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#I already give it 5 days a week on full blast
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I’m posting this so I have evidence and can’t feel guilty later:
If you’re a grad student and you need to take your weekend off, fucking do it.
Especially,,,, for my colleagues in a goddamn Phd program, like, what a hell scape, please take the weekend off. I told myself for the longest time that I had to just keep working because I couldn’t NOT work over the weekend or I would burst into flames - oh my fucking god !?!?!?!? If you’re looking for a signal that you should just say ‘fuck it’ and take the day for yourself, then fucking do it. PLEASE.
The truth about being in an English PhD program: Everything is awful, no one gives a shit what you do, just ask for an extension, like for the love of GOD, just ask for an extension. Please take the full weekend and go for a long walk in the snow and pet a dog.
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kyber-crystal · 4 months
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i will follow you into the dark || bradley "rooster" bradshaw
summary: your first instinct has always been to push people away when they get too close, but for some reason, you have trouble letting one pilot go. but little did you know that he had settled into your heart from the start and has no intention of leaving. (in which you have Bradley Bradshaw wrapped around your finger, and you don’t even notice—5 occasions that solidify your love for him, and 1 time you realize it)
words: ~3.3k
warnings: angst (BUT A HAPPY ENDING, I PROMISE), near-death experiences, brief mentions of violence, also my writing LMAO
a/n: hi guys i haven't posted a full-length fic in a LONG time but here we go :) this fic won the vote so it's going up first! hope you enjoy :)
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I. meet me in the middle
“Mav!”
You and Maverick turned around at the same time. “Which one?”
“The pretty one,” Rooster stated. 
“Be more specific.”
“I am being specific, Captain.”
“No, you aren’t.”
“Fine, I need your daughter.”
“You always need her for something.”
“Sorry, pops,” you grinned and clasped Maverick’s shoulder, and walked over to Bradley. “Come to kidnap me again, Bradshaw?”
“Actually, I’m hungry.”
“Then…go eat? I don’t see what any of that has to do with me.”
“I’m going to dinner, and I want you to come along,” he explained. “So, let’s go.”
“Is that why Cyclone was grumbling about someone spilling coffee all over him earlier? I knew it had to be you that put him in that mood.”
“Doesn’t matter. Come on.”
You looked back at your father, who simply laughed and motioned for you to go. The test flight would have to wait. 
It was 5:30 when you got there, but the usually-crowded cantina had only one other person inside. Rooster didn’t hesitate as he set down his car keys and slid into the booth right next to you.
“There’s a seat right there,” you pointed out. 
“And?”
“You can sit over there.”
“I don’t want to, though.”
“Alright, then.” 
You weren’t even done for the day and already, felt tired and worn out beyond belief. The one thing that had been keeping you going was Maverick’s promise to take you on a Mach 7 test flight. (With the Admiral’s permission, of course. But you wouldn’t be surprised if he had never asked.)
Rooster tells the waitress your order without blinking, and you give him a tired smile as a thank you. 
There’s no animated conversation, no loud comments or jokes or anything of the sort as the food comes out, but neither of you mind. Sometimes, all you needed to cool down from a long week was each other’s company and a steaming plate of fajitas. 
The little routine you’ve established falls into place so easily you don’t even have to think. Impromptu dinners, blasting 80’s music as the sun goes down, taking the offbeat path down to the coast with salt in your windswept hair.  Little to no words spoken, and somehow the silence speaks volumes.
But you don’t understand why he’d choose you to do this with, out of everyone. You’d expect him to drift towards someone less damaged. Someone who could keep up to his free and daring spirit and push him to his limits. Someone who had less baggage and didn’t flinch at every little touch. 
But despite all that he doesn’t leave. Even when everyone else around you seemed to, he was always there, assuring you he’d wait no matter what.
“Don’t worry about it.” He places a gentle hand over yours as he hands his card over to pay later that evening. “Let me treat you tonight.”
“Thanks…” 
He holds the door open for you as you walk out and keeps a ghost of a hand against your back the whole way to the car. You’re trying to burrow into yourself, but he doesn’t stop looking at you. The feeling of his eyes on you sends shivers running down your spine and you nervously shift in your seat. 
“You okay?” Rooster places his hand on the headrest as he reverses out of the parking lot. “You seem quiet tonight.”
“Yeah.”
“Okay.” He doesn’t press any further, assuming that you’re tired and that’s why you’re unwilling to say much. He knows. He understands. “If you ever need to talk, though, I’m one call and a 15 minute walk away. Or 7, if I sprint.”
This makes you laugh a bit. “If you say so.”
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II. waiting on you
As soon as you hop out of your plane, he’s the first one there to greet you and pulls you in for a hug. You have no time to react to it because he’s so quick to sweep you up into his arms. You can smell a mix of sweat and coffee and a little bit of raspberries on him, and it helps bring you back down to reality. 
“You saw me a few hours ago, Roos…please let me go…” you mumbled into his shoulder. His grip on you only tightens further. “What’s with the excitement?”
“Nothing. I’m just happy to see you.”
Not knowing what else to do, your hands awkwardly reach up to pat him on the back. “It’s good to see you, too.”
Though you don’t say it out loud, you’re also just as happy to see him—it’s comforting to know he’ll be waiting whenever you return from something. And that, you think, is more than enough. 
Rooster carries your things for you without asking, and you’re grateful because your shoulders feel like they’re going to fall out of their sockets. Once again, he’s standing close by as you go to your quarters, ever the watchman. If he doesn’t have a hand on you, then his eyes will stay glued to you for as long as they can be. 
“Is that my shirt?” he asks as you step out of the bathroom wearing an oversized vintage T-shirt and a pair of jeans. 
“No.”
“It looks better on you, anyway.” He smirks; you fail to notice the way his gaze lingers on you a bit longer than normal. “You ready to go? They’re waiting for us at the Hard Deck. Hangman’s complaining about a rematch or somethin’.”
You lean into his side and smile, and he puts an arm across your shoulders. It feels so natural that you almost don’t notice. “Yeah. Let’s go.”
His eyes never leave you, even when he’s in the thick of the game. It’s impossible to ignore the heat pooling in your stomach every time his gaze flickers over to yours. 
Coyote notices your dazed look and nudges Payback in the side. “How is it that everyone knows that Bradshaw and Y/N love each other except Bradshaw and Y/N?”
“Because they’re stupid,” Payback whispered back.
“Ah. Makes sense.”
“So, we need to do something about it.”
“Hm…I’d say we wait it out. They’re going in the right direction.” A small smile graced Coyote’s face as Rooster pumped a fist up in victory before rushing over to embrace you. “A room full of people, yet all he sees is her.”
“You’re so right, man.”
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III. rose-tinted glasses
“What are you looking for out there?” Rooster called out.
“Something pretty,” you replied as you stood by the ocean’s edge, the wind fanning your hair around your shoulders. He’s sure that he’s never seen a more mesmerizing sight. 
“I beat you to it, because I already found one,” he stated with confidence, eyes never leaving you.
“Where?”
“I’m looking right at her.”
“That’s not what I meant, silly. Do I look like a seashell to you?”
“No, you’re even better.”
You laugh once again and resume your search. Right then, a glowing scallop catches your eye, and sand dusts your clothes as you bend down to pick it up. It’s smooth and seems to glow in rose gold amidst the early evening light. 
“Would you look at that,” you breathed out, palm extended to show him what you’ve found. “It’s perfect.”
Rooster encloses his hand around yours, and you can feel the heat radiating from his skin. It’s cold out but you’re not freezing at all because he’s so close. He’s so close. Your heart skips a beat. 
“Wow…it sure is.”
He kneels down with you, and you spend the next few hours making it a competition to see who can find the most unique set of stones. A strange feeling washed over you as you watched his brows furrow in concentration. Never had you imagined to be spending Thursday night with Bradley Bradshaw by the seashore, and yet, it feels like you’ve done this thousands of times before. 
Everything seems to fall into place. 
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IV. for you, i’d cross the line 
“Y/N, hey.”
“Are you drunk?”
“Doesn’t matter. Move over.”
You shifted on the bench to make room for him and he sat down next to you. This was probably his tenth time playing his rendition of ‘Great Balls of Fire’ but that didn’t matter; the man knew how to sing. You found yourself leaning into him and listening to his heartbeat, and the sensation lulled you into a peaceful trance. 
You took one good look at your best friend. Sweat lined his forehead and his face was bright red from both the alcohol and heat, but still, you were 100% sure that you’d never seen a more beautiful sight in your life. 
The way he seemed to gaze at you made your heartbeat pick up speed. It didn’t matter that he had too one too many drinks in the moments leading up to this, nor did it matter that he was always one to be rather affectionate with you. It didn’t make you love him any less—if anything, it made him all the more endearing. 
“You’re looking at me very…intensely,” you mumbled. “It’s making me nervous.”
“Sorry, sweetheart,” he murmured. “A man can’t help it when he’s in love.”
“Was that tipsy you or sober you?”
“Sober me is saying I love you.” He continues playing, unfazed, and the sound of the piano in your ears fades away into nothingness. 
It’s drunk Rooster telling you he means what he says, the confidence boost making him do things he normally wouldn’t. It’s drunk Rooster attempting to serenade you as his warm, alcohol-riddled breath falls against your neck. It’s drunk Rooster talking…but there’s a sober truth hidden behind his words that sends a shiver down your spine. 
You’re nose-to-nose as he starts to sing, and you lose yourself in a sea of gold and blue as his warm thumb grazes over your cheek. As if there’s an invisible string drawing you together, you move closer and closer towards each other. Drunk or not, he was utterly enchanting and you couldn’t turn away.
Once again…you ignore the stirring feeling in your chest at the feeling of his body being so close to yours. 
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V. saving grace
You find yourself opening the door to Rooster, who has a bouquet of your favorite flowers and some large Tupperware in hand. Butterflies flutter in your stomach as you accept them and step aside to let him in. “What is this for…?”
“Thought you’d want something nice to add to the kitchen. You and Mav need to work on decorations,” he said. “Why? Do you not like them?”
“No…I’m…how’d you know these were my favorite, anyway?”
“I heard you talking on the phone to Phoenix about them six months ago,” Rooster explained, taking his jacket off and hanging it over the couch. “I pride myself on being observant like that. Also…I woke up early to cook you that pasta you always go nuts over when we drive to LA.”
“Oh.” Your heart twinged as you glanced over—that damn pasta was your favorite thing on the entire planet. You claimed that nobody could make it as well as the diner in Newport did, except Bradley himself. (He didn’t tell you how many times it took to get it just right, though. He didn’t want you freaking out over that. And besides, Maverick’s pots and pans that he borrowed had already paid the price.)
He paused for a moment after setting the container down on the counter. “I noticed you went home early today. Are you sure you’re alright?”
“I’m fine,” you lied as you put the flowers in a vase. But that was no use; he could see right through your monotone response. “Didn’t sleep enough last night.”
Bradley sees your hands tremble slightly. “Sweetheart.”
That’s all he needs to say before you step forward and lean your head against his chest. One arm finds its way around your waist to pull you close, while his free hand smoothes your hair out. A cracked sob escapes your lips and you squeeze your eyes shut in the hopes that if you kept them closed long enough and prayed hard enough, a guardian angel would swoop in and save you. 
“I’m here, it’s okay, you’ll be okay,” he murmurs. “You’ll be okay.”
“Please don’t go, Bradshaw,” you begged, voice hoarse. “Don’t leave me.”
“I’m right here, don’t worry,” he reminds you, his hand moving down to rub your back. “I’ll be here whenever you need me, I promise.” 
You reach your pinky out a bit, and the two of you link your fingers together. 
You’re never letting go, and neither is he. 
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epilogue—soul ties 
“I’m trying to shake them off. They won’t let up—shit, I’m hit—”
His panicked voice cuts through the buzz of static and you can feel your whole body go numb. What if he doesn’t make it back… The thought alone is too much to bear. 
He curses under his breath and you hear something like that of a whispered prayer and several mentions of Please let me come home to her. Your heart clenches in your chest and you feel like you’re going to puke. Noticing your sudden uneasiness, Maverick grips your hand to keep you steady. 
“Bradshaw, what the hell is going on there?” Coyote nervously rubs at his forehead as he looks up at the screen. “If you die, we’re all going to kill you.”
“Left engine’s completely blown out. I have two bogeys on my tail.”
You bite the inside of your cheek until the tangy, metallic taste of blood fills your mouth. This couldn’t be happening. There already was a ghost amongst the skies, and Rooster could not afford to become the second…
“Shit. Shit, shit, shit, I’m going down, guys—” Rooster curses again, and the earsplitting sound of a large blast interrupts him before he can say much else. 
“Bradley!” you shrieked as you watched his radar signal slowly fade off the screen. “No—”
Silence punctures the air and you finally lose balance, succumbing to the black void of nothingness. 
10 hours later, you sit outside the hospital room in the cold hallway, a thin, tear-stained blanket wrapped around your shoulders. Hangman and Phoenix had long since given up on getting you to move, so they took turns sitting with you. 
“You should try eating. There’s In-N-Out nearby, I’ll get something for you if you want,” Jake offered. 
You shake your head. 
“Come on. It’s been all day.”
“No.”
“You’re really that worried about him, aren’t you.”
“No,” you muttered bitterly. 
“You claim to not care, yet you’ve been sitting here for the past ten hours.” 
“I don’t care. This is me looking out for him in the same way any colleague or teammate of his would. This is what I’m supposed to do. What we’re all supposed to do.” 
“Y/N.” Jake sounds a bit more serious this time, and this makes you stop trying to bury yourself within your thoughts. “Listen to me.”
“What,” you exhaled.
"The fact of the matter here is,” he cleared this throat, “Bradshaw cares about you…a lot. Not in a simple and innocent ‘friendly’ way. And if you keep pushing him away like you always do, all 'cause you're scared, you're gonna lose him for good. Losing a good man out of fear is never worth the cost."
Your heart stops.
Every hug, every word and cheesy pickup line, every lingering glance and touch and intertwined set of fingers—he'd fallen first long ago, and pulled you down with him. But you let him, and you'll walk to the ends of the earth if it means he'll hold your hand along the way. And that's when everything hits all at once—the realization comes crashing down like a waterfall. 
