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#anyways you get the senior discount if you remember these!
cold-neon-ocean · 8 months
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Remember when I drew everyone as horses lolol??? I should bring that back tbh that was fun. I can't believe these are 3 years old (yeah i can sheesh) I kinda want to bring this AU back though, it was fun and evoked happiness for me ;; my silly horsies
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fallen-elytrian · 2 years
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I’m watching the Eret lore and experiencing emotions
This is going to be long and I’m not sorry
Just. Imagine you’re Eret. You join your friends cause, fighting against an oppressive nation. And you become close with the leader. It’s hard not to. Tommy, Tubbo, and Fundy are all children. You and Wilbur are the two adults in charge. You become friends. Good friends. Best friends, even.
But suddenly things get away from you. Things are getting too violent. You just want everyone to be friends again. To be peaceful again. So you betray your allies. You betray the comrades who trusted you with their lives. You betray your best friend. And you don’t fully realize the consequences of your actions. Not yet.
You do, eventually. When you see lmanburg not give in. When you see them keep fighting despite your betrayal. And you realize your mistakes. And how alone you are. And you left your best friend to run a revolution. Alone.
And you repent! You regret. You feel bad, you try your best to make amends. You throw away your crown and every power you have. To help your friend. For one last fight. One last time.
He seems to accept you! To accept your help. And you join forces with him and you agree to fight. And you almost get close again. Not quite like it was before. But it’s better. And you think you can become friends again. Maybe best friends again. Not now. Later. After the fighting is over. Maybe things can go back to how they were before.
And you win! You fight with Wilbur. You fight with pogtopia. You beat back Dream and Schlatt, and pogtopia wins! And maybe there can be peace. Maybe people can be free. Maybe you and Wilbur can heal.
Until suddenly Wilbur isn’t there among the crowd anymore. And people are looking for him. And they’re scared. And there’s whispers of a traitor. And you go looking for him. And maybe you’re running up the hill, running to where you can here Phil and Wilbur’s voices.
And the last thing you hear your best friend say, before ringing fills your ears and dust fills your eyes and the only thing that’s left of the nation your fought for is a crater. The last thing you hear him say:
“There was a saying. By a traitor. ‘It was never meant to be’”
How does that make you feel
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numinousnic · 1 year
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girl help i'm rereading the Skyrim urban fantasy AU i deleted off AO3 (but still have squirreled away on my laptop) and it's. actually not that bad, all things considered
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ghostprince · 8 months
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oh god it's been so long since i posted art on here
even longer since i posted anything of these boys
anyone who follows me and remembers these four no you don't gets a senior's discount, actually. it's been 8 years.
anyway, been doing a really self-indulgent pokemon rp thing with @brannwen that let me finally revive these four ocs from the depths of non-existence!
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trinkerichi · 1 year
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TEKVENTURES! I wanna ramble about Tekventures.
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if you remember them you qualify for a veterans discount
So they were Sgt.Frog ocs that my best friend SARAZA and I made on flipnote for edgy amvs and comics. I wanna say I wassss 13? give or take. But these little guys were my EVERYTHING. We thought of a billion stories about them. Then I got sick of drawing frogs eventually and wanted to make them more of an original thing. Our first sketches were of anthro goats, but over time with my style changes, an the fact that I hate spending more than 2 seconds drawing anything, they no longer resemble any specific animal and turned into fuzzy nondescript species of alien thing. ANYWAY I wanted to make them into a "real comic series" when i was 17. That's when I started the chapters that are still up on tumblr n webtoons! and a few other sites probably that I forgot about.
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I've been harsh on it in the past but honestly I still love it to bits. What's there is a solid little comic and i still think it's adorable!
The only thing is, that's judging it based on what's there. It's a basis for a cute episodic thing with low stakes! Like the early mlp fim episodes or the new care bears cartoon. But that's NOT what it was planned for in the long term. Oh no, I was so ambitious. I had at LEAST 50 episodes planned which would weave together into this massive arc that would introduce other space teams, wayward space travelers with secret pasts connecting to the main cast, sad backstories for everyone, ALL of the family members of the main cast, a villian team with like... 'anti-versions' of the main cast, and a dramatically foreshadowed final confrontation with robot clones that want to destroy their planet. OH AND ROBIN too! Besides all that, they ALSO have multiple side story episodes about crashing to earth and befriending a human girl named Robin who has to keep them secret.
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That might have been um. a lot.
But when you start writing a story with your best friend when you're 13 you most likely have NO CONCEPT of "too much". Who am I kidding I STILL have trouble pacing myself. But when you come up with a story it's hard not to think it's just GOLD! And that you've gotta keep it no matter what! Because that stuff is fun!
I went full force into the comic in my senior year of highschool and eventually I finished the first chapter! It took me a year. And then I looked at my plans for the other 49 episodes and thought "maybe I need to rework some things.."
I rebooted the comic once, tried making smaller stories, all that, but I wasn't quite feeling the same drive anymore. I realized I was comparing my work to high budget tv shows with like. a full team of writers and artists. and studio funding. and greenlit seasons and all that. And it was making me feel TERRIBLE about my art!
So I quit comics! I started hating comics! I hated how long they took and how restricted I felt (with my own expectations) and I lost my confidence in finishing projects because I was so sad about giving up on my big magnum opus. and I just kinda gave up and started only doing fandom art for a couple years. I did a jyushimatsu ask blog and kept it up for ages! And then a new season of Osomatsu came out and I realized when comparing it that I was basically writing an oc at this point. And that I CAN commit to long term projects if i dont get self conscious about it!
I still didnt wanna jump into comics again. But I thought of some new characters that I was becoming attached to. the very very beginnings of what could turn into a new idea.
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I thought "well i still love cartoons about space! even if im not making tekventures anymore maybe i could do another space story. a really tiny one."
so i started making an rpgmaker game! and it started taking forever. so in the meantime i made a really rough doodle comic about how the characters first met. as a little side story thing.
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and THAT was the key. I had to stop thinking about it like i was making a big cool tv show and starting my career and all that. its just a fun thing, off the cuff, not overthinking it, just for fun and personal expression.
so im still going with it! and its GREAT! Rocket chip has 12 planned chapters, and I'll be halfway done by the end of the year.
But BOY did it take me forever to learn that.
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𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐔𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐄𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧:
Summary: Jeon YN has had a crush on Yang Jungwon since Freshman year. To Jungwon, she is the perfect VP. That is until YN announces that she isn’t going to be running for StuCo in Senior year.
Taglist: @yvesismywife @jkjkseo @ourschan @nochuwastaken @theboisarehere342 @stoatwashere @makiswrld @lil-iva @mina-yoo334 @nyfwyeonjun @ahnneyong @blaaiissee @rrvvby @blessedsunoo @mikethemighty @fallingforya @she-is-dreaming @rionah @enhasengene
Permanent Taglist: @honeyhuii @chirokookie @nyxtwixx @clar-iii @centheodd @prdxinvade @hiqhkey @junnniiieee07 @love-4-keum @acciomylove @sproutswonies @youkwim @kpoplover718 @anotherimaginesaccount @ashxxgyu @bubblytaetae
I literally looked up the courses available at SNU for this 😂. This turned out longer than I expected 😅. Thoughts and opinions please and look at me actually posting this on the 1 year anniversary of UPs first chapter. And HAPPY BIRTHDAY JUNGWON 🥳.
★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★
So let's start with what everyone's studying. YN and Felix are studying Business. Jay is studying Communication. Wonyoung is studying Medicine. Bahi is studying Nuclear Engineering. Sunghoon is a Aesthetic student. and Heeseung is studying Vocal Music.
