit his teeth and grabbed the paper. What could Finn possibly want from him? He should know it’s not easy for him to convey this sorta stuff, it was almost alien.
He got frustrated, and tore the paper to shreds, letting them fall to the ground around his chair.
Why did he just do that? Finn went out of his way to suggest a solution to his problem, and he just… tore it up. Why would he do that?
He bit his hand. It relieved stress, but he didn’t exactly like doing it. Made him feel like a baby. The pain brought him peace of mind though, and besides, if he doesn’t bleed and there’s no scars it’s not really self harm, right?
He bit a bit harder feeling his sharp teeth against his skin. He hated having sharp teeth, it made him look like an animal.
Why did Finn tolerate him? He said he hated him constantly and Finn just… brushed it off. Constantly. Shrimpo said “I hate fish” Finn said that’s fine cause he’s a fishbowl, not a fish. He said “I hate fish puns” Finn said that’s fine, he’ll try a different “app-loach”. He said he hated Finn. Finn said that’s fine, he didn’t hate Shrimpo. Shrimpo wondered what Finn must’ve done to deserve someone as horrendous as him as a best friend.
He probably didn’t do anything, Shrimpo just made it his problem because Finn was too nice. He hated how nice Finn was to him. He hated how nice Finn tried to be to everyone. He hated how Finn didn’t think badly of him. Everyone should, no one likes a bully after all. No one cares for a bully.
Shrimpo froze, a cold dread spreading from his face down. He pulled his arm out of his mouth. Bite marks decorated each of his fingers and all around the back of his hand, going up his wrist to part of the arm, except for the newest one. Shrimpo bit too hard. Ichor trickled out of the fresh indents on the large mark. Damn his sharp teeth.
He panicked. Quickly, he got up from his chair, and started rummaging through his desk. Bandages, didn’t he have bandages? He was constantly getting cuts and pokes from all the runs he went on, he had to have spare bandages somewhere around here, he just had to. Stupid, stupid, stupid! How he could he bite too hard?!
He pulled out one of the drawers and dumped it out, a few pencils and some papers fell out, but no bandages. He couldn’t be out, not now, not now. Another drawer, nothing. The third, still nothing. Shit shit shit.
Someone knocked at his door, and he froze mid panic.
“Hey! I wanted to check in on you, you haven’t come out of your room in a while, you’re not feeling eel, are ya?”
SHIT.
“I’m fine, Finn,” Shrimpo said.
“…can I come in?” Finn asked.
“NO,” Shrimpo quickly yelled. He looked under his bed for anything he could use to hide his arm.
“Uh- I mean, just gimme a second, alright?”
He took a jacket out. It was black with spikes, Delilah gave it to him before the shutdown, she wanted to update his character design. He never wore it, not even once.
“…alright, sorry, come in.”
Finn opened the door cautiously.
“Hey, you sounded a bit… the hell happened in here?”
“…couldn’t find something,” Shrimpo said, avoiding Finn’s gaze as he started fixing the drawers.
“…whats with the new jacket?” Finn said, helping Shrimpo put the drawers back into his desk.
“Just a new style,” Shrimpo dismissed.
“I hate sticking to one thing forever.”
“Oh don’t get me wrong, being stagnant is totally mooring,” Finn joked.
“But, I thought… I thought you didn’t like sleeves?”
Shrimpo paused as he put the last drawer back.
“…I don’t remember ever saying that,” he said.
“…you should, you told me last week on our last run,” Finn said.
“I asked you why you prefer wearing your jersey, and you said you hated sleeves.”
“No I didn’t,” Shrimpo denied.
“I hate misremembering things. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“…Could you, just, take off the jacket for me real quick?”
Shrimpo flinched back when Fin grabbed the jacket.
“…no,” Shrimpo said.
“I hate feeling cold.”
“Shrimpo.”
“It’s not a big deal.”
“Shrimpo, please.”
“I hate when you blow things out of proportion-“
“I won’t tell anyone if this is what I think it is.”
That made Shrimpo pause. Was Finn telling the truth? Would he actually keep it a secret? He hated being unsure.
“…promise?”
“You know I wo-“
“I said promise.”
“…I promise, I won’t.”
Shrimpo hesitated. Was he actually going to show him? Was he acting going to look weak in front of someone? He couldn’t even look strong to himself, what would Finn think knowing he wasn’t even strong enough not to hate himself? He took off the jacket, and held out his arm.
He looked down at first, before looking up at Finn. He looked horrified. Like Shrimpo knew he’d be.
He was probably disgusted. He was probably terrified. He was probably going to back out. He was probably going to tell him “biting is disgusting”. He was probably going to say “what reason do you even have to do that?” He was probably going to say-
“Do you need bandages?”
Shrimpo paused.
“…what?”
“You’re bleeding. Do you- I’m- I’m gonna get you some bandages, alright? Just stay here.”
He watched Finn leave in slight disbelief. That was it? Just, “do you need bandages?” No disgust, no horror, no… nothing?
Finn should’ve been disgusted, Shrimpo was disgusted with himself. Biting, he didn’t bleed but he slobbered over his whole arm, like some baby. Like a damn dog. It was demeaning, like it should’ve been. He deserved to get demeaned, he barely acted like a normal person anyways, why should he be treated like one?
He heard the door opened.
“Ok, I got the bandages,” Finn said in a low voice, closing the door behind him.
“Do you wanna wrap it or should I?”
“…if-if you could, that would be great,” Shrimpo said, looking away. He really, really didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve Finn as a friend. He was a horrible person, and yet Finn refused to give up on him.
…a pretty dumb move if you asked him.