You were hopelessly in love with him, the man who brings you flowers every Friday night. In love with the man who holds the door open for you, gives you his favorite jackets, and stays up late or wakes up early to learn your favorite comfort meal (even if it means failing 17 times in the process and ruining Maverick's kitchen), the man who serenades you to classic rock ballads with the taste of rum on his lips. 
This was Rooster Bradshaw, and he was your soulmate.
“But I already lost him,” your voice falters as you struggle to find the right words to say, “I can’t.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. That man is going to stay waiting for you until the day his body is buried six feet underground. Deny it all you want, but he’ll keep waiting long after he takes his last breath.”
You let out a long sigh and stood up. “Okay.”
You’re hesitant as you step inside the small hospital room. He’s asleep, but he must’ve sensed your presence and his eyes flutter open. 
“Sweetheart…”
“Bradley.” He moves over a bit for you, and you sit down next to him. “You’re alive.”
“Sorry for not dying. That must’ve disappointed you,” he jokes. If he’s in any sort of pain, he manages to mask it behind a soft smile. “I’m really glad you’re here.”
“I waited ten hours.”
“You should’ve gone home and slept.”
Closing your eyes, you rest your head against his chest. “I wouldn’t be able to sleep knowing that you weren’t okay.”
He hums some tune against the crook of your neck; lips brushing over your skin. “But I came back, like I promised. I’m okay, because you are.”
Helovesmehelovesmehelovesme.
As if he could read your mind, he leans in just that bit closer. You look up at him and your heart somersaults in your chest. 
When your lips meet, everything clicks into place and it’s like you finally found the missing puzzle piece you’d been searching for. He was here all along; it made so much sense. Everything else fades away into the background as you get lost in the feeling of him and him alone. You knew from the moment he stuck out his hand and told you with a million-dollar smile “I’m Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw, and I can make a mean lasagna or anything else you want,” that choosing him would be the single best thing you ever could’ve done. 
And you were most certainly right about that now. 
“I kept it, you know.” he murmurs as you eventually break away, “I didn’t think it would last as long as it did, but here it is.”
“What…what are you talking about?”
He fingers dip below the scoop of his T-shirt and he brings out the glittering charm, laying it in his hand. “You gave it to me ages ago. It was a while ago but I still remember the exact time and place. August 5th, 2010, 2:26 a.m. We were both on the verge of falling asleep.”
Your heart grows warmer. “Roos…”
Rooster opens the locket, and inside is a picture of you beaming as you wrapped your arms around him from behind. So young and so in love, but not yet knowing how you felt about each other. 
“I think this is what kept me alive up there. I was in the air long enough to think about and reflect on the fact that I was dying, but I knew I had to come home to you. I was dying, Y/N, but you saved me. If you didn’t come into my life right when you did then I wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t be telling you that I love you.”
He has you at a loss for words yet again. It didn’t matter that you’d known each other for years because he would always find a way to steal your breath. The once-tiny caterpillars crawling in your stomach had morphed into giant butterflies that never stopped fluttering when he came too close.
He leans in and he’s kissing you again; this time it’s like you’re his sole source of oxygen and he’s in desperate need of fresh air. Your grip on his hand tightens as he deepens the kiss, and you pray to God that your heart won’t explode into a million pieces like it did when you thought you wouldn’t see him again. 
I’ve died and come back to life twice now, Rooster tells himself. 
And both of those times, you’re the angel that magically appears to save him from a certain, unfortunate fate. 
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tags, including people who may be interested (sorry if this list seems off, it hasn't been updated in a while hahah): @sarcastic-sourwolf @totomoshi @sebastianstangirl01 @purelyfiction @lunamoonbby @hazelgirl355 @multifandom-fangirl4 @paintballkid711 @buckysbeloved @lyn-lc @spawn0fsatan @milestomaverick @teacactusworld @cherry-waved @ellabellabus07 @vitanileon @lam-ila @criminalyetminimal @whatlovegattado @queenbbarnes @yeehawnana @t-stark35 @thesunsetphantoms @danirose-0420 @callalily2000 @the-untamed-soul @shizzybarnaclee @bananaa @luvfurdogs @shalaniela @unordinare @and-claudia @lgg5989 @katiemcrae @elenavampire21 @joyfullyswimmingface @nyx2021 @cosm1cfae @ellabellabus07 @vane28282 @bittergomez @littlebadariell @tallrock35 @whotfatemywaffles @hoedameronsworld @aerangi @julia-marshal @uwiuwi
(also if you filled out the general taglist form/top gun taglist form and you're not on here, that means i couldn't tag you for some reason)
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Babe wake up laurelicious has returned with more modern au headcanons 🥱 thank u to everyone who loves on these posts and adds their own silly things to it!!! Y’all make me very happy and I’m glad we can share this goofy universe!!
Previous sillies:
1 2 3 4 5 6
See yall unda da cut 😼😼😼
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-little miss Unnamed Marston Daughter has absolutely been blasting Olivia Rodrigo’s new album around the house
Everyone complains but John finds himself quietly murmuring “seeing u tonight… it’s a bad idea right??” While he’s brushing his teeth
Abigail tries to be supportive and plays it while she drives the kids to school, now she and Jack know all the words to Vampire and listen to it once they’ve already dropped UMD off
-both Marston children always dress as something weird for Halloween
John and Abigail stay up late making the costumes for their weirdo children bc they love them :)
On a similar note when John and Arthur were kids they were little matching power rangers and if you bring it up to Dutch he WILL cry over it bc he loves his babies
-the entire Marston family takes Halloween way too seriously to be completely honest
Abigail and John are the cool family in the neighborhood with the really good candy
Dutch and Hosea have now graduated to the old person level of giving out full sized bars but the window of opportunity before they turn in for the night is SMALL so all the kids in their neighborhood sprint to their house first
Charles and Arthur give out tootsie rolls and milk duds. That’s it.
-the following are songs John cried to as a teenager:
Fall for You by Secondhand Serenade
Miserable at Best by Mayday Parade
Scars by Papa Roach
Disenchanted by MCR
-John and Javier were absolutely bffs in middle/high school, they kissed once at a party then never spoke of it again
Javier is now the cool childless uncle that they all see once a year and brings the kids cool gifts
-when Arthur was a teenager he got caught sneaking back into the house after curfew, he was grounded for a month
John was the asshole little sibling who was super excited that his brother was in trouble
-Arthur wears slippers, Charles wears fuzzy socks. I’m right
-Charles uses nice shampoo/conditioner and Arthur is always hovering around on wash days:)
-Arthur has broken every single toe like. 5 times at least.
-Charles and Arthur love corny ass reality TV
They started watching the bachelor to make fun of it, but now they tune in every single week and have their favorites
Tell me Arthur wouldn’t love the masked singer. He goes nuts every single time (“Charles!!!!!! They opened it up and it was KERMIT!?! That’s too good!”)
-Because Isaac doesn’t live with them full time these two go absolutely bananas when he comes to stay with them, Charles is scrubbing down the house while Arthur clears out the grocery store of all his favorite snacks :)
Before he visits Arthur is texting Eliza like “what drama should I know?? Any new friends? A girlfriend? A boyfriend?!?” Just so he’s up to date
-Arthur loves Raisin Bran/Corn Nuts/other old man cereals
-we’ve touched on this before but Charles’ mom absolutely adores Arthur and when she comes over she’s basically shoving Charles out of the way like “my baby darling Arthur how are you!!!🥰”
-Isaac plays baseball and Charles and Arthur are full on sport dads in the best way possible
They bring snacks for the team, they’re sitting in those little fold up chairs, they’re cheering louder than everyone else in the stands, etc.
Arthur ‘sentimental ass’ Morgan keeps a little box of all the memorabilia from baseball throughout the years :)
This was a particularly silly batch, methinks. As always if anyone wants me to add other characters into this universe lmk😼 alsooooo I have started writing little oneshots/drabbles/etc expanding this if anyone would be interested in reading them!! No promises on when they’d be done but I think it would be a good time hehe
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enterpris · 4 months
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An Education in Attraction, Chapter 8
Pairing: Reader x Gojo
Summary: It's spring when you start your Master's degree. As the flowers and leaves unfold, so too do your feeling for Gojo
Warnings: None
Previous Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7
Ao3: PlaidSparrow
Early Tuesday morning you receive an email from your Learning Theories professor informing the class that he’s ill and class is canceled, leaving your afternoon free. The notification on your phone wakes you up bright and early, so you eat a filling breakfast at the cafeteria and try to wake up for the rest of your day. Since Gojo isn’t in the Learning Theories course, you send him a quick text asking if he’d like to work on the project after your Curriculum class. 
He’s generally quick to respond the other times you’ve messaged him, but you haven’t gotten an answer by the time you’re ready to head to your Curriculum class. It’s possible that he’s not on campus, though it seems his attendance in class lately has been much more regular than it was at the beginning of the term. You conclude he’s probably busy, but any free time this late in the term is a godsend. You can build out the research section in the meantime, finding and citing sources has been extremely time consuming. 
Campus is in the full swing of summer. It’s bustling with more undergraduates and foreign students than usual- here for short term or study abroad programs. The sun beats down as you take the familiar walk to the Graduate School of Education, the humidity makes the air thick and your shirt stick to your back. It’s a relief when you make it to your building, savoring the blast of air conditioning as you push in the door.
You set up for class and begin talking to Kuzume about when she’s free this week when you feel your phone buzz in your pocket. You excuse yourself from the conversation and check- Gojo is free after class today, and he wants to continue to knock out some of the fine tuning of your project.
It would have been nice if he had responded before you left your room this morning, you huff internally. You’d forgone bringing your research notes for an additional text in your field, which won’t be very useful for working together. Maybe you can just run back to your dorm and meet him in the library afterwards.
You’re about to send a response when the man himself enters the room. You catch his attention and he gives you a quick nod of acknowledgement. You’ll just tell him your plan after class, no need to keep your phone out when the lesson will start any moment. One thing that hasn’t changed is Gojo’s near tardiness to class. 
Class passes quickly in a rapid paced lecture from your professor. You’re busy taking notes and absorbing the new information about evaluating effective curricula. This framework could affect the project you’re working on, but more importantly, these skills can help you better assess if your students are learning and what they’re retaining. While high school students have mastered the basics in each subject, it’s imperative that they can build deeper understanding before moving on to higher education or the workforce. 
After the lecture has wrapped up, Saito walks over to you and Kuzume.
“A free afternoon! Want to grab lunch?” She asks. You’re not the only one excited for an unexpected bit of free time. 
“I’ve actually already got plans,” you say, motioning to Gojo where he’s still seated across the room. “We’re so close to finishing the project, I don’t want to stress about it any more.”
“No problem at all, we’ll catch up over dinner later?” She links her arm through Saito’s arm and starts pulling her away. You’d updated the two women about your more successful partner work, and Kuzume’s eyes sparkle as she replies. She’s clearly looking forward to an update later.
You nod and promise to hang out soon, then head over to Gojo.
“Hey, sorry for not replying earlier.”
“No worries, I figured we’d walk over to the cafe or library and get started?” He’s casual, seemingly to a fault. 
“I actually have to run back to my dorm and grab the correct notes, but I can meet you at whichever is easier.”
“You live on campus?” You nod. “Let’s just walk together.”
It’s a little forward of him to invite himself over, but it should just be a quick stop. Plus, you reason to yourself, it’ll be the fastest way to dive right into the paper. 
“Alright.” 
The walk back to your dorm is mostly quiet, and though it’s not uncomfortable, you can’t blame the sweat or your anxiety completely on the humid weather. You unlock the door to your apartment and open it wide.
“Come on in,” you say. “It should just take a minute to find them.”
You’re not quite sure where you left the research notes, you have piles of texts on your desk and on the side table next to your Western style bed. Gojo slips his shoes off and comes into the room. He’s quiet as he surveys your space.
While you sift through the loose pages of notes on your desk, Gojo steps closer to the wall, hands in his pockets, and looks at the photos you’ve put up on the wall- your family, friends from undergrad, your home abroad. Above your desk there are smaller pictures and keepsakes from your travels around Japan. 
The pages on your desk are mostly notes from your other class, and won’t help with the project.
The right notes must be in the stack of books on the floor. You grab them and sit on the bed, quickly paging through your handwritten notes. Gojo turns to look where you’re sitting and you look up at him. His head is tilted just slightly as he looks down at you, and it suddenly feels very intimate to have him in your space. Even though you’ve warmed up to each other, your conversations with Gojo have centered around academics, you know hardly anything about his personal life. Now he’s seeing yours on display.
Looking around the dorm, you try to imagine what he might see in his first time viewing it. Light from the window pours across the room, painting the natural wood furniture in warm brown tones. Besides the piles of books, you’re mostly tidy. You’ve kept decorations simple- just a couple of small plants and the photos of your favorite memories. Surely seeing your dorm won’t change his opinion of you, but it’s almost unnerving that Gojo hasn’t said anything at all about your space. 
You look back at the stack of papers in your hands, the notes have got to be in this last group. After swiftly shuffling through the pile, you finally have what you need. Gojo is still absorbed in looking at your stuff, you can just see a quarter of his face from the angle, but you take the moment of peace to absorb him. 
Your eyes trace the slant of his jaw and the back of his neck. For the first time since he was rude to you, you feel your face warm and your stomach flutter. He really is handsome, and since you had puzzled out his dedication to his future students, your heart had irrevocably softened towards him. While he’s distracted, you allow yourself a moment to fantasize- perhaps he’d like to stay friends or colleagues after you finish working on this project. You can imagine meeting him for coffee or having him over to study, maybe even growing closer. 
“I found them,” is what you force from your lips. You don’t want to spend the whole afternoon with Gojo surveying your room. 
He finally tears his attention from your personal items and turns to face you. His expression and posture are totally neutral and comfortable, as if he’s visited a thousand times. 
“It looked like the library was pretty quiet today. Want to work there?”
“Yea, sure.” You respond. 
Gojo leads the way back to the library, where the two of you settle in the annex. The good weather must have drawn most of the student body outside, because the usually busy space is emptier than normal. You settle at one of the smaller tables and begin to review the data points to support your curricula plan. 
Since your working relationship with Gojo has improved, the two of you have made excellent progress on the body of your paper- nailing down learning objectives and discussing where your fields might have some commonalities. If you continue working at this pace, there should be plenty of time for edits and adjustments before it’s due. 