Jungwon obviously studying Political Science. Sunoo is a Media Arts student. Niki's studying Psychology. Jake is a Physics student ofcourse. Karina is studying Communication. Giselle is a Linguistics student and last but not least Winter is a Statistics student.
StuCo: Jisung is a Chemistry student. Hyunjin is a Philosophy student. Chaeryeong is a Liberal Studies student. Ryujin is studying Mathematics Education. Last but not least Yeji is a Geography student.
YN and Felix are shipped together, you can't get anywhere close to the Business department without hearing abt Ynlix 😂.
Our Wonnie boo gets so jealous that the shy baby gives YN a very heated, should not be public kiss just before her lecture in front of her classmates to get the Ynlix romantic shipping to stop.
Poor YN is in a daze for the rest of the lecture and Felix live tweeted the whole thing 😂.
YN and Felix are studying business cause they wanna open a bakery. That's been their dream since they were children and YN's older brother Jungkook took them to a bakery.
Just like in highschool, there's a line of people wanting to eat the baked goods that YN and Felix have made.
They've made a business out of it already, there's a friend's and family discount obviously.
A discount that Felix refuses to let Jungwon have, he will demand Jungwon pay full for whatever he wants from them.
YN tries to give Jungwon freebies but Felix always finds out and it ends with Jungwon paying anyway.
Mostly everyone joined the clubs they'd been before. The biggest shock was Jungwon joining the dance club.
(remember Rain being shocked at how good of a dancer Jungwon was in i-land?) That's everyone's reaction when they see Jungwon dance.
YN just smiling watching her bf proudly. While Jake cries about how amazing Jungwon wouldve been in their Dance Club.
Felix decides to take up knitting and it goes horribly. Everyone tells him to give up but he's determined .
YN somehow convinces Jungwon to join with Felix and this counts as their bonding time.
By bonding I mean, Jungwon actually learning how to knit and Felix just annoying the shit out of Jungwon.
Even though everyone is very busy, they all try to meet up as much as they can.
YN's friends all got together and found a few flats close to campus where they could all live.
The StuCo make it a point to meet up atleast twice a month. It's mainly filled with hating on Jungwon affectionately and Felix annoying Jungwon.
Jungwon wonders why he even goes to these meet ups but then realised he goes for YN and how much she enjoys meeting up with StuCo.
Felix somehow managed to convince Hyunjin and Han to let him be their roommate in the same building.
Jungwon, Niki and Sunoo chose to live in university dorms for the full uni experience. They regret it immensely and can't wait to move out 😂.
Because of this Jungwon spends more time at YN's flat than he does at his own, to the point the couch is now referred to as Jungwon's bed.
Jungkook now having warmed up fo Jungwon tells him that he'll help find him a better place to say but Jungwon refuses to get help from his gfs older brother and his highschool idol.
Sunoo and Niki don't talk to him for a week. Jungwon doesn't even notice because he's barely at their dorm.
Ryujin sees a poster for the Student Council and brings it up. Saying they should all run, it'll be like highschool again.
They all agree until Jungwon is like that he won't do it unless YN is the one going for president.
YN shocked straight up says no and this ensues everyone trying to get her to agree.
Not just StuCo but all of her friends, Jungwon's friends, even her brother and sister in law are trying to convince her.
Ultimately it's Jungwon who manages to convince her to run for president and after that it's full steam ahead.
Everyone gets together to help with the campaigning and it's very much like it was in highschool.
None of them expect to actually win, they are just first year students. They were really just doing this for fun, a group project cause they were bored 😂.
Imagine the surprise when they all actually win. Each of them got the seat they campaigned for.
YN is the most shocked, she didn't even put that much effort into her campaign and now she's president of the universitys student council?!
Jungwon is the proudest boyfriend, to the point he won't shut up abt his gf being president.
He literally refers to YN as my gf the student council president much to YN's embarrassment.
StuCo love making a point of saying how different YN is as president compared to Jungwon.
They mean it as a joke but YN forever defending Jungwon takes them to task abt not comparing them.
They all manage to do such a great job that before the academic year has even finished, professors are asking how they will campaign next year.
StuCo agreed that this was a one year thing and they won't be doing this again. They had fun but it was more work than they expected.
Professors and the rest of the students are very disappointed and try to convince them.
They all stick to it, they've had more than enough experience and while they had fun, they've got their actual degrees to focus on.
Ynwon try to have a date at least once a week, if not a proper date then meeting for coffee or to study together.
Jungwon is now used to either his friends or YNs friends or StuCo gatecrashing his dates.
More than enough times, Felix has come and just stolen YN away, leaving Jungwon to follow them exasperated but really he's just happy that YN is happy.
Felix doesn't let Jungwon forget his stupidity from highschool, he will bring it up whenever he can.
At first Jungwon was hurt to be reminded of his stupidity but now he knows that this is Felix's weird way of protecting YN.
Reminding Jungwon of his mistakes so he doesn't repeat them.
YN does force Jungwon and Felix to get along when she's around, saying what will they do if she's not there?!.
Which leads to outraged shouts from both Jungwon and Felix about YN always being with them.
They decide on an alliance since they both just want YN to be happy and that's it.
This alliance is put to the test when both of them team together for YNs birthday surprise.
It's a success in that YN loves it immensely. But the failure is that seeing how well they worked together.
YN and everyone else thinks they are friends and not the somewhat enemies they have become.
Everyone finds this out when YN is away visiting family and the group goes to the beach.
Felix and Jungwon will not stop fighting or making digs at each other.
It was entertaining for an hour but by the end everyone wants to murder both of them.
Wonyoung and Karina, frustrated with both of them, they lock the 2 of them in a beach shed.
After almost 3 hours (everyone forget they were there) they are let out. Surprisingly no injuries but Jungwon looks decidedly more annoyed than Felix.
YN finding out about this laughs and tells everyone to let Jungwon and Felix be, they argue but when it comes down to it they've got each others backs.
Which is proven when rumours start up about Felix cheating on assignments and it is Jungwon pulling an all nighter to prove he isn't a cheater.
And then when rumours begin of Jungwon being unfaithful to YN.
It is Felix who is his loudest supporter and helps to disprove these rumours.
Eventually Jungwon, Niki and Sunoo do move out of their horrible dorm and into the same building as all of YNs friends.
Now that their living situation is better, YN spends as much time as she can in their flat.
Ynwon are the unis sweetheart couple. After the whole ynlix shipping debacle everyone started shipping ynwon and they're everyone's fave couple.
★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★
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munson669 · 2 years
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"I promise, there's nothing to be worried about with this. Nobody's gonna see you here!" Eddie laughed, pulling out his lunchbox.
He had taken you to the room the Hellfire Club used for Dungeons and Dragons and had you sit beside him while he sat on his throne.
"It's not like I'm that worried, I just don't want to get suspended for buying drugs on school grounds," you retorted. "My parents would murder me if I got sent home again."
"Which is why I brought you here. Do you really think anyone is going to come to check in on us here?" He leaned back in his chair and yelled a quick "Hello? Hello? Anyone there?" that made you jump.
"Eddie! Quit!" You smacked his arm lightly but smiled at his antics. He was always so animated, unafraid to be loud, and proud of himself. You appreciated that about him a lot. He brought out the good in you, despite what a lot of people would believe about him.
He really was so much more than he got credit for, and him being your friend was one of the highlights of your senior year.
"So, I'll do a half-ounce for ten bucks. Hellfire and best friend discount."
Eddie pulled out a large sealed bag and plopped it on the table right in front of you. The bud inside looked good, especially in comparison to some of the shit you'd had before.
"Are you sure? That's like totally robbing you, you know."
He waved a hand in the air, trying his best to alleviate your worries. "I've gotta get rid of this anyways to get some new shit in."