Conversation is moving quickly and you’re rapidly typing some notes as conversation lulls for a moment. 
“Soo.” Gojo interrupts your note taking flow. “You didn’t go to school here?”
You look up at him and pause your typing.  
“Yeah. Actually all my school before this program was abroad.”
He flips the pen over his fingers again. And again. His fingers are slender and graceful, and the bones of his knuckles are delicate in his large hands. He’s dexterous and purposeful in his movements. He’s staring down at the pen and you can’t read his face through the sunglasses. 
He stays quiet and you suppose that’s the end of it and turn back to your computer, trying to remember what you were typing. 
“Did you like it? The summers?”
Automatically, your eyes flick back up to him. His expression hasn’t changed, he’s acting like his attention is entirely consumed by the pen.
Apparently, the trip to your dorm has piqued his curiosity. While your upbringing outside of Japan is usually an eccentric fact when you introduce yourself, it’s never really come up in conversations with your partner. It’s a bit touching that he’s opening up and asking you. 
The immediate answer to Gojo’s question is yes. But because it’s the first time he’s really asked you about yourself, you take a moment to think about what the summers were like. When the words do come, they’re slow and sweet with nostalgia, like the maple syrup on pancakes you once ate. You take your time when you do reply. 
 “Yeah. I liked it a lot. My parents both worked during the day so I kind of got to do whatever I wanted. My friends and I would ride bikes through the neighborhood or hang out at the park. While I enjoy school now, it was really nice to have the time off.” 
You pause, not sure if you want to ask the question on your lips. He hadn’t reacted poorly the last time you pushed a little, so you commit to speaking before you can change your mind. 
“Did you enjoy your summers? When you were younger?”
You keep your eyes on the computer screen, casual just like he had been, but you can feel his attention switch to you. 
Gojo seems to take a moment to consider the question. His expression doesn’t change and you wonder if he might just change the subject like the last time you met. 
"They were busy."
You nod. That seems to be the consensus from the students you've taught and the other pupils in your Master's program. You’re pleasantly surprised that he answered at all, and you don’t expect any more than that. Though you’re on good terms with Gojo now, his answers are generally still clipped and to the point. 
"I spent most of my summers studying. Not a lot of free time."
When you look up at him, there’s a hint of a furrow on his brow. 
But his expression shifts to an easy grin in the time it takes you to blink and then he’s back to his normal genial disposition. 
“At least that’s paying off now. I get to miss class and travel just cuz I’ve already written papers.”
A huff that might be able to pass for a laugh escapes you. “If only we were all so lucky.”
Gojo leans back in the chair and rests his hands behind his head. “It is nice being able to cite myself in the research section. I bet no one else in the program can do that.” His smile is a little conceited, and you’d be less charmed if it was worn by anyone else. 
You make a point of looking back down at your computer, but internally you’re intrigued. Gojo’s never been quite so open with you, and you find yourself eager to learn more. The two of you work well together, and you wouldn’t mind getting to know Gojo better outside the context of your project. 
A month ago, you wouldn’t have dared to follow up with a question, but something’s shifted in your time writing together. After his last answer, you’re nearly positive that he won’t react negatively if you do push for a little more info now.
“You still seem pretty busy. I don’t know if anyone else in the program has missed as many classes as you either.” 
Your voice is light, and you’re pleased to tease him back after he had caught you off-guard in the cafe last weekend. 
“Special case, remember?” He taps the side of his head. “If I want to be able to cite my articles, gotta write ‘em first.”
So he’s still working in academia while enrolled in the program. You’d thought teaching on the side was bad enough, you can’t imagine keeping up with assigned readings and assignments plus outside research and writing. Evidently Kuzume and Saito were right. 
If anything Gojo seems to be invigorated by the good natured ribbing. His smile is as wide as it was in the cafe and the two of you have done some of your best work these last couple sessions. Perhaps all along you just needed some banter to grease the wheels of your relationship. 
“Truly, the world is deprived of Gojo et al.” 
He beams at you, “Not for long. The program’s only two years long.”
You can’t help a good natured eye roll at that. 
You settle back into actually working after that, and the last thirty minutes in the cafe prove fruitful. Gojo is engaging and is insightful on where to insert citations, and your own thoughts are met with genuine consideration. Your fingers are nearly sore from typing and he’s written several pages of notes too. 
You’re almost regretful to cut things off, but morning is turning into afternoon and there’s still reading you’ve got to finish before class tomorrow. So you finish typing one last sentence and then flex your hands. Summer vacation, with free time and a break for your hands, hangs deliciously just a month out of reach. 
“I think that’s a good place to stop for today. I’ve got to head out and do some more reading. If we have a couple more days like this, we’ll finally be done.”
Gojo is busy scribbling onto his pile of notes, but you’d like to think he feels as accomplished as you do. There’s another month before the due date, but it’s worth having time to revise and proofread on an assignment this big. 
“If it’s for Curriculum, watch out. The next chapter’s a pain. Took me over an hour and the author still didn’t get to the point.”
He must be talking about the flowery author you’d been reading last week. You smile back at him and start to pack up your things. Maybe you do have more in common than you thought.
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bloompompom · 2 years
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Puzzles - Chapter 7
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Completed, multi-chapter fic (7/24)
Pairing: eren jaeger x female reader
Want to start from the beginning? Find Chapter 1 here.
Word count: ~4.9k
Chapter summary: don't you love a good sleepover?
Content warnings throughout this fic: explicit sexual content, explicit language, alcohol/drug use. reader discretion advised.
Eren had it all planned out. Even more than that – he also devised both a Plan A and a Plan B. Whichever way it went, whatever plan he would have to choose, there was no way he was getting out of telling you how he felt.
Plan A was flawless. He would text you to come over, and you would arrive once Armin was out of the apartment. Every other week, Armin would leave just before 5 o'clock to meet up with some of his friends to play Dungeons & Dragons. Armin even tried to bring Eren along on one occasion. Bad idea. Now, Eren consistently referred to those evenings as 'Armin's big nerd night out.'
That was beside the point. Anyway, Armin was supposed to be gone that night. You would come over for a night filled with watching movies on the couch and stuffing your faces with takeout. Nothing out of the ordinary for the two of you. Eren hoped that it would give him just enough time to build up the courage to confess his feelings for you. And with Armin out of mind, you would have the entire apartment to yourselves, meaning that no one could eavesdrop on his shameful spew of emotions. This factor was exceptionally important to Eren on the chance that you rejected him.
Plan A was shot down at 4 o'clock that afternoon. Armin told Eren that their dungeon master was out with a cold. Eren had not a clue what that meant besides the fact that Armin would be home all night. Plan B already felt shaky, and Eren wanted nothing more than to bail on the entire plan together. Unfortunately for him, he had already texted you asking you to come by.
He stayed calm. Well, Eren’s definition of calm. Plan B was the backup for this exact scenario; one in which Armin stayed home that night. Eren absolutely did not want his nosy friend to know what was going on, especially if things ended up taking a turn for the worst. The sheer thought of Armin witnessing Eren's rejection made him want to throw up. So Plan B entailed getting you into Eren's bedroom or getting Armin into his own room – the former seeming more doable.
Eren conjured up the ridiculous plan of cranking the air conditioning to full blast before you were to arrive. Inevitably, you would get cold (you always got cold at his apartment, this just ensured it) and then Eren would offer to get you one of his sweatshirts. You would follow him to his room then, bam, the two of you were alone.
This all sounded crazy, didn't it? Eren swore it sounded better in his head last night at 3 o'clock in the morning.
Obviously, you had no indication that any of this was going to be happening tonight, not a single worry about a Plan A nor a Plan B. That was why you weren't surprised when you received your usual text from Eren asking if you wanted to come over.
You took just fifteen minutes to get ready before leaving for the evening. Going over to Eren's meant that you had to do your reverse getting ready routine. You stripped from the outfit you wore all day, changing into a pair of cotton bike shorts and a sweatshirt. You always chose your comfiest outfit since you knew you would be gone for longer than you would want to wear jeans.
And while you may have appeared like you put little effort into your appearance, there was a certain science to your effortless look. Tying your hair up in just the right way, putting on a hint of mascara and a dash of lip gloss. You always made sure you smelt nice, too, selecting your favorite jasmine perfume.
All of those little touches were near invisible to anyone but yourself, but they made you feel confident. That’s all that mattered, right?
Eren swung the front door open just seconds after you knocked. Just as you predicted, he greeted you in the doorway with a cartoonishly large smile. He always seemed so excited to see you as if your arrival was a surprise, like he hadn't just texted you to come over.
His starry-eyed expression was short-lived. It dropped into a look of confusion as he saw the puzzle box you held just below your eyes.
"Is Armin here?" you asked, unable to hide the eagerness in your voice.
Plan B was down the garbage disposal, and there was no Plan C.
Eren groaned. He stepped aside, opening the door further so you could sneak by. You peered around Eren's tall frame and spotted Armin sitting at their table. He looked up from his laptop at the sound of his name. His expression quickly matched yours when he noticed the box in your grasp.
"It finally came in?" he asked, now starting to stand up from his chair. You bobbed your head in a nod, smiling at the excitement that oozed from your friend.
You and Armin ordered this puzzle weeks ago but it felt more like centuries. The elation that came from your voices may have sounded over the top, but it was more than justified considering you both thought the puzzle's delivery was a lost cause.
Shockingly, it came today. When you took your first step out of your apartment that evening, your foot kicked the package aside. You nearly stumbled over it. You examined the box and were consumed with delight once you realized what it was. It was perfect timing considering you were just on your way over to Armin and Eren's apartment.
The puzzle's image depicted a scene from one of your and Armin's favorite movies. You agreed when you ordered it that you would help Arin glue it together once it was completed. He was desperately looking forward to framing it to decorate his bedroom wall.
You and Armin threw off the box’s lid and dug through the assortment of pieces. Eren finally sauntered over to join you. He leaned against the wall and begrudgingly folded his arms across his chest.
"So you didn't come over to see me?" Eren attempted to play his comment off as a joke, but he let some sincerity slip through. There was a masked disappointment in his words, maybe even a dash of hurt, that alluded to the fact that he was perhaps slightly offended.
You had no idea about the plans, completely unaware that you had thrown off Eren's entire night.
"Duh," you joked. You peeked up from the table with a grin, a glimmer of mischievousness flickering through your irises.
Eren sighed and took a seat across from you and Armin. He pulled his phone from his pocket to occupy himself while the two of you sorted through the mess of puzzle pieces.
His attention wasn't entirely grabbed by his phone, though. He continuously found himself captivated by you, lost in your titters of enjoyment. Each of your giggles threatened to tug at the corners of his mouth and give way to a smile. He would peek up to steal a glimpse of the way your face would turn pensive as you scoured for a specific piece. You would bite and lick at your bottom lip in thought, knitting your eyebrows together. It was just so cute.
Armin observed these glances through the corner of his eye. Truly, Eren should have known better by this point than to let his guard slip around his keen best friend. Seeing Eren's boyish side come out warmed Armin's heart. Sometimes it felt like years since he last saw Eren candidly enjoying himself.
Armin found it easy to predict your visits – just as a meteorologist can predict the weather. Eren's mood would drastically shift. He would pace around the apartment, aimlessly picking up anything that appeared out of place. He would fix his appearance each time he caught sight of his reflection. It all occurred without fail before you would suddenly arrive. Cloudy with a chance of a highly-anticipated visitor.
Yes, it was more than fair to say Armin was a very observant guy. But it would take an absolute idiot to not notice the absence of random girls from their apartment. There was a handful of girls that Armin familiarized himself with over the years. Never making their acquaintance as they would always come and go. He would only see them hurry behind Eren to his bedroom, leaving well before the sun had a chance to rise.
Eren's friends never would have guessed that he would become the type of man that could effortlessly pull women. Growing up, they lovingly thought him to be more of a twerp. And it was true. In reality, Eren never really grew out of his juvenile personality. His hot-headedness would show itself in more heated moments like during his typical brawls with Jean.
Armin viewed Eren's relationship with women from a similar perspective – Eren didn't (couldn't?) handle his emotions very well and, while fleeting, sleeping with women helped to push away those particularly painful feelings. It's easier to fuck until you were stupid, unable to think about anything outside of yourself. It's human nature.
Both Mikasa and Armin knew that Eren had voids that he was chasing to fill. This was just one outlet for him. But they would never dare to say this to his face.
Those frequent, late-night visitors abruptly disappeared weeks ago. It didn't take Armin long to realize the correlation. The timing aligned perfectly with the night of Sasha's party. The night when Eren had ample opportunity to bring home another new visitor, but instead he met you.
Your time with Eren was different from the others. You never followed Eren to his room to hide out for the night. You would immediately flop onto the couch and wait until Eren joined you. There, you would simply lounge together – playing video games, watching movies, or just scrolling through your phones and taking the occasional moment to show the other a funny video.
The biggest difference was that Armin would actually see you in the morning. Not often, but it happened. On more than one occasion, too. Whether it was that last drink that sent you over your limit, or the extra episode that you all just had to watch that made your eyelids a bit too heavy, Eren allowed you to spend the night. The same debate always ensued. Eren would tell you to sleep in his bed and offer to stay on the couch. You would protest. This bickering would continue until Eren would have to nearly drag your tired body to his room.
Armin would know if you had spent the night from the very moment he would leave his bedroom in the morning. Eren would be curled up on the couch, a pillow always tossed over his face to shield his eyes from the light that peered through their old blinds. This was always followed by the sight of you in the kitchen wearing the same clothes as the day before. You never failed to make yourself a cup of coffee, but never before already having a mug set out for early-riser Armin.
No matter how close you became as 'friends,' Armin couldn't ignore the tension that was growing between you and Eren. The way your eyes would stare at Eren for just a bit too long. The way that Eren's arm would wrap just a little lower on your waist than normal. Truthfully, it sometimes was difficult for Armin to hang out with the two of you as you both seemed painfully oblivious to your feelings for one another.
Your head started to feel hazy, each puzzle piece now blending with the next. With your hands on the edge of the table, you pushed your seat out so you could step away for a glass of water. As you took your first couple of sips, you heard footsteps heading toward the kitchen.
Eren stood on the opposite side of the counter. He slid his phone across the slick surface. You watched as it skittered toward you, catching it just in time before it could crash to the floor.
"I'm ordering delivery. Get whatever you'd like," Eren said.
You stared down at the phone. It was unlocked and opened to the menu of some restaurant you hadn't heard of. You rested your elbow on the counter, face placed into your palm, thoughtfully browsing your options. You could hear Eren call out for Armin's order.
You failed to notice when Eren returned to the kitchen. He hovered over you from behind. His hands planted themselves against the counter on either side of you.
If he wasn't able to confess his feelings for you today then he might as well have a little bit of fun.
Eren's face was just beside your own. He spoke in a hushed tone into your ear, the breathy sort of voice that was enough to make your toes curl. "Anything look good?"
You swallowed hard and hoped that he didn't hear. You could practically hear the smug grin he wore, the curve of his lips around each word that left his mouth.
"I think so," you answered. Liar. You didn't actually think about anything other than him – the warm, swirling sensation he put in your chest – while you clicked through the phone to make your selection.
You spun around on the heels of your feet. Eren's hands were still on the countertop, his arms trapping you on either side. Your chest was merely inches away from him, your back firmly pressed against the edge of the counter. You brought your hand up to return his phone. With a smirk, he took it from you and pushed it down into his pocket. His eyes didn't leave yours once.
You were more than well aware of the restlessness within you. The incessant feeling had only doubled in size throughout the time you spent together. At first, it was easy to ignore the rush of emotions you experienced each time you saw Eren. But as your friendship grew, all of your feelings became even more jumbled up in that cluttered head of yours. It was as if the closer you became with Eren, the more challenging it felt to address the feelings you held for him. Every touch, every longing gaze – it all started to feel forbidden, something you could never do with someone who was only a friend.
Then, of course, there was the kiss. Not just 'the' kiss, actually; there were multiple kisses. Three kisses in one night, to be exact. The memories nagged at you every time Eren was close by. All the while, you still never talked to Eren about it. And he failed to do just the same. Those unspoken words hung heavy in the air. They formed a strict divide that separated your friendship and what could possibly be something more.
As Connie would say, it was messy.
Eren drew his bottom lip in between his teeth. His eyes glossed over your features, roaming downward to focus on your lips. You remain still, a deer in headlights. You often wondered when all of the pent-up tension would become too much to bear, one of you clumsily toppling over that troublesome divide. Maybe this was the moment you were secretly begging for.
Knowing that Armin was working on the puzzle on the other side of the wall sent a wave of anxiety through you. The wave crashed even harder as Eren started to lean forward. You could feel his breath against your face. Closing your eyes, you paused to allow him to finally kiss you again.
"I'll go ahead and place the order then."
Your eyelids snapped open. His mouth, still just centimeters away from yours, formed a cocky grin. He stood up straight and turned around in the opposite direction. As he strolled out of the kitchen, he looked over his shoulder to impishly wiggle his eyebrows at you.
You stood abandoned in the kitchen, questioning if that actually happened or if you had made it all up. Eren seemed to have an awful lot of fun teasing you. It came effortlessly to him, the way he could turn his charm on and off like a light switch. Honestly, it made you question if all the tension you felt was one-sided from the start.
You followed him out of the kitchen only to find that he was lazed across the couch like he had been there all day. You approached the couch and stood over him. Without looking up from his phone, he lifted his legs to make room for you to sit. This had become a well-established gesture within your strange relationship. You sat without putting up a fight, his legs falling on top of your lap.
"So," you said slowly. "When's the food going to get here?"
"Like, forty-five minutes."
There it was again. That icky silence. You hadn't felt its awful presence since The Incident. It had been a while since you felt flustered and nervous around Eren. And it was obvious that he could tell. He remained with the same pleased look on his face as he continued to mess around on his phone.
Eren was, in fact, pleased with himself. Seeing you like this, back to your blushy self, only fueled his confidence in telling you how he felt – whenever he would finally get around to it, that is.
A couple of more minutes passed. Eren asked, "Are you staying the night?"
You blinked a few times, overthinking the question just as you overthought everything else. He had never asked you that before. You replied, "I wasn't planning on it."
"Oh. Well, you're sort of dressed like a bum so I just figured."
His delivery was flat but you could still see his wicked smirk, like he knew he had successfully pushed another one of your buttons. You pinched one of his legs that he had draped over you. "Sorry. I didn't realize it was a formal occasion."
There was another pause in the conversation. "You should, though," Eren eventually said. You looked over at him with a questioning eyebrow. "Stay the night, I mean. You spent all that time with Armin earlier so it's only fair."
Just as before, you heard the hint of sincerity in his voice. The sweet timbre that continuously lured you in.
"If you insist. But let me sleep on the couch this time," you said.
You were just so predictable to him. "We'll see."
Eren was winging Plan C all on his own.
Armin joined the two of you in the living room once the food arrived. You each enjoyed your meals while watching the latest show that the three of you started to binge-watch the last time you were over.
"You know," Armin said between bites. "Eren wouldn't let us watch another episode until you were here."
"Is that right?" You looked over to Eren, a beaming grin on your face. He was already glaring at Armin.
You could see that he was slightly embarrassed, only making the situation that much more endearing. He didn't bother to entertain your question, opting to take another mouthful of food instead. You nudged his side with your elbow. Two could play this little game he created.
"Would you quit it?" he asked. A little snappy, but he covered it up with a chuckle. He plucked a french fry from your plate and tossed it into his mouth.
"Hey!" You shielded your plate with your hands. Eren leaned back into the couch and focused on the television screen.
As dinner finished, the three of you made yourselves more comfortable while you continued the show. Armin sat on the other side of Eren, curled up into a blanket as he leaned against the armrest. On a less peaceful note, you and Eren tugged back and forth at the blanket you shared.
"You have to share it," Eren jokingly demanded. "It's my blanket."
"But I'm your guest and I'm cold!" You yanked the blanket, pulling it high enough that only your head peeked out. You peered over the fabric to look at Eren. The bright screen lit up his eyes. You could see the lively expression on his face.
Eren forgot to set the A.C. back to its usual setting.
He wrapped his arm over your shoulder and pulled you into him. "Then come here if you're so cold."
There was a coquettish tune in his voice. It was forward, to say the least. If you hadn't clung to your composure you would have let your breath hitch in your throat. If that happened it would have been rather obvious that you were feeling a bit more than a spark, wouldn't it?
Your cheek was pressed into his chest, and you could feel the subtle rise and fall of his breathing. The new position was certainly warmer than sitting on your own. You weren’t sure if that was from Eren’s body temperature or the titillation that coursed through you. You felt like you were in middle school again, getting all worked up over holding a boy’s hand.
As you slouched your body against him, he adjusted the blanket so you were both adequately covered for the first time that night. Though you thought your body would never calm down from the electric feeling, you oddly felt yourself beginning to relax for the first time that night.
Your eyelids were weighed down, fluttering shut as the umpteenth episode of the night started to auto-play. You nodded off, completely unaware of the way your arm unconsciously slipped around Eren's torso.
You were only slightly awakened by the feeling of your body being lifted off of the cozy couch. Lost in your drowsiness, you didn't resist when Eren carried you bridal style to his bedroom. You instinctively nestle into the warmth of his chest. In your dreamy fog, you believed that you could feel his heartbeat quicken under your touch.
He was careful as he placed you onto his bed. It was still unkempt from this morning, making it easy for him to lay the comforter over you and tuck you in. Once you were met with the coolness of his sheets, you tossed your arms around the pillows and snuggled in deeper.
You listened for the usual sound of the bedroom door closing behind Eren as he made his way to the couch. There was only silence. You were surprised when you noticed the mattress begin to rustle, Eren crawling in on the opposite side to lay beside you.
You just froze, now entirely awake. To think, you thought that him cuddling you on the couch was too much to handle. Now this?
Eren could sense that you were more awake than you had led on. Probably pretty anxious, too, knowing you. Though he found your nervousness cute, the last thing he wanted to do was make you uncomfortable. He stayed put on the opposite side of the bed, a good distance between the two of you.
After all that scheming, he was able to finally have you alone to himself without the help of some wild plan. And though he could try to see if you were alert enough to hear his feelings, just seeing you in his bed was enough for him. He wanted nothing more than to be close to you. Having you here with him toyed with the line of the boundary he had set with other women.
There was a tightness in your stomach that you couldn't shake. It pulsed with every breath that you heard from Eren as he relaxed into his bed. Your anxiety began to shapeshift into something entirely different, now replaced by a neediness that demanded your attention. It told you – begged you – to give in to your desires. It wanted you to finally create a weak point in that stupid divide between you and Eren.
You scooched your body backward. An awkward move, but you were able to press your back against Eren's chest ever so gently. The move was evidently well-received. Eren's arm slid around your waist almost immediately. His hand rested upon your stomach, his warmth now erasing the unease that resided just below his touch. His face settled into the crook of your shoulder, his hair tickling the side of your face.
That simple, benevolent gesture caused goosebumps to scatter across your skin. You heard Eren's breathy laugh. He placed soft kisses on the delicate area where your neck met your shoulder. Each kiss lasted longer than the last.
You tried your best to remain still but you twitched every time his lips met your skin. You let out a deep sigh, wanting nothing more than the feeling to last forever. His hand traveled from your waist and up your chest, stopping once his fingers took a gentle hold of your chin. He used the leverage to turn your face toward him as he leaned over you. Your equally-dazed eyes met for a blissful moment.
Eren didn't know what to say. He had you in the perfect spot to tell you everything. There was so much to confess, words that he planned down to the very syllable. But now that he was staring at your doe-eyed expression, his mind felt blank. All he could think about was how good it felt to have you there with him.
"You don't know how long I've wanted this," he whispered. His fingers caressed the side of your face. His lips met the tip of your nose for a fleeting peck.
Your surroundings felt fuzzy. You couldn't imagine a sweeter song than the words he spoke, but you did not have the wherewithal to even form a sentence. His low, amorous voice left your thoughts as an incoherent mess.
You were so tired. So, so tired. You looked at him with a smile before turning to face forward once more. You cuddled back into Eren's hold more closely than before. His arm wrapped itself around your waist again, his hand placed just under the hem of your shirt. You placed your hand onto his, your thumb rubbing over his skin in reassurance, silently telling him that this was all you wanted, too.
When Armin woke up the next morning, he was surprised to find that the couch was empty. Armin was almost certain that Eren had carried you to bed, so why wasn't he in his usual spot? Armin began to question if you had even stayed the night when he noticed the kitchen was empty. The coffee pot was turned off and there was no mug waiting for him. He was actually a little saddened by the sight.
He sat at one of the stools at the counter, replaying last night's events in his head as he started to cast doubt on his own memory. Shortly after, he was interrupted by the sound of footsteps behind him. Swiveling around in his seat, he watched as you sheepishly made your way to the kitchen, Eren following just behind you.
When you woke up that morning you barely remembered the night before. Everything was hazy since you had passed out on the couch. You allowed your eyes to open slowly, taking in the newly familiar sight of Eren's bedroom. What wasn't familiar was that Eren was beside you. You rolled over to see he was still sleeping soundly. Just the sight of his face brought back all of the emotions you felt the night before.
You seized the opportunity to openly admire him. For once, he couldn't throw some snide comment your way. He looked so calm, more relaxed than you had ever seen him before. It was like all of his boundless thoughts were finally turned off for once.
You listened to the melodic breaths that escaped his slightly parted lips. The gentle rhythm was nearly enough to drift you back to sleep.
His hair wasn't tied back in his usual loose bun. This was the first time that you could recall seeing his hair completely down, untamed as pieces fell into his face. Without a single thought, you brushed the strands from his face, gingerly caressing his cheek as you did so. You wanted to kick yourself when you saw his eyes begin to flitter open.
Your faces were just inches apart, eyes now staring into one another. You shared the same air through tired breaths. Eren took your face into his hand, languidly pressing his lips against yours. The kiss you had been craving since he left you in the kitchen.
Pulling away with a faintly satisfied smile, Eren murmured a sleepy, "Good morning."
As you stood in the kitchen, you were now faced with the awkward predicament of having to face Armin. Little did you know, Armin saw this coming from a mile away. He knew it was only a matter of time before you and Eren found yourselves in this situation. If anything, he wondered why it took so damn long.
You sat next to Armin, watching as Eren walked over to flick on the coffee pot. As he began to fill it with water, he asked, "Do you both want a cup?"
Both you and Armin nodded. It didn't take another second before Armin fell back into his inquisitive habits. "So, how did you guys sleep?"
You felt your face twist with embarrassment. You told yourself there was no reason to be shy – nothing really happened between you and Eren. Still, the implication that something further than kissing went down made you feel apprehensive.
"Slept like a baby," Eren cooly said. "Especially since I didn't have to sleep on the couch."
"I never said you had to sleep on the couch in the first place," you hastily reminded.
Eren chuckled as he scooped coffee grinds into the filter. "Yeah, yeah."
The kitchen was filled with the bubbling sound of brewing coffee, pattering as it dripped into the glass pot. Armin continued to dart his eyes between you and Eren, attempting to wrap his head around the peculiar dynamic unfolding in front of him.
As always, Eren was the one to break the silence. "Do you want to grab something to eat?"
"Sure. That sounds good," you said.
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edupunkn00b · 8 months
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Decoherence, Ch. 7: Probabilities
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Creative Commons 1.0 Public Domain
Prev - Probabilities - Next - Masterpost - [ AO3 ] - Playlist
“It takes two to tango, but only one to seriously fuck up some shit.” -Non-zero Probabilities by N.K. Jeminsin
WC: 1768 - Rated: T - CW: swearing -
2113, October 19, Jakarta, Indonesia
Remus woke with a start, a thin sheen of sticky sweat from the morning’s heat already coating his skin. He groaned and rolled out of bed, stripping off the sheets to let them hang in the sun. The barometer was steady, so while the lack of rain meant no relief from the oppressive humidity, it also meant he could leave the bedding to sun dry without fear of returning home to it being soaked in a sudden downpour. The sheets would do well enough with a little sun-freshening. He wouldn’t have enough of his water ration saved up until the end of the week, anyway.
Laundry would have to wait.
After a two minute sunshower, he dressed and dragged his hands through still-damp hair before stepping into his sandals and snagging his bag. He’d grab breakfast from a vendor, no need to heat up his tiny kitchen or open the fridge unless it was completely necessary.