You nodded and picked up the bag, noticing a joint inside of it already rolled. "Hey, Eddie?"
"Yeah?"
You paused as you stared at it. Did you really want to smoke in the school?
"Do you want to smoke in the school?"
His face lit up and he jumped up, clapping excitedly. "Yes! I would love to break any and every rule with you. Please, be my guest."
Eddie pulled a lighter out of his pocket and threw it towards you. "Spark it, dude."
You threw your head back and let out a loud laugh, passing the joint back to Eddie. "I swear! I thought I was going to die when she said that to me," you said with a grin.
"Thrilled that you didn't, really. After all, what would I do without my new smoke buddy?" He teased.
"I don't remember agreeing to that, Munson."
Eddie rolled his eyes and grabbed the bag, dangling it in front of your face.
"You obviously didn't read the fine print about buying this. Within the fine print, my friend, there is a line mentioning that this officially means you are required to smoke with me." He stood up and moved behind you, ruffling your hair before plucking the joint from your lips.
“Was the weed worth your money?” He asked from behind you.
"Definitely," you replied as your eyes slipped shut.
Your mouth worked faster than your brain; Then again, your brain had basically shut off. You were absolutely floating, forgetting entirely about your earlier worries of getting caught.
"Eddie Munson, you are the most attractive man I have ever met," you said plainly. You clapped a hand over your mouth, immediately realizing what you'd just admitted.
He really was, though! The way he lit up when playing Dungeons and Dragons, the way he was overdramatic in his actions and gestures, and the way he was so absolutely kind to you while simultaneously getting on your nerves.
"And you are the most attractive woman I have ever met. I mean, really! Look at you!" He pulled back to gesture to your sitting figure. "You're sweet. You're funny, smart, and creative? The whole package, dude!" He glanced away for a second and cleared his throat. "Someone will be beyond lucky to have you."
"I pray every night my knight in shining armor will pop up on my doorstep with a horse and flowers," you replied sarcastically.
"And I pray I find a horse and flowers and your address," he retorted.
Your personality and style and behavior were considered a turn-off to most of the guys in Hawkins. At least that was what you had been told by the ones who had rejected you.
"You're too bitchy."
"Maybe if you dressed differently."
"You hang out with Satanists. No."
Eddie was really one of the only guys that saw you as a person instead of a flesh-puppet for them to project onto. And you loved him for it.
"You think we should ditch out on the rest of the day?" Eddie asked as he packed up his lunchbox. While you had been in your own head he snubbed the joint onto the table and dropped the roach back into your bag.
"You think you can sneak me out of here without anyone seeing?"
Hotboxing Eddie's van wasn't on your to-do list for this fine Thursday afternoon, but here you were doing just that. The fog around you was thick and every breath you took just got you more and more lifted. Music was playing in the background of your in-depth conversation on the likelihood of life on other planets. Your legs were beginning to hurt from sitting in the same position for so long.
"Can I lay in your lap?" You asked casually, already on your way to plop your head on top of his crisscrossed legs.
"Be my guest, doll," He said as he scooched around a bit to make himself more comfortable. You looked up at him with half-lidded eyes and let out a content sigh. You could lay here forever, really.
“If we aren’t married by the time we’re thirty I say we just marry each other,” you stated “Make a pact with me for it.”
He laughed and wrapped a piece of his hair around his finger, bringing it to his face. “Yeah, yeah. I think that’d work out.” He paused, then let out a small laugh. “I don’t think I’ll be married by thirty, so make sure you find someone before then. I’m holding you up on that deal.”
You rolled your eyes. “As if I’d be so upset to marry you.”
“Oh, so you’re saying you would?”
“I’m not saying I wouldn’t,” you shrugged.
The air suddenly felt a little thicker. You have made the pact as a joke, but suddenly it didn’t feel like a joke anymore.
“What about twenty-five?” He asked with a smug grin, pouting over-dramatically when you hit him on the arm.
“You saying you’d marry me even sooner?” You asked quietly.
“I’d marry you right now, sweetheart.” He replied with a soft tone to his voice. “You’re a kick-ass best friend. I guarantee you’d make an even better wife.”
Your face was burning hot, you could feel the embarrassment all across your cheeks and ears. Eddie Munson? Marrying you?
The thought was almost too much to bear. You’d known of your crush on Eddie from the first time you went to Hellfire Club, and you two flirted back and forth often, but hearing him say such sweet things to you had your heart racing.
Call it what you want. Say the weed was the reason, say it was a spur of the moment.
But you kissed him. You pulled him down to where you were laying and kissed him.
And God did he kiss back.
One hand went to the back of your head and the other fell to your arm that was resting on his leg. He was passionate when he kissed. It genuinely felt like he wanted you like he never wanted to stop kissing you.
You pulled away quickly, looking into his eyes. “I’m sorry, I totally should’ve asked you if that was okay and I really just wanted to kids you because I’ve liked you for a long time and-“
He cut you off by kissing him again. He didn’t even give you time to finish your rambling.
To tell the truth, Eddie was thankful you kissed him first. He had spent years pining after you, making you the “missing princess” in his D&D games and flirting with you almost constantly. Making the first move seemed like a bad idea when he already had you so close to him.
He pulled away first this time, smiling brightly at you.
“Will you do me the absolute honor,” He started before putting a hand to his chest over his heart. Always with the dramatics. “Of being my girlfriend?”
You nodded. Of course you did! Your best friend of going on three years officially asked you out.
“I would love nothing more,” you replied.
In the midst of the smoke, you two kissed, a gentle and loving reminder that you two had officially sealed the deal.
“Does this mean I can start calling you Missus Munson?”
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desthebolt · 8 months
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For anyone that has me on TH, first off- sorry im blowin up your notifications dbjdhdbdjd i have A LOT of art to upload and im maybe like 2/3rds of the way there… forgive me
But anyway, ive been going through all of this art and its so crazy how fast my splatoon ocs have evolved in such a short time frame (i say short, but its been like 5 yrs now lmao)
Like we went from this
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To THIS, and i think thats fucking beautiful
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Its just so insane to go back through all of my art and go “not only have i improved artistically, but also emotionally and expanded my understanding of character design”.
Like there isn’t inherently anything wrong with my first concepts of Fia, but she’s just gotten so much better over the years. She’s become a character i enjoy drawing and makes me happy to see :)
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Then we dip into ocs from my og works and it gets even more insane. I have ocs from 2006 who i still draw semi regularly and BOY their designs are all over the place. The core elements are there, but theres enough differences to make you go “damn Des what is goin on?” (Sasha [she/her] is the one with long hair and Knight [they/he] is the spiky one :3)
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The answer is, a lot! Lmao, but yeah its cool to see the evolution of art and ocs…
If you remember Sasha or Knight (also Rooke), you can apply for a senior discount-
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souryogurt64 · 2 years
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ive been here long enough that i remember when you made a slideshow video of you and your brunette friend to alone together by fob
i love you you get a veterans discount and im so sorry about me
Ok long ass storytime you didn't ask for and dont want
That was my toxic homoerotic best friend I was inseparable with when I was 14. We got paired together on a class field trip because we were both weird girls with no friends no one else liked or wanted to hang out with and we were pretty much instantly codependent and obsessed with each other and did things like call each other the moon and sun and talk about cutting ourselves while listening to My Chemical Romance and try to start a """band""". We met Frank Iero and Brendon Urie together and did a lot of bandom erotic roleplays, which is how you know we were super weird. We did a lot of cool stuff too, like sneak off to Chicago and also see Fall Out Boy and host girl makeout parties in her basement.