He stepped outside and squinted against the sun’s glare, the flash of a passing bus and its rhythmic thud over potholes giving him the illusion of a subway blasting past. He shook his head. He hadn’t seen a subway since his university days, when Boston had finally decommissioned the CAT, Big Dig be damned, and converted it into the high speed tunnel between MIT and Harvard. Nirwan was out with his delicious-scented cart and he waved, jaywalking through slow-moving taxis and the stupidly rich—and richly stupid—who bothered with them. He could walk to work faster than the cars and rickshaws could get there. Backwards.
“Selamat pagi,” he grinned and bowed his head. “What’s good this morning?”
“Ah, Mr. Prince, it’s all good,” Nirwan laughed, playing along with his joke. “How are you this morning?” he asked and plucked a sheet of foil, flipping a kerak telor onto it without looking. “Any luck with your devices?” He tapped the side of his cart. “You should tell your boss, mine works great… Siti across the street offered me ten million rupiah for it.”
Remus laughed, “I’ll keep that in mind.” He bowed his head again and paid for the proffered packet before zipping it into his bag. Nirwan pretended not to notice when he overpaid for his breakfast. The man had long since given up on giving Remus change. “Smells great, Nirwan,” he smiled, looking at the rest of his wares. “Hey, can I get an extra order of roti ganjel for Lo? It’s his favorite.”
“Lo?” he asked, preparing another pocket with savory stuffed cinnamon bread. “I thought your nephew’s name was Virgil.”
“Huh?” Remus looked up. “Yeah, it is…” He tapped his sternum, just below his collarbone. “Yeah, and um, some of those coconut klepon, too.” He grinned again, a little weaker. The sun was already getting to him. Time to get to his workshop. “Thanks,” he murmured, tucking the treats away in his bag and hurrying off to the Senyan Research Center with another bow and a wave.
~~~
“Almost,” Remus muttered, slowly tightening the guide wires at the back of the dynamo. “Almost… and—” The wire snapped with a loud twang, the broken end smacking against the casing, and his socket wrench clattered to the floor. “Damn!” he swore, slapping the work bench and wiping the sweat from his eyes with a rag. It didn’t help much, the growing darkness in the workshop left the machine fuzzy on the edges. 
He looked up. The room had gotten warmer, too. Remus caught sight of the clock on the wall and swore again as he picked up the wrench and unwound the busted wires from the dynamo.
“Fuck.” The building’s HVAC was cut off at 5 o’clock every night. They were luckier than most, with extra energy credits that allowed most floors to keep the power running for the full working day—and, when he was lucky, a little beyond. Higher pull machines, though… Those were all cut off. If Remus could just get this damn machine running they might be able to divert some of the energy credits they spent on lighting and the computer terminals into running the HVAC for longer. It was more efficient, anyway, to keep it going than to cycle through the power up each day.
With the HVAC out and only the barest of lighting still running, it truly was time to call it a day. He was close. The air buzzed with the energy the dynamo was collecting. He needed to find a way to store a bit more, to let it cycle in and start to run itself without the foot pedal. Unspooling the busted guide wires by feel, his fingers followed the now coiled copper.  His hand grazed where the snapped wire had dinged the aluminum casing, an impressive dent for a thin, 2mm copper wire.
Maybe there was a way to salvage more of that physical potential energy. Old automatons were basically powered with something similar, if on a larger scale. Combined, it might be enough. Nodding, he coiled up a few meters of wire and tucked it into his satchel then finally called it a night and headed out into the only slightly cooler street.
~~~
On his way to Ro’s, Remus had picked up a steaming bag of mini hotcakes from a kue cubits stand. “A rat-a-tat-tat,” he called, knocking on the door, shaking the bag near the open window. “Beware geeks bearing gifts!”
Laughing, Patton opened the door, but before he could let him in, Virgil ducked under his legs and threw himself at Remus. “Unkca Re!” Virgil cheered, reaching to be picked up. “Sorry, Poppy,” he laughed, his voice rising up into a little squeal when Remus lifted him up into the air.
“No problem, Kiddo,” he grinned. “Why don’t we let Uncle Re come on in,” Patton ushered them both inside. “And you can both go wash your hands before supper.”
“Yes, sir!” Remus grinned and carried a giggling Virgil to the kitchen sink.
“Uncka Re, Poppy’s not ‘sir,’” he said, shaking his head and patting Remus’ cheek to get his attention. “He’s Poppy.”
Laughing, Remus hip checked his brother as they passed. “You did a good job with him, Ro Bro,” he winked. “None of that ‘sir’ bull—” He caught ‘Poppy’s’ eyebrow raise over Ro’s shoulder and shrugged. “Hockey?” he finished with another laugh as he set Virgil on the counter and pumped hand soap solution into each of their palms.
“Smooth, Re,” Ro laughed, tapping a wooden spoon on the edge of the saucepan. Re drew close, tearing off a bit of naan and dipping it in the soto betawi before Ro covered it. “Very smooth,” he said, gently slapping his hand away. “Dinner will be ready in about a half hour.”
“Half hour?” Remus grinned again, eyebrows raised. “Whaddya say you help me with a little project, Vee?”
“Yes, p’ease!”
~
The very tip of Virgil’s tongue stuck out of the corner of his mouth as he sat on his knees next to Remus. Spread out on the patio table around them were bits of wire, several wooden blocks and a partially disassembled Slinky. The setting sun had finally brought some relief from the heat and Remus felt his second wind, a fog lifting away from his thinking mind. The last of his heat headache had dissipated and his smile had grown relaxed as he pointed to the tension point in the coiled wire.
“Now, watch,” he murmured and Virgil looked even closer, eyes wide as he nodded rapidly. “When I let go of this side, the other block will jump across the table.” The little boy giggled and he sat back before Remus had to remind him, plucking his safety goggles from the top of his head and placing them solemnly over his eyes.
“I’m ready,” he said, nodding again. He bounced gently in his seat and Remus chuckled when he realized he was doing the same, his own knee bouncing under the table.
“Okay, three-two-one,” he counted down aloud then released one side of the spring. He silently counted the bounces and picked up a pencil to mark the number.
“Four,” Virgil said and Remus nodded again.
“Yep, four bounces for five coils of the spring.” He marked the paper and turned it so Virgil could see. Remus wasn’t sure how much the kid could read yet, but it didn’t hurt to show him the chart. “So which one do you think was the best run?” he asked, looking down at the chart. They hadn’t hit a curve yet. Maybe they needed a different gauge of wire, or a smaller spiral?
Virgil stared at the paper and finally pointed to a row in the middle. “That one,” he said, voice full of Ro’s confidence.
Remus laughed. “I think so, too,” he said, ruffling the kid’s hair. “Don’t tell your Daddy but I think you’re gonna give Lo a run for his money someday.”
Head tilted, Virgil frowned. “Uncka Woe’s not here,” he said, patting Remus’s hand.
His head jerked up and the pencil rolled off the table. “What did you say?”
“Uncka Woe! Uncka Re!” Virgil’s sweet voice carries down the stone steps, not a shout, but loud and confident, just like Ro. “Papa says it’s time for dinner!”
“We’ll be right up!” Lo calls back and winks at me. “Go on,” he grins, “We have time for one more try.”
Lo’s excitement is palpable, buzzing under my skin as I give the dynamo one more crank. “Ready?”
“Ready!” he says and steps back, taking my hand in his as we watch the electric bulb glow on top of the new motor.
From the top step, we hear Virgil’s delighted laugh. “You did it, Uncka Woe!” 
Reaching for Virgil’s hand, Remus crouched low to try to catch the little boy’s eyes. “Wait, Vee, what did you say?” Had he imagined it? Virgil’s words echoed in his head, layering over with phantom repetitions. A quiet whisper in a dusty barn. A murmur before he fell asleep.
“Did you hear? Dinner’s ready!” Janus called from the patio door. With a cheer, Virgil scrambled out of his seat. Shaking his head, Janus laughed. “I swear you two would stay out here all night if we let you.”
“Dinner’s ready, Uncka Re,” Virgil smiled back at him. Remus shook his head, the muffled rumble and roar of traffic, a bicycle’s bell, and someone singing two doors down rushed back into his awareness. He blinked at Virgil, who simply tugged at his hand until he stood and, slowly, followed him inside.
“Yeah… dinner,” he said, and closed the screen behind them.
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justaredheadf1fan · 1 year
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The joke of Jeddah
Heyoooh!
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It's (finally) time for the good stuff, I hope at least.
I wanted to comment on this, since I didn't do it on the previous post. I obviously read about Angela's departure yesterday. I know she's pursuing something else and that she's happy with her choice but it honestly makes me sad that she's left Lewis' side. Wasn't it enough losing Seb, Mick and Daniel? Not Angela too 😭
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Quali - Saturday
Now onto praying for no crashes (bad ones at least). At the moment the only thing worth mentioning is Sargeant's time being erased in a turn where there's no space to go off actually, but what do you expect nowadays. He then almost crashed and barely made it out untouched. Lucky guy.
Other than that, more or less going through to Q2 the ones that always do. Drama starts now, here's hoping.
Sid the Sloth having engine issues is giving me back my will to live, but WHY IS THIS NOT HAPPENING ON THE RACE!? If this isn't fixed on time he might start tomorrow close to Sharl, and that might give Sharl an opening to crush him. Hopefully. YES, HE'S OUT!!!!!
Finally, Q3 time and now the reality check might hit me in the face. Let's see.
Looking pretty solid for Ferrari and Aston Martin, Lance putting a hell of a lap right there. Seriously, he has me on a chokehold this boy. Even Pedro de la Rosa was defending him, saying to the others "Hey hey hey, we do NOT talk shit about Lance in this house". Obviously, I'm... paraphrasing. At best 🤣 Sorry, I'm a fangirl.
Sharl getting a very good P2 but unfortunately my baby boy is getting a penalty tomorrow, so we're starting off the season really well. I know Vasseur's pulling at the hairs he no longer has at the moment. Someone help that man and Sharl 🥲
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George is right there in the fight which is a good sign for sure. Lewis on the other hand is starting P8. I know there's hope, I know he can achieve anything (last year proved it), but it sucks seeing him go through this. AGAIN. Why Mercedes? WHY?
It's nice to see, or not see better said, that a certain someone isn't there. I know this is a cosmic fluke and it won't ever happen again knowing RBR, but a girl can dream. Sid the Sloth will probably overtake everyone until he gets to Checo and RBR throw team orders at him and let's him pass.
I just hope I'm wrong.
Race - Sunday
It's race day and here we go with the anxiety rocketing right before the start. Although that anthem was the light of my day. Can we talk about how BAD that sounded!? My goodness, what was that?
Anyway, so now I'm here waiting for the Top 6 so crash in into each other. I mean, that Top 6 is absolute CHAOS. In George, Esteban and Lance we trust. I saw this post that Marina sent me a couple hours ago and I'm still laughing.
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Okay, so this started off well for Alonso and the rest, Alonso getting ahead but just a few seconds later there was a flash of news saying he started on the incorrect position. This is fucking insane already.
5-second penalty for Fernando, same as Esteban in Bahrain. That was quick. I do have to mention Lance's balls eating Carlos up. I'm such a fan of this dude, seriously.
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The McLaren duo are having a blast, I see. Oh Karma, how good is it seeing you again this week.
Sharl is going full force after Pierre and Lewis, eats up Pierre very easily and almost gets Lewis right then and there and thank goodness for that turn, otherwise he might've done it. But there we go, penalty coming for Lewis. Or well, they gave him a warning, which is surprising since the FIA loves, LOVES giving Lewis shit for anything.
Sharl ends up passing him easily too, which I expected already. And Sid the Sloth is right there catching up quickly to everyone as expected too. I don't think it'll be long before he catches Sharl. Unless... Sharl plays it the way he knows how. I'M COUNTING ON YOU, SHARL.
I'm hoping Lance eats Carlos up. Honestly, I'm hoping he just embarrases him at this point. Ah shit, Sharl gets out just in front of him, but I hope he just passes Carlos and then Lance can do his thing.
NO NO NO NO NO FUCKING HELL. LANCE ASKED TO STOP ON TRACK. FOR FUCK'S SAKE. SAFETY CAR. AND LEWIS JUST PASSED THE PIT ENTRANCE, SHIIIIIIIT.
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Fernando stops serving his penalty and off he goes. George stops too and Alonso still goes out ahead of him. Crap. And the Ferraris had already stopped no they're fucked. At least Lewis can stop now. Let's see what this does.
The medium tyres are working perfectly for Lewis, that was beautiful! Mercedes sandwich for the Sloth. LET'S GO BOYS.
I mean, I would pass George like that too if I had an illegal car. That's not normal, seriously. I mean, and they still complained about an economic penalty, but are you fucking serious?
So Alonso was useless against Sid. That's disappointing. Lewis right there behind George. And Albon in the mean time is losing the brakes and has to move to the pits to retire.
I'm reading that George has disobeyed team orders. I really hope this isn't true because otherwise, despite how much I love him, as soon as I step into Montmeló this year I'm gonna fucking deck him. I'm sorry but if this is true, nope. Lewis should just start playing a Sebastian Vettel card and do him like Seb did Mark back in the day. Seriously.
Can both RedBulls please crash into each other? Nothing serious, just enough to fuck off. Of course they couldn't. I mean, I've just watched the end of the race like looking blankly at a wall.
It's now been a while since the end of the race, I needed to cool off a bit first. Basically, because I've confirmed that the Mercedes team orders were for real and George ignored them completely, and also that Mercedes didn't inform Lewis about shit. So, yes, I'm fucking pissed.
Alonso getting the 10-second penalty (which in itself I think is pretty correct) after the podium ceremony is beyond stupid. Not that I'm going to support Alonso or anything but there was a 30-lap gap between his pit stop and the ceremony, they had more than enough time to let him know about the new penalty. The FIA is very keen on just doing things in a certain way that's pretty much on-the-go instead of being efficient about it. Unbelievable.
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It's not fair that George gets the podium. It's not. He's been rewarded with it after disobeying team orders and knowingly hurting Lewis. I'm just hoping Lewis stops being the better person and enters his 2016 era (or even 2007) again. I'm sorry George, I like you, but this is truly unacceptable. And Mercedes, WTF? He's given you 8 Constructor's titles, are you out of your fucking minds? They all should know better by now. Really hope he stops giving a shit.
Anyway, I hope Australia looks better than the past 2 races. Because this is the biggest shitshow.
Peace out.
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goth-automaton · 5 months
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5, 15, 25 for the asks 🥰
5. TV show of the year?
I didn't watch TV shows this year, but if other serialised forms count, then
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15. What’s a bad habit you picked up this year?
Is getting 3-4h of sleep during the week a bad habit or a natural consequence of the uni forcing me to adapt to daytime living, while I'm a nighttime creature? 🤔
25. Did you create any characters (in games, art, or writing) this year? Describe one
Hooooo boiiiiiii... A lot. A lot of characters for a lot of AUs. Who should I tell you about... Okay.
I haven't drawn them yet (of course...), but I think description would be enough. ^^ It's a "Fallout: New Vegas" OC! Their name is Acolyte Raikov and they're an independent psycho for hire (literally psycho – something's definitely wrong with their emotional system and, apart from murder sprees, rarely anything gets any emotional reaction out of them). Despite being human (at least in theory), they have some ghoul-like abilities, mainly fast regeneration (if they lose a limb and get it sewn back before it starts rotting, they can regain full usage of it in the span of days, maybe weeks), immunity to radiation and incredible endurance – killing them is pretty impossible. This may be a result of their mother getting blasted with a shitton of radiation and turning into a ghoul, while still pregnant.
Acolyte lives in Old Mormon Fort with Followers of the Apocalypse. They're not a member, though. Actually, the Followers hate them and vice versa. The only reason they're there is their unusual friendship with Arcade Gannon – at one point Arcade saved Acolyte's life (kind of – Acolyte would be fine, but they'd need a bit longer to recover) and they somehow bonded. Acolyte is extremely, and I mean, extremely protective over Arcade. Also, Arcade acts as a morality chain for Acolyte. Like, you know this "I have an idea" – "Murder is not an option" – "I have no idea" meme? This is basically them.
Other people Acolyte is genuinely fond of (and vice versa) are Raul Tejada and Beatrix Russell. In general, Acolyte gets on pretty well with ghouls. And with sex workers, mainly because of their past. (I won't elaborate on that rn, 'cause this is already getting too long, lol).
When it comes to appearance: Acolyte has dark skin, bright yellow eyes, shoulder-length pastel pink hair (yep, it's natural) and pierced lower lip – a vertical labret hoop to be precise. They're slim, have androgynous figure and always wear black, slutty clothes. They are also relatively tall, +/- Arcade's height. They appear to be taller, though, due to the fact they wear platform boots (yep, in the desert – that's how many fuck they give).
Other miscellaneous info: Acolyte's favourite weapon is a baseball bat, they like chewing gum and have a habit of calling everyone "babe", even strangers.
Thank you! 💜
End of the year ask game.
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To celebrate the end of my social isolation and quarantine week with COVID, here are 6 characters I think would do just fine during a week of isolation and 5 characters that you should be Concerned ™ for:
Survivin’ and Thrivin’:
Chifuyu - We all know this kid loves his manga, and Imma bet he’d love anime too. I could see him binge reading everything he can get his hands on, having an anime marathon, and then watching, like... Transformers. Regardless, he’d be fine.
Pah - Pah seems like an actually pretty chill guy to me. He would probably watch a lot of TV, use an at home gym set if he was feeling well enough, and sleep... a LOT. The one who would really struggle though? Peh. It’s the end of day 4, and Peh is throwing rocks at Pah’s window, blasting music from a boom box, and apologizing for what? He doesn’t know, he just wants Pah to come back out and play. “I’m not mad, you idiot! I’m sick!” “Sick of me?! I’m sorry!” “NO!!!”
Koko - Honestly, his life does not change much. The only difference he notes is that people are finally leaving him the fuck alone, and he’s actually able to get some work done without someone barging in every few minutes. Inui, come get your man and give him some Vitamin D. He needs to be out in the sun with some fresh air. 
Takemitchy - I don’t remember how long he was told to stay at home after that first fight took him out, but he was a Good Boy, and stayed home, read manga, worked on puzzles.. he was doing all the beginning of COVID activities before they were ~cool~. He would be fine.
Souya (Angry) - Souya also seems pretty chill to me, and like the kind of person who needs to recharge his social battery. So a week of being at home, trying out new recipes, watching TV, and laying about actually helps him to relax and get pumped up for when he can go back out and beat someone up again.
BAJI - YES, I STAND BY THIS ONE! We know Baji loves watching dramas with his mom. Like every dedicated drama watcher, he has a “to watch” list a mile long, and he and his mom make incredible headway on it. The make or break moment will come on day 3, when Baji is starting to get antsy and hasn’t fully succumbed to the lazy life style. Fortunately at him, the FIRST phone call his mother made when finding out they would both need to stay at home for the next week was not to her job, but actually to the local animal shelter. She begged them to please call if they had any animals come in that needed extra attention, or better yet, an animal that was hurt and needed nursing back to full health. Right as Baji was about to lose it, the call came. A mother cat had just given birth to 7 kittens, and the shelter simply did not have enough people to look after the kittens and the mother, who was not doing too great. Baji immediately took full ownership of the little family’s health, and nursed every kitten and the mother back to health, even cancelling his plans the following week. He didn’t even realize all of the time that was passing between making sure everyone was fed and watching more dramas. :)
Those Who are Ready to Ask Wakui to Put them Out of their Misery Already:
Nahoya (Smiley) - Unlike his brother, Nahoya is not one with the “kicking it home for a few days” type of lifestyle. His ramen recipes have become even more toxically hot - some to the point where he literally lit the bowls on fire just to feel something. He is a danger to himself and those around him, even more so than COVID. Release him. 
Draken - More specifically ~ the Draken that still lives at the Brothel. I could see an older Draken being chill at the shop, but the Draken that still lives at the brothel would mostly snap by the end of day 4. He would need his “bros”... or the women working would need him to go see his “bros”, because even though they all care about each other... he needs to go. Draken is sick of the perfume, they’re sick of his belching, he’s G2G!
Kazutora - Do not leave him at home with only his thoughts and his parents for a full week. Someone will not be making it out alive. My bet is that Baji does him a solid when he gets the call about the kittens, and invites Tora over to help out. Tora is out the window before Baji’s even finished the situation. 
Hanma - Hanma just doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who would do well locked in an apartment for a week straight. He might start breaking shit just for something to clean up and do, but then he’d get annoyed because hey! Who was the dumbass that broke all my plates! Oh wait... By the end of day 2 (yeah... 2), he’d be sneaking out to go ride around on his bike. If it’s only him and the open road, no harm no foul, right?
Hina - This girl is a social butterfly. She would be dying to go see Emma or Takemitchy or hell, maybe even Kisaki, she doesn’t fucking care, as long as it’s someone that’s not her parents and not Naoto. She would be great for the first 4 days, don’t get me wrong. She would finish all of her homework, study for upcoming tests, get a head start on projects and papers... and then at 1:37pm on day 5 she would lose her shit. Ngl, I’d love to see her start a fire, a SMALL one, a “harmless” one, just to trigger the apartment fire alarm system so she has an excuse to go out and see people and maybe make a new friend. This girl slapped Mikey the first time she met him, you’re telling me she’s not brimming with GirlBoss chaos? I love to see it. 
BONUS: THE ONE WHO COULD ABSOLUTELY GO EITHER WAY:
*** Emma - If she was able to self isolate away from her family, this girl would thrive. Yes, she is also quite social, but getting a genuine break from cleaning after the slobs in her family who don’t help with shit? Once she starts feeling like a person, she might do some general cleaning and laundry because she feels guilty for not doing anything the past few days (baby girl, it’s fine, you were sick, let the men step up please, you’re not their maid), but then, I would hope that she would eventually let herself relax and pamper the fuck out of herself. Full facial, manicure, pedicure, watching romance movies, planning dates for her and Draken, everything she’s been wanting to do, but has been too busy for. ON THE OTHERHAND... if she had to self isolate and be forced to look after Mikey, her grandpa, and Shinichiro... poor girl wouldn’t even last as long as Hanma, I don’t care that she has the patience of a saint, someone put her out of her misery Kisaki, I swear to god...
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"WHERE ARE YOUR SHOES!” I scream out loud as I'm running late, again. Not that this is new to me. I’m always late. The shoe thief strikes again it seems. Despite having a bin by the garage, and 2 shoe closets we will forever be the family that can never find our children's shoes.
My children piled in the car. I run through the house as my oldest emerges from his room, still wearing the clothes I’ve told him to change out of the last 3 days. The animals scatter, they know the saga all too well.
“What's the matter?” he asks. I feel it. The nutty is coming. I’ve felt one forming for days now. First my car dying, homeschooling work piling up, then the house getting out of control, dishes and laundry piled to the ceiling, to the last 2 weeks living in fear as tornadoes, real ones, wreak havoc on our area. My hair has been in the same greasy bun for 5 days now, and I'm starting to smell.  These were just the foundation on which my nutties are formed on. Pressure that has been building for a month now filling my already full cup.
My brain starts to go into a frenzy. Panic takes over and the house becomes blurry, a feeling of rage runs through my veins as it creeps up to my nervous system for a hostile take over.
“We are late! I have to be at my clients house in 25 minutes and I still have another client to tend to first, but I can’t find your brothers shoes. Can you please help!” I say it in a pleading voice. I watch as my oldest looks at the ceiling. The rage in me is spreading like the wild fires blazing in dry forests.
“FOR THE LOVE OF GOD HE DIDN’T LOSE THEM ON THE CEILING! PLEASE HELP ME!” I spat. I know now we are one stop away from something I can’t yield from. “Please, look under the couch for me.” I tear through the bedrooms in search of another little blue sandal. It’s nowhere to be seen. I run outside to see if our dog added another shoe to his collection of treasures buried in our yard. Unfortunately, he didn’t manage to find the shoe either.
As I open the door I notice my oldest, laying on his belly, staring at the same spot. Arms folded under his chin. “Nope, not here either.” I know damn well he didn’t look, he starred at the same spot waiting for this moment to pass. The moment where he can hide in his room and distract into the world of video games. I’m envious. I want to escape too. 
I’m triggered. It's too late. It’s here. I start to have the nutty I knew was inevitable. A “nutty” is a phrase my dad coined for the same rages my mom would have back in the day when she too was overwhelmed, overstimulated, isolated, alone, and above all things, feeling helpless. I too have nutties. Not as often, but they are apart of me...
I burst like a mentos candy in coke. Foam pouring out the bottle wreaking havoc on anything nearby. Unlike this analogy, I know that my explosion lingers even after the mess is cleaned. What's left behind is trauma and future years of therapy with my kids knowing damn well this too will haunt them. I just hope one day they sit around and laugh the way me and my sisters do about my moms dramatic nutties.
The rage has taken over and I tear through the house like a rabid animal. Foaming at the mouth, my eyes I'm sure are black and have specs of red. I dump out every toy bin, Thomas the train and his friends blast through the air as I kick everything in my path. Legos scatter on the floor as more bins are being dumped to the ground. I curse and scream as if anyone can hear my agony. No one is there to help me. I’m alone. I am late. My mind is taken over by a host of rage, and I don’t have the skills to fight it. 
I give up. The damage is done. My house looks like a LEGO factory exploded. I’m really late now. I quickly call my husband, who is out of town to share my agony and disaster with him knowing he will never understand. His words aren’t comforting. They only add more gas to this already lit shit I'm raging.
“Just quit” he says. “They’re just dogs, you’re fine. Go grab a coffee, you are going to be ok.” His words sound more like failure than support. I can’t just quit. My clients are sick or out of town, It’s my responsibility. 
My brain translates his words into conversations of how bad I'm failing. I hear my voice now in my head, “Quit. Your job isn’t important. You’re failing anyways. You’re no different than the dog shit you clean up for these clients. You’re just a failure anyways. Remember the lady that yelled at you last week for showing up late for the same shoe dilemma, it’s time you give up the last shred of independence and surrender to the life of your family.” Now my mothers voice creeps in..hers is worse. Nails on a chalk board.
The northern Massachusetts accent comes through in my brain almost as a phone conversation. The same woman who created this monster doesn't offer words of empathy and compassion. Her words burned into my brain forever. “You shouldn’t be doing this. Your kids are your job. I never had time for a job. I never let my house get messy and my husband was also gone all the time. I never had parents to talk to, they were dead. My mother would have slapped me for even saying it anyway. If you have to stay up until 3 am to get your shit done, do it. I never had friends, you won't either. I never had a life, you guys were my life..You won't either.”
Rage tears stream down my face. I’ve been ranting now for almost 10 minutes as I pull up to my first clients house. I come back to reality, and hear my husbands groggy voice again. I can feel him giving up and ready to fall asleep after a long night of what I call “Big Boy Job.” 
“Why do you say it like that, so now I'm the problem is that it? I’m the bad guy cause I have a career. Oh that's right you hate all men-” 
“FUCK YOU!” I scream as I hang up the phone. I don’t hate men. I hate this world that is not set up for moms or women. I hate the lack of support and empathy moms have. All moms. I learned early on in motherhood the “Village” we were promised doesn’t exist. It was probably a ploy just to get women to have kids. I’m angry with the lack of respect I'm given by my kids and my family. That what I want in this world comes last, and my duty is to serve all but myself. 
This nutty wasn’t because of shoes, they were just what triggered the bullet that exploded into a nutty.
Last week when this happened, I didn’t have a nutty. I showed up to my clients house 10 minutes later than I usually do. I was not met with empathy. I was met with criticism. How could a single mom of 3 let a poor elderly lady with cancer wait an extra 10 minutes for her dog to be walked. Shame on me. As I asked if she was walking that day, confused to see her out in the front yard holding her dog instead of laying in her recliner, I was spat on by an elderly neighbor. “NO! She’s waiting for you!” the neighbors words pierced my heart and they linger there to this day. It is those words, those fears that drove todays nutties. The fear of failing people.
I know in my subconscious that I am not a failure. That what I hear in my head is not true. But it feels like it is. I feel those things. One day I won't feel this way. One day I won't have nutties. One day I will get better, but it won't be today I'm afraid. It won't be tomorrow either. 