We got picked on really bad but she was kind of unhinged and violent and brought that out in me a little. Both of us were really unstable because our home lives kind of sucked-- I got taken to the hospital in a cop car and she went to the psych ward for suicide attempts a couple times I believe. There were a couple incidents where we were getting bullied and we never hit anybody but we'd just do something totally crazy like start screaming and barking or dry humping each other and legitimately scare people into leaving us alone. We mostly got called dykes but we would feel each other up and hold hands at school so it was kind of justified. Once we both were play wrestling the only goth (and therefore, only hot) guy at my school and he got up in the middle of it and beat off in the bathroom.
Then things went south slowly around junior year because there was a lot of complex homoerotic/homosexual high school lesbian drama involving revenge sex and jealousy and love heptagons and weed and handjobs and everything great about high school.
Anyway, we ended up getting into a fight senior year and not speaking. We were very toxic, so this was not unusual, however usually we would make up pretty quickly. The fights kept lasting longer and longer but I always thought we'd come around. Our last fight, though, was senior year of high school, and it went on for so long I honestly forgot we were fighting and thought we had just drifted apart. The details of the fight are just typical girl drama-- jealousy over friends and girls/boys and growing apart-- but anyway, she was going down a certain path and her other friend got in a fight with her too. I had nothing to do with it, but I guess she blamed me.
She jumped me in the hallway on my way to math class and grabbed me around the throat. In my head I wasn't even mad at her, so I was really confused at first and thought she had one of her drastic mood swings and was hugging me. She was not.
Anyway, she tried to get me to fight her in the middle of the most crowded hallway in school. It was nothing serious but she was like grabbing me and pushing me and screaming expletives and trying to get me to hit her back so we could actually fight. My parents always blamed me when people started shit and I didn't feel like dealing with drama at home too so I tried to de-escalate and just stood there. I was also smaller than her and am extremely weak and uncoordinated, so I definitely would've lost.
There were at least 50 people watching in horror. It got filmed. It was an absolutely huge spectacle and one of the only "fights" at my white upper middle class high school so the video was everywhere. Three teachers had to pull her off of me. I worked in a grocery store and underclassmen would come up to me laughing and ask if I was the girl from the video. Humiliating. The school did not call my parents and I did not tell them what happened because they would've gotten mad at me.
Anyway, she picks a fight with a kid who had some intellectual disabilities and anger management issues and gets her lights punched out like a week later. The school year ends shortly and I go to Florida with my family. While I am in Florida, I get a call from the police. They ask me if I'm having any friend drama with a brunette. I'm so scared and confused and think this is about the "fight" so I say yeah.
They tell me that she came to my house with our other friend in broad daylight and was doing donuts outside my house screaming bitch and cunt and whatever else and throwing food at my house and car. A couple of the neighbors called the police and wrote down her license plate. When the cops came to her house she tried to tell them that I called them and made up the entire thing to get revenge on her. Then the cops were like "Haha liar, she's in Florida."
All of the dads on my street are living for the drama and desperately want me to press charges but I'm so fucking embarrassed I tell the cops "Please do not press charges" and say I'm not saying anything else. They tell me they still have to press lesser charges but they're not gonna make me get involved. The friend she was with was younger and caved immediately and confessed to everything.
I didn't want any involvement or to hear anything else about it but they both got charged with something not very serious, I think the younger one just had to write an essay and they'd drop it.
Anyway, I genuinely miss her and think she was a great friend but she had some screws loose. We were very homoerotic and she was the most fiercely loyal person I've ever met. One time she attacked a girl that was picking on us with a music stand in front of hundreds of people and the girl never bothered me again, which is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me and will ever do for me, probably.
I really loved her and I knew she had a rougher background than I did and was starting on a not-great path. In retrospect, our friendship was more messed up than I realized-- she fucked my ex-girl-fling solely so they could get "revenge" on me and no one ever told me until 7 years later. I didn't even notice or think she'd do something like that but I suspect it had to do with the whole homoeroticism thing.
Anyway, I was definitely kind of shitty and super annoying when I was 16 too but I think why we split up boiled down to the fact that I was very serious about staying away from sex/drugs/alcohol until I was like 19-20, whereas my friends including her started to experiment at like 15-16. I don't think I would've actually snitched, but I think they rightfully perceived me as a snitch because I acted like one and was really annoying about how we shouldn't do that stuff.
Later I found out she had this drug dealer boyfriend for like a year I didn't know about and was off doing whatever substances with these girls she told me she hated, while telling them she hated me. I could see she was on a not awesome path and we were growing apart and I tried to get her off it. When I was 17 I really wanted for us to both run off to Chicago together but in retrospect I definitely think I was just berating her and acting like an annoying square/virgin and making her feel bad about her academic performance and this was never going to happen.
A year or so later I was in a cemetery at midnight on New Years' listening to My Chemical Romance and drinking sparkling grape juice with my friends. This car also in the cemetery started revving up and acting like it was gonna ram us. We got so scared we floored it out of there backwards with everyone in the car screaming but we realized once we got out it was her car.
She ended up getting arrested for pot later and posted her getting arrested on Snapchat. Idk where she is now. Everyone was so afraid of her at that point that if they saw her in public they would run. I still miss her a lot though.
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violetmuses · 2 years
Text
Caught Up - Stephen Holder (High School AU)
TITLE: “Caught Up” || Stephen Holder (High School AU)
FANDOM: “The Killing” (AMC/Netflix Series)
CHARACTER: Homicide Detective Stephen Holder
MAIN PAIRING: Female Reader + Stephen Holder
MAIN STORYLINE: During high school, truly crossing paths with you just might change Holder for the rest of his life.  
MAIN WARNINGS: Slight angst, dark themes, etc.
Author’s Note: Hi, here’s another idea. Feedback would be greatly appreciated and thanks so much for reading my work as always. Enjoy! - V. 💜
 Main Masterlist 💜
J Krew: @nerdysuperchick @a-reader-and-a-writer @babblydrabbly @lacontroller1991 @shadowkittybucky @loverhymeswith @justin-hammers @weallhaveadestiny @xoxabs88xox @katjnordstrom96   @mayhem24-7forever @fangirl0917 @skvatnavle @sociiallydiisoriiented @heresathreebee @alieninoklahoma @bewitchedignition @maddu-oliveira @reveluving @sugapapichulo @hodgepodge-of-rog @ijustthinkrickflagisprettyneat @ed-baldwin
________
2012
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“Stephen!” Principal Warner crosses both arms after yelling out loud for the millionth occasion this semester. Overhead lighting beams all across the football field and its nearest areas. 
Once again, delinquent high school senior Stephen Holder lights up one of those poisonous cigarettes while standing under hard line bleachers. Across this railed section of metal gate, other students cheer on a team that barely wins games. 
Not even caring, Stephen blows another drag and fumes these vapors towards Warner's aging face. By now, almost everyone located on school grounds knows better than to keep debating this kind of behavior, regardless of campus guidelines. 
Without gaining an education, Holder surely would’ve panhandled on dark Seattle streets as a homeless student. At least either one of his parents cared enough to drop him off each morning, even if parent-teacher conferences weren’t rosy. 
“What’s your problem? I’m not smoking near the football players.” Holder stubs his cigarette onto the ground, patting down its ashes with his sneaker. He’d wanted kicks like Jordans for years, but these discount shoes were all Mom could get now. 
“Why not stop hiding and pick up snacks from our concession stand? You haven’t even watched the game, Holder.” Principal Warner tries to boost his mood and grin towards Stephen, but the young man only scoffs in return. 
“Come on. The only reason people show up to football games is because there’s nothin’ else to do, Warner. For real. Besides, basketball here gets more attention since we ain’t swamped after midterms.” Stephen rolls his eyes, telling the truth. He’d much rather watch basketball anyway. 
“Visiting the games gets you kids away from these damn phones, too.” Warner lifts his own cellular device and remembers how much his own teenagers scroll through bullshit every single day. 
“Whatever.” Holder says. He’s brushed off Principal Warner comments before opening a bag of chips and sitting down not far away from the bleachers. 
Oh, well. I’ll try again next time. Warner thinks, moving away to leave Stephen alone. 
________
The team lost this time around, but you still don’t care. As long as tickets stayed cheap enough to attend these games almost every Friday, you’d be happy. 
For just about two hours, homework didn’t leave your brain scattered, snacks were plentiful, and you could dance along with the cheer squad, laughing regardless of how cheesy you felt. 
While enjoying your last slurpee of the night and heading towards your car to drive home, someone clears their throat out of nowhere. 
You turn around, wearing a school spirit t-shirt. Another classmate had given this shirt to you after it shrunk in the dryer one day. 
“Oh, hi.” You pause mid-stride and lift this slurpee cup after recognizing Stephen Holder. He’s sporting a hoodie with jeans and sneakers. His blondish is swept to the side as usual. 
“Hey,” Stephen clears his throat awkwardly without keeping a cigarette between long fingers. He fidgets and pockets both hands into his sweatshirt, looking quite restless in one way or another. 
You’ve heard many rumors about him and his family, but there’s no room to judge like other people around here. 
“Is everything okay?” You take out your keys and unlock the car. Lights of this vehicle brighten Stephen’s pale face for a moment. 
“Yeah. I just…” Holder trails off his words as soon as another car pulls up not far away. Music gently plays from the radio before someone lowers its dial and rolls down the window. 
“Stephen!” A man almost yells out loud from the driver’s seat and unlocks that passenger side door. Stephen is left with no other choice but to leave you alone until next time. 
“Oh, bye.” Stephen clips the farwell, hardly waving goodbye to you. 
“Bye!” You wave and smile back regardless. Someone probably needed to pick him and rush home before darkness loomed everywhere. 
On the other hand, you slide into the driver’s seat of your own car and pull off, heading home to cool down from this amazing night at the game. 
______
“Sorry for being late, kid. Your mother’s still working at the hospital and I just got off work myself.” His father sighs once more and Holder fights an urge to roll both eyes. 
Dad gives the same excuse every semester. Stephen thinks to himself. He only shows up if Mom is busy, not because this man actually cares about the kids. 
“It’s all good.” Holder puts a backpack in the spare bedroom of this small apartment and turns around to face his Dad. “Good night, Pops.” 
“Good night, but are you sure that you’re not hungry? Ordered up some pizza earlier if you want some.” Dad points towards the fridge, but Holder shakes his head. 
“No, thanks.” Holder refuses once more and slumps into the extra bedroom, closing the door behind him. 
______
To Holder, this spare bedroom is now his only saving grace found in Dad’s apartment. 
Athletic or music posters lined almost every wall. One small basketball hoop is clipped behind the door. A decent television has mounted nearby. Both doors of the closet align outfits, shoes and hoodies. Thankfully, Stephen’s own bed is comfortable and there’s still enough space that fits everything for homework.  
After lining up his cell phone to charge and turning on this cornered desk lamp, Stephen organizes essentials and clicks one pen, ready to complete homework assignments early. 
I’m graduating, dammit, even if I gotta crawl across the stage. Holder gives himself that reminder once again and focuses, dreaming of college acceptance letters. 
Stephen can’t let you down, either, someone who’s actually proud of the school.  
______
By the following week, Stephen already feels like he’s standing on top of the world. 
He’s aced quizzes in class, completed homework without struggling much beforehand, and even Principal Warner hasn’t bugged him in days.
While he didn’t rush through this gate to attend this week’s football game, Stephen  dares to visit the concession stand first and orders snacks. 
Other classmates gasp in surprise as Holder carries popcorn and a drink before walking towards his favorite end of the bleachers. 
For once, more people smile than frown near him, however fleeting their own expressions might be. 
______
“Stephen!” You wave almost frantically while holding another slurpee in your opposite hand.  
“Hey, Y/N.” He reveals your name and gestures for you to move closer towards the bleachers without spilling that beloved drink. 
“You’re in a much better mood.” You complement Stephen and sit near him, cornered away from the large crowds. 
“Thanks, girl. An advisor said that If I keep this up, I’ll be back on track for graduation.” Holder responds while facing you. He’s giving out the first true smile in weeks, looking joyful. 
“Good. I’m not walking without you, either.” You encourage him. You tonight might not have always bonded with Stephen like great friends, but you still looked out for him. 
“Deal.” Stephen promises. “Now, let’s see if we’ll win tonight.” 
_________
“You don’t drive?” You ask Holder the question after zipping up his hoodie and standing in the parking near your car later that night. 
“I’ve had my license for a while, but I can’t afford a ride of my own yet.” With consent, Stephen has looped his arm around your shoulder to beat Seattle chill as fall arrives. “Maybe I can drive alone before college.” 
“I’m sorry.” You pout, genuinely sad for him. In the few classes you’ve had left with Stephen, you know how bright he truly is, but home life still isn't too great compared with you and others.
“Don’t trip, Mama. It could be worse.” Holder shrugs. You unzip his sweatshirt and want to return it before going home, but he then stops you midway. 
“Oh,” you struggle to speak for a moment . “What?” 
“Keep it. Please. It’s freezin’ tonight.” Stephen notices how chipper the air feels, even without snow falling outside just yet. 
“Really? Thanks.” You smile towards him. Stephen thinks that you look cute in his hoodie regardless, having put it on during halftime. 
“No problem.” Stephen clips those two words just as headlights of his father’s truck loom in the distance.
“See you soon.” You say goodbye and go your separate ways again as Holder leaves you behind. 
****
After meeting up during football games and returning home separately almost every week, you and Stephen finally change plans. Not long after another game ends, Stephen drives your car out of this lot. You turn up the radio, jamming. 
Because of the late night hour, you and Stephen resort to sitting back in the car after picking up takeout. 
As long as street lights beam outdoors, both of you have peace of mind before heading home. 
“What do you wanna do after graduation?” Stephen is sitting across from you in the passenger seat again and corners himself to somehow eat without making a mess in your car. 
“College. To be honest, I want to get out of here as soon as possible.” You offer the truth and have dreamt of studying under palm trees. 
“I’m not even sure where I’ll go for college, but applying for scholarships still ain’t easy, girl.” Stephen answers you between bites of his meal from the styrofoam box. 
“Don’t worry, you’ll find a good place to go.” You encourage Holder once more and smile, finishing your meal first. 
“Thanks. Ready to go? I’ll drive us back.” Stephen makes an offer again and smiles once those takeout boxes are settled away. 
“Sure.” You nod, thankful that Holder is respectful enough to be careful this evening. At the wrong time, anything could’ve happened. 
____________
More football games. More late-night food. More joy. 
Months later, when graduation finally ends the semester, you want to cry. 
Not only is Holder standing right in front of you, dressed in his well-earned cap and gown, but he looks adorable, smiling like a kid who just found Halloween candy after school. 
“My cap still doesn’t fit right.” Stephen pouts. The tassel swings and covers his eye. Even then, he prepares to give you the best hug and soon kisses your cheek. You can’t help giggling. 
“I don’t care.” You smile in his arms, grateful as he rocks this embrace back and forth. 
“Stop hugging. I’m about to gag.” Linden, a brilliant redhead who kept your  connection with Stephen quiet until now, jokingly whispers before moving along to see members of her own family. 