I get to my clients house, taking my glasses off and replacing them with sunglasses. Knowing damn well I won't be able to see, but won't ever let someone see me cry. I choke back tears. I grab the dog and we go on our walk.
First neighbor I beg inside, please don't talk to me. As an obese mom dressed all in black, I hope to camouflage myself in this Florida scene. Unfortunately the small talk starts. “How is she today, feeling better?” As I choke back my own feelings I respond, “she seems good today, thanks for asking.” 
As we continue on I am met with more neighbors bombarding me on intel for my client. My heart is drowning from the tears and feelings I suppress. I get to the fourth and final neighbor. They too poke and prod for information. At this point I don't mean to, I snap, “She's fine! Have a nice day!” I hurry passed them, for I know what's nearing the end. Tears well in my eyes, as one escapes and falls down my cheek. Bastard. 
I would never want an illness such as cancer. However, today there was a moment I wish it were me. People worried for her. Concerned she's doing ok.  Thinking of the 3rd neighbor who said she will stop in to visit her. I envied that. Here I am drowning in a sea of emptiness with not even a ghost from Titanic willing to visit and sit in my pain as I balance on my own floating door. The tears now burning on my lids. 
“Keep them in, were are almost done” I whisper to myself in my head.
I drop her dog off and just as I'm about to leave she says to me, “yeah poor thing didn't eat her breakfast today.” My own stomach grumbling for the last time I ate a meal was yesterday afternoon. As I say my goodbyes I fake a sound of happiness. “See you tomorrow!” I assure her.
As I get into the car, It makes it’s way out. I sob uncontrollably behind the steering wheel, tears flowing like a raging river down my cheeks. As I pull away I look at all the bustle in the neighborhood. Hoping no one sees me crying. I pull into Starbucks, my own village in a cup. I trade my glasses again for shades, and the blurriness of the worlds helps. No one will see me cry.
I enter my home again. As I set the kids food on the counter, I look down for something caught my eye. There, under the back of the couch, that fucking sandal was just peeking out. You fucking bastard. 
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isabellehemlock · 1 year
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Pass the happy! 🌻🌈 When you receive this, list 5 things that make you happy and send this to 10 of the last people in your notifications!
Hi Sarah!  Thank you so much for sending this ask - I forwarded it yesterday morning (and thank you @thirdspin for sending me one back, I tagged ya so you can see the respones here, too 🤗), and then had started to answer this one but then my app crashed!  SOOO going to try to type it up again lol.  I figured I’d focus on mainly fandom stuff this time around (though in no order), but I do mention my excitement for the 12 days of Christmas at the very end if you - or anyone else - would prefer to skip that (I’ll put it under a cut)
1. The @lmzine
I’m reblogging and seeing posts on my dash now that the exclusivity period has been lifted, and it’s so lovely to see a collaborative and creative group project come full circle after months (I think I put some feelers in a server back in Feb?).  And I’m so very humbled and grateful by the support it received every step along the way - from our merch artists (@tinkspins @amyvalhalla @ceraunos) and C. giving me blog graphic feedback, to A. for the running a zine feedback/insight, to @beepbeepsan who helped proof my words in case either my bilingual brain (or the excitement from my NDcodeness) made my verbal capacity glitch lol.  And of course, the dozen contributors who helped bring it to life, and the 30+ backers who helped fund it, and all the people who helped hyped it along the way - and getting to donate to PPP on Luca's birthday.  It really was a labor of love, but also a lot of fun, and I’m so glad that people are enjoying it.  We don’t always get to see the fruits of our labors, and sometimes that can be discouraging but we truck on anyways - but nope, not me, I have been blessed to see the full circle of this one, yay! <3 
2. IWTV
For anyone who has followed me for the last two and half years, you’ve seen me fall head first into the IWTV fandom lol.  I joked about it here - but essentially it’s true, in that I’m a sucker for the intersectionality of queerness and faith (projecting?  Me??).  And though of course all takes are valid, there’s so much more symbolism, and directness when it comes to religion in the fandom, where instead of crumbs, I am feasting - and I’m living my best life lol (I wrote about that, and some of the meta topics I'd love to write up soon, but my app is glitching trying to put two links in one paragraph 🫠)
Of course the interesting caveat here is, that if it weren’t vampires, I wouldn’t be able to watch this show - I semi-joked about that here, too - but hey, loopholes, am I right? . . . As for what speaks to me the most when it comes to the fandom, I’d say for sure the religious aspect, but also the diversity, history, and found family - which really isn’t all that different from the TOG fandom, but I think with better digital boundaries in place, and all the filtering lol, I’m able to curate my experience in a way where I can just focus on the hobby portion of fandom :)
3. The @iwtvbigbang
So one thing about me that most people see fairly early on . . . I don’t do anything half-assed lol.  Like, blame my NDcodeness, blame my grief history, whatever you want to call it, but I am a seize the day type of person.  I love intently and intensely, I never want to take anything for granted, and when I’m in - I’m in lol.  Now mix in my absolute joy for digital organization, and bringing people together to collab on creative projects, and I am already having a blast over here lol.  The open call applications are still open for another week, but the discord server has been made for cheering on during the creative process, I’m reaching out to the mod applicants next week, and things will be picking up steam next month.  However I’m also aware that intentions don’t always line up with impact and though the desire is definitely there, I’m very much a servant-style leadership kind of person, and am very grateful for extra insight and tips that @werebearbearbar passed along so I can hopefully bring my A-game to the project.  
At the end of the day, I want to nurture creativity and community and help as many people as possible feel uplifted and confident in their projects 😊
4. The PH
I don’t want to go into too many specifics when it comes to this server, because this is a public blog after all, but I’m very very grateful for this online space of friends and feel cozy and safe and have a lot of fun - very fortunate and blessed beyond measure, especially during the homebound months, to have pocket friends to sip hot chocolate with and VC chat and craft and watch new movies with and just yeah, it's a lovely space for me - and my hope is to send little virtual thank you cards for end of the year reflections <3
Now onto the rl happy lol
5. 12 Days of Christmas
I’ve spent some three-ish weeks in Advent mode, doing my devotionals, abstaining, etc etc etc . . . and after tonight, it’s the TWELVE DAYS OF CHRISTMAS WOO-HOO!!  We’re decorating down here, getting things ready, and I’m looking forward to spending the time in joy, and warmth, and love and singing carols, and studies, and rejoicing, as the world goes a little more quiet (normally my brain itches at quiet lol, but I mean in the sense that no one else wants to do anything haha, so I have more time to dedicate to spiritual time vs running around and offering it up in hopes it counts lol).
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actualaster · 1 year
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I posted 17,814 times in 2022
932 posts created (5%)
16,882 posts reblogged (95%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@galahadwilder
@shining-bewear
@xsuicunex2
@kaen-ace-of-diamonds
@domidoom
I tagged 7,438 of my posts in 2022
#queue it for science - 2,455 posts
#videos - 331 posts
#a classic - 288 posts
#miraculous ladybug - 182 posts
#aster no - 176 posts
#ladybug comic - 165 posts
#miraculous au collection - 151 posts
#pokemon - 146 posts
#scarlet lady au - 145 posts
#??? - 129 posts
Longest Tag: 140 characters
#i...  i don't think im gonna be able to blast through the last 2/3 of the paths plus the post-game in time for the dragon tera type 'zard :(
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
Western fandom went wrong right around the time children decided fictional characters were real people and had to be judged as people rather than tools to tell a story and that as such they should have human rights
205 notes - Posted February 10, 2022
#4
This year's pumpkin is Guilmon! :D
All in all about 3.5 hours to make, about 15 minutes tops to draw the outline right on the pumpkin, no test-sketching.
I've never drawn a guilmon before lol
(For some reason my art always improves when I carve pumpkins...?)
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See the full post
252 notes - Posted October 30, 2022
#3
H E L P
THIS IS THE ICON OF THE OFFICIAL TUMBLR TWITTER ACCOUNT
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953 notes - Posted June 19, 2022
#2
As of late March 2023, eShop for 3DS and WiiU will no longer allow purchases.
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The good news is Pokémon Bank is going free to use once purchase goes offline--but you MUST download it prior to eShop going down.
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2,112 notes - Posted February 16, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
Something that fully healthy people don't really seem to understand about chronic health issues is what running on an energy deficit is like long-term.  It's more exhausting than you can possibly imagine if you haven't experienced it.
How does that work? Well, it's sort of like this. Everybody has a certain amount of energy.  When you're healthy and well-rested, you feel pretty good.  There are artificial boosters that give you more energy, too.  You can do all sorts of stuff.
When you get tired, you can still do some stuff but you can't do as much and what you can do might suffer from lack of energy. Except that's essentially your every day existence with chronic health issues.  You go to sleep tired, and wake up tired--sometimes more tired!
Your energy levels rarely reach "full"--that is, there's few points where you are in a "well rested" state where you feel pretty good and have "normal" levels of energy.  You're *always* operating in "low battery" mode rather than being fully charged, and you drain *fast*.
This makes doing basic tasks much harder than need be--things that drain a little energy you notice a hell of a lot more when you're already dead tired than when you're well-rested.  Like how when your phone drops from 10% to 9% you notice more than from 100% to 99%.
You can do some stuff--but you have an upper limit of what you can do that's a lot lower than other people. And functioning while running against a deficit at all times means a *lot* of careful, conservative planning to husband your strength for when you need it most.
It means sometimes spending 30 minutes deliberating what you should buy when you reach the store because you're trying to guess "will I have the energy to prepare this food after shopping?  Will I later this week?"  You hedge your bets when you can.
It means skipping out on a lot of stuff you'd otherwise love to do because you just can't be sure you'll have the energy to do it without landing yourself in bed for the next 3 days by pushing yourself to collapse. It's depressing. And it's exhausting.
EDIT: This post is for people with physical AND mental health causes for their fatigue and exhaustion, by the way! I know there are posts that really are meant only for one or the other and it's rude to hijack them, but if you find this resonates with you then you're welcome to it regardless of the cause!
2,190 notes - Posted August 5, 2022
Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →
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angstysebfan · 3 years
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The Past Can Break You - 5
Pairing: Bucky x Reader
AU: Avengers
Summary: You and Bucky have been dating for aa few years. As far as you’re concerned he is the one. But what happens when a blast from the actual past shows up?
A/N: Ive seen a lot stories of Bucky getting his first love from the 40′s back. And I’ve always wondered... what would happen if he was dating someone already? Reader is from this time. Not proofread.
Warning: implied smut, angst is back
--
The next 2 weeks were amazing. Bucky really turned everything around and showed you that he was committed to you. It made you feel so much better. While you felt bad that he now completely avoided Dot, because she is still out of place, you didn’t feel that bad because you knew she was bad news. Whenever she saw you and Bucky together she would scoff and glare at you. It made you uncomfortable.
One day the whole Avengers team was called into a meeting to discuss an upcoming mission. Per Steve and Tony, everyone, except you, were needed. You didn’t like the thought of staying behind with Dot in the compound, but you were a team player, and wouldn’t argue. Bucky on the other hand let Steve have it with both barrels.
“Steve you know the situation with Dot. Can’t someone else stay behind?” he said to Steve.
Steve sighed, “Yes, I know this will be difficult, but everyone else is needed for their skill. Y/N’s skills aren’t needed on this mission. She agreed, so why are you fighting me on this?” Steve argued back.
“Of course Y/N won’t fight this, but I am trying to protect her from Dot. You remember how vicious Dot can be, and I don’t want her to upset Y/N when we just started to get back on track,” Bucky said.
“Look Buck, I get it. I do. But this is how it is. The compound is big enough that Y/N won’t need to be anywhere near Dot. By the way, when are you going to tell her that she needs to start looking for employment and another living situation. She makes everyone uncomfortable. Even Tony is starting to get annoyed at all her questions about FRIDAY, and he loves showing people how smart he is,” Steve asked.
“I-I don’t know. I mean I know I have to do it, especially after what she’s pulled, but I still feel bad for her. I mean she didn’t ask for this to happen, and doesn’t deserve to be thrown out on her ass, but I know it’s the right thing to do. I’ll talk to Y/N about it and see if she has any ideas. Maybe if we help setting her up I will feel better about it,” Bucky said.
“Yea, I know. Let me know if you need help. But we gotta get packed and head to the quinjet. And please don’t worry about Y/N. Your girl is strong, and she knows how Dot is. She will be fine. Besides, we are only gone for like 24 hours, what could happen?” Steve asked.
Bucky didn’t respond and watched as Steve walked out of the meeting room. He ran his hands through his hair, what could happen? He hoped nothing, but he didn’t trust Dot. It’s funny the way she is acting now didn’t bother him when he was in the 40s, but now, because of you, he sees that she is not as great as he thought.
Bucky sighs and heads to your shared room to find you packing his bag for him. He smiles as he walks in, “Hey baby,” he says.
You look up at him and give him a bashful smile, “Figured I would help you out,” you said.
Bucky walks up to you and wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his embrace. He looks into your eyes, and all you see is love and admiration in them. He leans in and connects his soft lips with yours. After a moment he deepens the kiss and you feel his tongue on your lower lip. You open you mouth in response, allowing him full access. When the need to breath becomes too great you pull away, panting.
“You’re only going to be gone a day,” you say with a chuckle.
Bucky also laughs, “Will you be ok? Here? With... her?” he asks.
You brush your hand through his soft hair, “Yea. I’ll stay clear of her as much as I can. But I’ll be ok,” you say.
Bucky pecks your lips again. “When I come home, I was wondering if you could help me with something,” he asks.
You look at him with confusion, “Like what?” you ask.
“I think it’s time for Dot to go off on her own, but I don’t want to just kick her out and make her fend for herself. I was thinking you could help me find her a job and a place to live? I would just feel better if I know I wasn’t kicking her out with nowhere to go,” he asks.
You smile and nod, “Sure. I’ll be glad to help. I’ll start while you’re gone,” you say. 
Bucky kisses you one more time, “I’ll be back tomorrow. I love you, Doll,” he says.
“I love you too, Buck.”
--
You have to say you are surprised when you find yourself not running into Dot at all. It’s almost like she doesn’t want to be near you either, which is fine. She has spent most of the last 24 hours in the lab, while you stayed in your room looking up possible jobs and apartment for her. 