Even both of Stephen’s parents are here, waiting and actually proud. Unfortunately though, Holder’s sister Liz hadn’t shown up with nephew Davie because she couldn't afford to fly through. 
“Got a surprise for you.” Stephen talks again after moving away from your hug and gives your an envelope. 
“What, did you find enough money that’ll cover my tuition?” You joke and wink towards Stephen before opening the envelope. 
“No. Sorry, Baby Girl.” Stephen shakes his head, but ends up smiling anyway. He’s kept this surprise away from you for weeks and only his parents know. 
“Dear Mr. Holder, it is with great pleasure to announce that…” Realization washes over your entire face and you don’t need to finish the letter’s opening statement. 
It’s an acceptance letter. Stephen has wanted to secure his own placement with one of the Criminal Justice programs forever. 
“C'mere." Stephen hugs you from behind before the letter can fall out of your trembling hands. Words cannot express how proud you feel. 
No matter what happens in the future, at least you’ll have each other now. 
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raskies456 · 2 years
Text
there’s this one fake mtg card someone showed me back in like highschool that without fail makes me lose my mind, since the day I first saw it I started quoting bits from it despite not even playing the game when it was shown to me and now I periodically trick my mtg friends into looking at it by hyping up this new cool card I just heard about and then showing them this thing without fail and they’re always so mad about it but even more so simply just bewildered by how unreasonably hilarious I find this thing
anyway look at it
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(ID in alt)
i don’t know what genius made this thing but it’s not even like. a well known meme or anything it’s literally just some card someone made as a joke over half a decade ago. people say things live rent free in their consciousness but with this thing I mean it. I hear the word ‘creepy’ and I say ‘Flying. He’s Loose’ and it’s more fundamental a response than any vine ref could ever be.
Also specifically when it comes to me saying “he’s loose” I will just say it in any possibly applicable situation, and I say it in a particular tone of voice and I guess I’ve said it enough in certain situations that both of my dogs have associated it with something unknown to me??? now they go hog wild if I say “he’s loose” in that tone of voice and start madly running around, I WILL film this if anyone is interested bc it is 100% the truth and it’s hilarious. no I don’t know what they think it means but it self reinforces now anyway
anyway if you remember when this card was my blog background image you get a senior discount
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scoups4lyfe · 2 years
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Am fascinated and do love Tarou's response being "You *might* be right." Even with his pathological honesty he doesn't discount the danger that excessive greed has but neither does he make it an absolute. For sure Tarou would never take dealing with Hitosuki as far as the Nouto do.
Hahahahahahaha :]].
I mean, I think both Momoi and Sonoi are very logical people. Momoi might not *get** why humans act in certain ways, but I'm sure he's seen how people can get so obsessed with one thing. And how easily they can hurt others for/because of said thing.
So, yeah.
"You might be right." is,,,,,, correct
I don't think it has anything really to do with personal bias/opinion or honesty. Because "Excessive greed could cause the end of the world" is a fact.
It's the reason why Utopias cannot exist.
Humans are inherently selfish. And they're also cowards. A real toxic combination.
I remember in my senior year of high school, during one of my college classes on International Politics, our teacher told us that although we can simulate what *should* happen. (Government wise.) That humans were not rational, logical people. They're swayed by emotions and because of it a simulation can only just be that -- a simulation.
Near finals, so we could take it easy, this same teacher had us paired in groups, and we were given a rando fictional country with rando resources. And then each day we could choose to either: put the country's resources into $$$ -- so prosperity for the citizens, or in the military, just in case another country wanted to attack us for our resources. And its a hard balance.
One country only put their resources into the economy, prosperity, and since they didn't have a big army there was this threat of invasion. So the leaders of that country went around making alliances/treaties. So that if war happened, they could rely on an ally's military, in exchange for providing that ally with a resource the country had that the ally needed. (Like fish or oil for example.)
Each day every country also got 2 secret objectives. One day, our country got the objective to go to the front and announce that we now had nukes.
We did.
In the span of 5 minutes every single one of the other countries were announcing they had nukes. As if our country doing that was an active threat to their country lmao rip.
Anyways as tensions continue to boil and alliances were made, one country that wanted $$$$ attacked the country without the army. Our country (were in the alliance with the prosperous country) so we stepped up to provide support, as did a bunch of other countries.
Seeing this, the "allies" for the country that declared the war backed out of the alliance LOL. Meaning the country that waged war was gonna get majorly screwed over. So the leader of that country was like "Well if I"M going down wE ALL ARE" and launched his nukes, which prompted everyone ELSE to launch THEIR nukes, and basically because of nuclear fallout, our class caused the entire end of the fictional world we were given.
( L O L) Our teacher was furious with us. Said that in all of his years teaching the class, this had NEVER happened before.
Anyways, I brought this up to make a point. And the point is, excessive greed *can* end the world. That possibility is a fact. All it takes is greed.
So Tarou saying "that might be true" is, well, the logical response to an illogical world. However, Momoi really loves people. He wants to make them happy. He wants to help. He wants to bring joy to others.
His desires are not selfish. Because his compassion for others is his primary motivation.
Sonoi's main motivation (at least when it comes to interacting with humans) is to protect the Nouto's realm from shattering because a human got too obsessed, and too greedy. Therefore, already it puts him at odds with humanity.
Their greed could kill him and his world (as well as the humans). So wiping out someone who fell to their greed is the most logical option. If they fell to greed once, whose to say if given another chance they won't just fall to their own greed once again?
Momoi choosing to take that chance of mutual destruction just on the unlikely chance the person he helped will change is,,,, wildly illogical and also where he and Sonoi differ.
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oldguy56-world · 2 years
Text
Down by The Lazy River
An announcement was made over the weekend that shocked, surprised and somewhat excited me. I will get to it in a moment but let me set the stage first. We live in a high rise condo. Many days when we are going out for a walk we see fellow dwellers meeting with Uber drivers in the lobby where a package is being handed off. You can always tell from the bag where it came from and it is often McDonald's. This is usually in the morning so I assume it is breakfast. Here is the kicker. We live directly across from a massive mall (I will try not to be too specific so as to avoid stalkers) and there is a Golden Arches inside. From our building it would be less than a 4 minute walk to get there. I understand seniors might have a hard time getting around but those receiving the food are always in their 20's. I will not pass comment on this but 'Give me a break!'
So what does that have to do with the announcement from the weekend? Patience Padawan. (Hey. I saw the first movie in the theater so I am entitled to use the phrase)
Anyway, the Ontario government has announced that Uber Eats will now be allowed to bring.....Cannabis to customers! I know that stoners (another term from my youth) are notoriously lazy but this weekend I did some extensive research and there are no less than 7 legitimate marijuana vendors in our immediate neighborhood. I suspect there might be others that are not legit and I don't think they would do home delivery but | am straying from the point.
Being this is a reality and truly going to happen I have some questions. All of them are logistical, none are ethical. Let's just say I am open minded on the subject.
How do you tip the driver? Normal practice is a % so do you roll them one and hand it over? | need to know the protocol just in case.
What if you are smart enough to realize you will also need munchies. Do you have to pay two delivery fees? If I was smart I would start a shop that sells both. A good name would be the Weed and Feed. I might have to get around to that someday.
Can future passengers in that Uber car get a contact high? If so it might be helpful for them to have to put a sticker on their cars designating they sometimes carry. I don't take Uber but if I saw this sticker I could be tempted to start.
If I organized my neighbors could we get a discount? Would that make me a dealer or a businessman?
Why? I just lost my train of thought. Why am I writing a blog? The last thing I remember was going out to do research on something. It is all foggy after that.
Have you ever noticed there are a lot of birds around?
THOUGHT OF THE WEEK: Clear minds think the best. A cleared mind is just the opposite.
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shurisneakers · 3 years
Note
if you're taking ideas for harmless drabbles, i'd love to see one of bucky on one of those dates he mentioned and reader's shenanigans. if you aren't, feel free to ignore this!
a/n: are we really going to let a word limit define what a drabble is? is the vibe and spirit not enough? i say this bc this is 5.7k words long im so sorry. also hey thank you to everyone who piped in with their knowledge of violent geese and how apartment security works in new york!! also thanks to my bby @spiderrpcrker for reading this and telling me to publish this bc i wasnt going to fkjghfkj
warning: swearing, bad luck, dates, frustrated bucky, anxiety, mentions of gore but like only a sentence
here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333
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Catch up with the rest of the series here: Harmless Masterlist
Bucky returns only two weeks later. His mission lasted longer than expected and all he wants is to lie down and sleep for forty eight hours straight.
“FRIDAY?” he mumbles, kicking off his shoes. His jacket had already been discarded by his bedroom door when he walked in.
“Yes, Sergeant Barnes?”
“How are ya?” He doesn’t miss a beat in asking, even though he’s exhausted.
“As good as ever. Did you have a successful mission?”
“If by successful you mean one sprained limb instead of two, then yeah.” He wasn’t really cribbing. His ankle was already starting to heal anyway and it was worth the roundhouse kick to a Nazi's face. “Do I have anything scheduled for this weekend?”
“You have a meeting on your calendar scheduled for this Saturday.”
“Could you send a text to Y/N and ask if we can push it to the next day?” His muscles feel sore and God, he could definitely use a hot shower but all of that becomes secondary the minute he feels the sheets under him.
“Would you like me to reschedule the other one as well?”
“What’s that?” He opens one eye in confusion. “There’s another one?”
“It’s on Sunday. You’ve labelled it ‘date’.”
Ah, fuck.
“Would you like me to change it?” FRIDAY never sounds like she’s judging him, which is nice. It also reminds him about how she, as an AI, can’t judge him, which is a rude wake-up call to how he doesn’t have friends.
“No,” his voice is muffled against the pillow, “no, let it be. Where is it again?”
“You’ve only specified diner, Sergeant Barnes.”
Public space, daytime, plenty of escape routes. Good on his less delirious self for selecting a diner.
“Thanks, FRIDAY.” Now that he’s a little more relaxed, he can feel himself slip in and out of consciousness.
“One last thing," her automated voice commands his attention again. "Y/N replied. She says sure and to take care.”
“Yay.” Not even a second later he’s out like a light.
____
“Did you bring me any souvenirs?” Is the first thing he hears as he marches into your lair.
“What could I possibly get you?”
“A postcard, a t-shirt.” You don’t look up from your tinkering.
“Decapitated finger, used bullets,” he continues, “cement blocks.”
“Ew.” You snap the lid shut on the thing you’re working on, spinning around on your chair. "That's not nearly romantic enough."
“That’s all you’re going to get from a Russian underground bunker.” He does a mini jog up the stairs of the platform to where you are.
“Does the finger have a ring at lea- oh hello?” You raise an eyebrow at the sight of him. “You look different.”
He peers down. The outfit was still all black. As always.
“Not your clothes, dummy,” you interrupt, making him look back at you. “Your face. What’d you do?”
He unconsciously raises a hand to his cheek.
“Did you wash your face? Is that it?” you squint at him. “Has it been a few months since the last time?”
“Wow, you’re so funny,” he drawls sarcastically.  “Top tier comedian right there.”
“No wait, it’s the beard.” You snap your fingers in realisation, completely ignoring his comment. “You trimmed it.”
“So what if I did?” He leans on your table.
“You going somewhere?” you ask, elastic snapping against your hands as you remove your gloves.
“It’s none of your busi-”
“Hold on a second.” A sly smile begins to make its way onto your face. “Are you going on a date, Bucky Barnes?”
His comeback dies down in his throat. That didn’t take you very long for you to figure out.
“I’m right, aren’t I?” You look smug, to say the least.
“Shut up.” A ray of light glistening distracts him. He traces it to the thing you were working on earlier.
“Where are you guys going?” You cross your arm across your chest, a small smirk on your face.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” It’s a silver box, engraved intricately with swirls that, when he observes carefully, looks like a skull. Wow, terrifying.
“I’m literally asking you.”
“What are those?” He shifts the conversation towards a more productive angle instead.
“Evil in a box and some other stuff.” You shrug offhandedly. “Is it a lunch date or just coffee?”
“Like Pandora’s Box?”
“A discount version, sure,” you confirmed impatiently. “Stop changing the topic, listen to me.”
He tilts his head, waiting for you to continue.
“Do you need a chaperone?” The sincerity in your voice for such a bullshit question has him scoffing.
“Good God- no, I do not need a chaperone. I’m 106 years old, I can go out unsupervised.” He reaches over and plucks the box off your table.
“Sir, you’re a geriatric."
“What are those?” He points to a few ray odd ray guns.
“Minor stuff you don’t have to worry about right now.”
He shakes the box in his hand. “What’s gonna happen if I open this?”
“Very bad things,” you whispered ominously before your volume returns to normal. “How’d you meet this person? Online?”
“She’s Natasha’s friend.” He turns the box over, seeing a small latch at the side. “What bad things?”
“Bad luck and misery. Don’t play with it, it’s dangerous.” You pull the box away from him. “Aw, is it a blind date?”
“Why do you care so much?” he shoots back, tugging the box back towards him.
“Just lookin’ out for you, Bucko,” you huff, adjusting your grip on your device. “Need to keep my favourite senior citizen safe.”
“I have a vibranium arm.” Whose force he could use to grab the box once and for all, but wasn’t. “I think I’ll be fine.”
“What if she has one too, huh? Then what?”
“She doesn’t.” As far as he knows, he’s the only one alive with a metal appendage made out of the strongest metal in the world. That could very well change by tomorrow but he's keeping the title for now.
“But what if she does? I swear to- stop trying to take the box!” You pull a little more forcefully, but he doesn’t relent.
“I want this to get over before this evening.”
“What time’s your date?”
“Why do you care?” He’s sure anyone who saw the dumb tug-of-war you both were playing would just automatically assume he was an absolute manchild, not an Avenger.
“Because.” You don’t explain further. “Tell me what time your date is, you weirdo.”
“Five o’clock, now let go.”
“Fine,” you say, suddenly loosening your grip. Clearly, it doesn't make much of a difference since he isn't struggling to keep his balance from the sudden loss of force.
“Fine.” He clears his throat, straightening up. 
You don’t say anything. He doesn’t either.
A putrid smell creeps into his nose, one all too similar to spoiled milk and decaying seaweed. He has to physically stop himself from gagging.
“Have a good day.” You smile and lean far back. Too far. It looks like you're almost going to fall out of the chair.
Through the tears that are threatening to line his eyelids, he looks down at the box whose latch you somehow managed to lift, leaving the box open.
“What the fuck is this?” He coughs, swatting at the air in front of him to clear it.
“I told you; bad luck in a box.”
“You can’t scientifically create bad luck, that’s bullshit.” He tosses the box back onto your table. You watch it slide past you, not making any effort to stop it. “What is it really?”
“I’m not lying.” You pull open a drawer, brandishing a small table fan that you set down beside you. “If you open it, you’re going to have terrible luck for the day.”
He glowers at you when you turn the fan on, forcing the fumes back towards him.
“Besides, that’s all I was doing today.” You kick your feet up. “So you can leave now.”
He doesn’t care if you’re lying about not having anything else to do today. You could burn down the world if you wanted to but he needs to take a stupid shower. Again.