You thought it was nice of Bucky to at least help set her up and not throw her to the wolves. It was something you admired about Bucky, his big heart. You both have been texting before the mission, but since then you haven’t heard from him. You hope everything is ok. 
“FRIDAY, any update on the team?” you ask the AI.
“No agent, I’m sorry,” she responds.
You decide to take a nap in hopes that when you wake up your boyfriend will be home. You want your family home safe and sound.
--
You woke up to the sounds of the team in the hallway. You walk out and see Nat and Wanda and hug them hello. You head toward the common room hoping to see the guys, but don’t. You walk back toward the elevator and heard something from Dot’s room.
“Oh Dot, I’ve missed you so much, Doll,” you hear Bucky moan.
You gasp in horror as you continue listening to Dot moan and beg for Bucky to go harder. You can’t help the tears that begin to fall as you hear your boyfriend and his ex having sex.
“So good baby, you’re so good. Taking me so well, you feel amazing. No one is like you, I love you so much,” Bucky moaned.
You’ve heard enough and turn, running back to your shared room. You can’t be near him when he comes in pretending he didn’t just fuck his ex. Your heart is in a million pieces as his voice continues to play in your head. All you hear is her and his moans and his words. He loves her. It will always be her. Maybe you just need to learn to accept that.
--
“Buck, I think you should have told Y/N you got hurt. She is going to be worried about you,” Steve scolded.
“Look, I know my girl. She will be mad at first, but then she will nurse me back to health. I will have to convince her to ride me later, but it will be so worth it,” Bucky says with a smirk as the doctor continues to pull out shards of shrapnel from his side.
“Seriously man? TMI!” Sam complained before leaving Medbay.
Bucky laughed and then hissed as the doctor pulled another shard out. “How much longer? I don’t want Y/N to think I’m dead if she knows we are back,” Bucky asked the doctor.
“One more piece... and....” she pulls the large piece out, “There! Now I will quickly clean and bandage. no stitches cause you will heal fast, but please no sex tonight. You might bleed all over her,” the doctor said with a glare.
Bucky and Steve laugh. “Oh I talked to Y/N about helping me out with Dot and she agreed. I figured it was best to have her involved with that situation from now on,” Bucky says to Steve as the doctor cleans and bandages his side.
“Good idea, less messy that way. I hope everything went well here with the 2 of them,” Steve says.
“I’ll find out,” Bucky says as he puts his shirt on. 
Both men walk to the elevator and head to their floor. They say their goodbyes in the hall as Bucky opens the door to your shared apartment. You aren’t in there, which confuses him, but he figures maybe you went to the kitchen.
When he walks into the bathroom he senses something is wrong. None of your toiletries are there. It was different from when you cleaned, plus his was still there. He walks back out to your room and sees that everything on your nightstand is gone too. Now he starts to panic as he goes to the closet and sees that all your clothes are gone. He tries to not have a panic attack because that will slow him down. He goes to head to the door and sees a piece of paper on the floor:
Bucky,
I guess I’m the stupid one. I’m stupid to think that everything you said to me was true. I was stupid to think that I could compete with your one true love. I was stupid to think that you really loved me. Well I won’t be stupid anymore. No need to lie and say what I heard isn’t true. I hope you and Dot are very happy together in your new apartment, but I’m done. Have a nice life.
Bucky dropped the letter and fell to his knees as tears pool down his cheeks. What the hell happened that you up and left him? You are angry with him, and he doesn’t understand why. He allows himself to cry for a moment before rereading it.
Dot.
--
Chapter 4 / Chapter 6
Oh Dot you dirty bitch! Feedback is appreciated.
Permanent Taglist:  @hailmary-yramliah @tuiccim @comedictragedy @cap-n-stuff @thefridgeismybestie @swiftmind @aleaisntcreative @lookiamtrying @pinknerdpanda @morganclaire4 @iamvalentinaconstanza @verygraphicink @im-squished @joannie95 @peace-love-hobbitness @connie326 @amandamdiehl @harrysthiccthighss @its-izzys @roserose26 @rebekahdawkins @elegantobservationstudentsblog @broco8 @shinykoalacat @white-wolf1940 @jessyballet
Story Taglist: @afuckingshituniverse @wintrfld @cherries-and-berries @ilovemarvelanne1 @lilli2411 @minty-fiction @peakywitch @blue-mostacho @r0bbieshapiro @uncreativezx @sarahjoestewy-blog @geekanista @imtaashu @vicmc624 @browneyedgirl365 @happinessinthebeing @leyannrae
PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF I FORGOT ANYONE!
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call-me-aesthetic · 3 years
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If Twisted Wonderland was an American Public School
WARNING: There are some slight sensitive topics that are featured in here! Reader discretion is advised!
Part 2 can be found here
Heartslabyul
Riddle Rosehearts:
- That one preppy girl who takes all honors and AP classes 😑
- Wants everyone to know that he’s becoming a doctor one day for his strict parents or he’ll dishonor the family
- Reminds the teacher about homework, knowing well that he’ll get slander for it
- Complains about how he got a 90 on his test or a B on his report card, a try hard much?
- Wears a cardigan with thicc but cute glasses since he’s one of those people with can’t see shit on the board so he has to move to the front of the class
Ace Trappola:
- The SoundCloud rapper, that’s it
- “Wanna listen to my mixtape? It’s pretty fire, my guy.” 😩🔥
- You will not miss him BLASTING out some song on his Bluetooth speaker, that shit be echoing through the hallways
- Tells you to stop what you’re doing only for him to either sing horribly or do a backflip, thinking that he’s so cool
- Wears a Supreme jacket with AirPods and waves on his head
Deuce Spade:
- Assuming that he’s still a delinquent, he’s that kid with the most fucked up school record
- Not much of a bully but will still talk shit to your face without caring, might even throw stuff at you during a lesson and you would be the one getting in trouble instead of him 🗿
- If he ever gets mad, it would be overdramatic like kicking the desks, punching the lockers, or walking out of the classroom unannounced and everyone would look at each other wondering wtf happened
- Covers the entire desks with drawings of skulls and those “s” if you know what I mean
- Wears Champion hoodies, wants you to know that he’s broke and rich at the same time
Trey Clover:
- The guy that’s not really popular but everyone knows him since he’s in all their classes
- Most people might have a crush on him because he’s REALLY nice 😳👉👈
- Gives off “older brother” vibes based on the way he looks and acts, like offering you a ride home if you beg ask nicely
- Secretly bakes creme brulee but doesn’t want to mess with the flow so he sticks to the status quo
- Wears the school’s hoodie just because he thinks it looks good on him, and the fact that he doesn’t know what else to wear
Cater Diamond:
- Hot Cheetos girl 🥵
- Has a whole buffet of food in his backpack and will not hesitate to eat them during a lesson, no sharing either sorry
- Excuses himself to the bathroom or full on skips class just to film a Tiktok
- Has about 100 followers on Instagram Magicam and brags about how he’s famous
- Wears a Thrasher hoodie with large hoop earrings and his hair in a bun
Savanaclaw
Leona Kingscholar:
- The kid who flunked their freshman year that also sort of vibes with new classmates
- Always gets mistaken as a teacher by people since he looks and sounds old
- Knows the lessons but still fails them anyways, didn’t really give a damn either 🙄
- Captain of every sports club you can think of, never actually plays but has a lot of knowledge on them
- Wears the school’s letterman from years ago since it used to be his brother’s and that he’s too lazy to buy a new one
Ruggie Bucchi:
- That one kid who NEVER has money for the book fair or any other school event
- Always has to ask his classmates for some cash
- If he somehow does, then he’s one of those kids who buys Diary of the Wimpy Kid or the World Record books
- If he’s feeling cheap, he’ll buy the “cool stuff” like the chocolate scented calculator or fruit snacks 😭
- Wears oversized hoodies and basketball shorts that are clearly hand-me-downs
Jack Howl:
- That one athletic kid who’s both scary good and competitive when it comes to school games like football or soccer
- Literally the best player on his team and without him, they’re trash as hell 💀
- Tries his absolute best to support his teammates without yelling at them for how dumb they are
- “KICK THE FUCKING BALL! DO YOUR LEGS EVEN WORK?!”
- Wears the school’s jersey just to show off his “school spirit”
Octavinelle
Azul Ashengrotto:
- The kid who sell snacks for “charity” but everyone knows he’s keeping the money to himself
- If you don’t have cash or try to negotiate with him, the only thing he’ll do is raise the price up
- “What do you mean you don’t have ten bucks? I can see it in your pocket.”
- Just bring nothing with you, he’ll doing anything to steal your stuff 🤭
- Wears a collar shirt with a tie and khakis that have pockets to keep his glasses and money in
Jade Leech:
- The kid who puts on a goody two shoes facade but is actually a stoner
- Only does “safe” drugs like vape but occasionally smokes weed, mostly in the bathroom or behind the school 🌬
- Can play it off and hide the scent when he’s high, teachers never suspect anything from him
- No one really cares to stop him unless he gets caught or something idk
- Wears clothing that either makes him look like a businessman or a junky, there’s nothing in between
Floyd Leech:
- The kid that’s plays basketball or volleyball just because he’s hella tall, and is actually good at the sports but doesn’t put much effort into them
- Always stays behind after gym, even though the teacher tries to make him leave for his next class 😬
- “I swear after this one shot, I’ll go to class.” *He never made that shot*
- Will jump you no matter who or where you are, and will get angry if you step on his new shoes
- Wears the jersey of any famous team with the latest pair of Jordan sneakers
Scarabia
Kalim Al Asim:
- VSCO girl at best, don’t lie to me now 🤡
- The only words he knows are “And I oop– sksksk.” and “Save the turtles.”
- Walks during a track meet while everyone else is running and sweating hard, the teacher doesn’t care either
- Doesn’t really do anything in gym but talks to his classmates and stands near the water fountain to refill his Hydro flask
- Wears tie dye shirts with cute scrunchies
Jamil Viper:
- That one quiet kid who everybody thinks is a serial killer but he’s actually not, I swear
- He just wants school to be over and spend the rest of his summer relaxing 😔
- Although he shouldn’t abuse his “power,” he‘ll move his hands in his pockets or backpack to make it look like he’s about to pull a weapon out.
- “Chill, I’m just grabbing a pencil.” *Everyone in the class started crying*
- Wears dark colored hoodies that intimidates people but are actually comfy
Pomefiore
Vil Schoenheit:
- The baddie popular girl 😌💅✨
- Arrives to school late with a Starbucks in hand from his local Target
- Fixes himself every 5 seconds like reapplying his lipgloss or spraying Bath and Body Works cherry blossom perfume
- Uses acrylic nails and long hair extensions as weapons during a cat fight
- Wears a crop top with ripped jeans and those clout sunglasses
Rook Hunt:
- That creepy guy in the hallways who tries to get your attention, even if you don’t know him
- Scares people when he says, “Ayo, where my hug at?” 🥶💯
- Uses at least 10 cans of Axe body spray a week after gym class, which stinks up the locker rooms
- Waves at you if he passes your class, even walking into the room just to say hi
- Wears literally anything but always include a hat
Epel Felmier:
- The artist girl who just wants to be alone 🧑‍🎨
- Purposely draws in front of you but pretends like you’re not looking
- If you complement him, he’ll just brush it off and proceeds to diss himself
- “Thanks but I’m not THAT good at drawing, teehee.” *Insert Radio Rebel face*
- Wears a hoodie or a cardigan with big pockets to put his art supplies in
Ignihyde
Idia Shroud:
- I don’t even need to tell you who he is, y’all already know ahaha 🥴
- Sneaks a whole PlayStation in his backpack so he can play with it during lunch
- Is on his phone 24/7 even in class to the point where teachers don’t care anymore
- Tries to get people into anime but only to little success
- Wears a shirt of any anime character or that damn ahegao hoodie, girl bye
Ortho Shroud:
- The nerdy kid who’s known for destroying others at many games
- Plays classics like D&D, Yugioh, Pokémon, the whole shabang
- Daily Beyblade battles during recess with everyone surrounding him, the menacing aura radiates off of him
- Will steal your things if you lose to him but gives it back a week later cuz he’s sweet 🥰
- Wears light up Sketchers shoes and those Minecraft shirts you find at Old Navy
Diasomnia
Malleus Draconia:
- The theatre kid who also goes to band practice, change my mind 👁👄👁
- Takes his role seriously when it comes to school plays and concerts, even if he gets casted as a damn tree or doesn’t go solo
- Remembers the songs and their lyrics to any musical you name, a really good singer at that too
- Plays almost every instrument, you definitely know this since you can hear him down the hallways during a test
- Wears a white button up shirt, black pants with fancy dress shoes, and top it all off with a fricking Rolex watch
Lilia Vanrouge:
- The weird guy who pranks people and vandalizes school property in every way possible
- If you ever get a textbook with a message that tells you to go to a certain page only for you to found a picture of a dick, yeah that was him 😒
- When using a Chromebook, he’ll leave a tab open on YouTube so when the next person uses it, pray that your ears will still work by tomorrow
- During lunch, he is a literal DEMON that mixes milk with chicken nuggets together and having the audacity to eat it too
- Wears an oversized raincoat or a windbreaker but idk wtf kind of things he has hiding underneath
Silver:
- That guy in class who consumes Monster energy drinks and falls asleep 99% of the time but somehow manages to pass the class 🤷
- Whenever he’s awake, he’ll talk to the teachers since he’s basically friends with them for some reason
- Writes his name out of boredom on any desk you sit on but in different places, sometimes around the corners or the sides
- Has a sixth sense because he’ll wake up if you try to draw on his face and if you did get something on him, it’s on sight
- Wears those colorful hoodies that zips all the way up to cover his face with a matching backpack, it’s pretty cool ngl
Sebek Zigvolt:
- That kid who literally knows everything about historical wars and will show it off during class
- Also has knowledge on weaponry, which has people questioning him but he’s just very dedicated on serving his country and people
- Knows how to fight and defend himself from a bitch since he spent his summer at a military boot camp, put respect on my man’s name 😤
- Honestly a great partner for a group project, actually does the given work but not the whole thing for you
- Wears anything that has camo pattern and chunky combat boots
I only made this because me and my friends were talking about our school memories so yeah. This is based from my experience so they might not be exactly accurate. Might even be a part two if you want.
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