“You’re the fuckin’ worst.” He tries airing out his shirt, hoping that the smell would dissipate as soon as possible.
“Have fun on your date, sarge!” you encourage him as he stalks out of the lair. “Remember to wrap it befo-”
He turns it into a sprint before you can finish.
____
Six hours later and he’s absolutely convinced he fucked up.
He isn’t used to having his weekends free.
He realises that this is the first time in months that he’s actually stepped out of the Tower for something that wasn’t directly mission-related. He should probably get some air. Touch some grass. See the sun.
His shirt thankfully manages to rid itself of the odour from the dumb box so he didn’t have to go take a shower. With nothing much planned and a few hours to spare, he heads to the coffee shop instead.
It’s a small place, bustling and alive with a crowd of people. They have a little bookshelf that usually is full of books donated by patrons, free for anyone to read.
The barista smiles at him. The coffee costs more than his high school education. He awkwardly smiles back.
He’s not a regular, but they’ve seen him enough times to know that he usually asks for black coffee in a to-go cup, later adding a sugar or two according to his own taste. They're nice to him, occasionally throwing in a cookie or something on the house. He can't tell if it's because of the Avenger status or the sizeable tip he leaves.
He picks up a random book from the shelf, fully intending not to read it but to just sit there and think. The book acted as a shield for his resting bitch face, resting murder face and his resting rage face. More often than not, a good combination of the three.
He sets the coffee down at the corner table he manages to nab in a quick second, along with the two sachets of sugar.
“Is this seat taken?” Someone asks from beside him. He earnestly shakes his head in a ‘no’, gesturing for them to take it.
They give him a quick thanks and drag the chair away from his table.
He does a quick overlook of the book he picked up.
The Princess Diaries by Meg Cabot.
Well, now he’s too anxious to put it back. YA fiction it is.
He reaches for the sugar while glossing over the summary. He reaches a little further when it doesn’t come to his hand immediately, blindly running his fingers across the table.
Bucky peeks over the book, eyebrows knitting together when he notices that they’re missing.
He was sure he picked it up.
He looks underneath the table. It wasn’t there, neither under his seat. Strange, but okay. He picks up the book and the cup, walking back to the station to grab two sugars.
This time he makes sure to tuck it into his pocket, double-checking before going back to his table.
Which was now occupied. He wanted to groan.
His mind automatically reverts back to the box from that morning.
“Come on,” he scoffs quietly to himself. It was a coincidence. “Get yourself together.”
“A seat at the counter just cleared up,” the barista from earlier offers when she sees him standing in the middle of the store.
See? Good luck.
He shoots her a grateful look, venturing over to the barstool to take his place. It’s not the most comfortable, but then again, he wasn’t planning to stay there for very long.
He empties the sugar into the coffee, stirring slowly before opening a random page in the book.
He takes a long sip, ignoring how hot the drink was.
He chokes immediately. Because either he was losing his mind or his order had somehow got switched from ‘no sugar’ to ‘diabetes in a cup’.
He takes another small sip and his face immediately twists in disgust. Definitely too sweet. The sweetener he added only made it worse.
He catches the eye of the barista. She looks on in concern.
“Is everything okay?”
Fuck.
He’s not one to make a scene. He just wants to live as imperceptibly as he could.
“Yep.” The sweetness sticks to the back of his throat. “All good.”
He just closes his eyes and downs the rest of it without thinking twice, trying to hide the grimace in his face. He gives her a weak thumbs up. She doesn't look convinced.
He leaves the shop soon after, hands shoved in his pocket. Maybe he could go sit by the lake at Central Park, watch the clouds. It reminded Bucky of the lake in front of his hut in Wakanda and the hours he'd sit in front of it, feet dipped into the water as his goats fed. He misses it.
He makes a sharp turn at a corner, still thinking about his options when his ankle abruptly twists under him.
He stumbles rather ungracefully, almost hitting the ground, but manages to save himself through the newly built up immunity he has towards falling thanks to all his encounters with you.
His gaze lands on his hardcore combat boots. Their laces had come undone.
Now he just knew that was horseshit. He always double knots them; they had never loosened in the past before.
The box.
He shoves the thought out of his head, crouching down to tie them again. He tugs on them to make sure they’re secure before standing up again.
Central Park is a few blocks away but he’s glad he didn’t bring his bike. The weather was rather nice and the wind in his hair felt good.
He wanders around the park for a while, looking for the lake. He pauses at a board with a map of the park on it, assessing how far it was.
Once he's ascertained which path to go towards, he turns on his heel to go.
He fucking trips again.
“Are you serious?” he says furiously under his breath. “Cut it out.”
He’s half-convinced that he should tie it around his ankle like a sexy lace-up set of heels. He ties a triple knot this time, glares at it until he’s sure it’s fine and checks to see if anyone saw him humiliate himself.
Only a person on a nearby bench who looked like they were passed out drunk, given that their hoodie and sunglasses clad self was slumped over.
No witnesses. No 'You won't BELIEVE what the Winter Soldier did! Critics say it's his biggest blunder yet!' articles the next day on social media.
He manages to make it to the lake in one piece and no more falls, partly because he keeps his eyes fixed on his shoes to ensure no fuckery occurs.
There are a few people rowing and plenty of others lining the bank at scattered locations. There’s a mom and her kid at the place he ends up. She sends him a small smile in greeting and he returns the favour.
There’s a secluded bench that he takes a place on, letting out a small sigh. If he ignores the traffic and the skateboarders and the people in general, it’s actually kind of peaceful.
There are geese and their little goslings swimming around the water close to the shore. Maybe he should have brought some birdseed. Or kale.
The kid beside him is busy fashioning something out of leaves, only occasionally erupting into giggles when it doesn't pan out. His mom watches him fondly, pointing at twigs he could use. Everything seems kind of picture-perfect and his body automatically relaxes, easing further into the seat and closing his eyes for a second.
Until there's a large splash and loud distressed honking. He whips his head around to find the same kid staring straight ahead at the goose with a wide grin. His mother curses quietly, picking herself up off the ground and grabbing his hand, half chastising him for throwing something at an animal and half urging him to walk faster.
The goose turns to Bucky. With no one else to blame for the sudden attack, it logically launches itself at him. His smile drops.
He gets up in a rush. The dumb bird nearly comes for his head, but he deflects with his metal arm.
“I didn’t even do anything.” He swats at it swiftly, trying not to cause any real damage. The goose, understandably, does not speak English.
He flinches when one of them bites at his knee. He can punt it to the sun but he doesn’t want to.
“Stop that.” He sticks his hand out to shove the stupid thing away, retreating back to the road. “Jesus, why are you so aggressive?”
Among the barrage of feathers showering on him, he prays his damn shoelace doesn’t unravel as he shields his head with one arm, the other fending himself while he moves hurriedly away.
The goose honks angrily at him. He scowls at it, not exactly pleased with the reminder that these fucking overgrown ducks were constantly bloodthirsty.
It doesn’t leave him alone till he’s significantly away from where he was sitting. He wants to call it profanity but that’d probably piss it off more.
The box and its effects were definitely starting to feel real.
Fuck it, no more day out for him. The best plan he can think of is to just go to the diner he’s supposed to meet his date at.
The waiter greets him with a courteous nod, which Bucky can only imagine was the best he could muster when a dishevelled 200-pound man walks in covered in goose feathers and irritation.
He won't admit that he’s too scared to eat lunch at this point because he can’t rule out food poisoning. He spends the next two hours on his phone playing Fruit Ninja and plucking feathers that accented his all-black outfit.
Several glasses of water later and a second before he’s about to beat his high score, someone taps on his shoulder, breaking him out of his concentration.
Motherfu-
He clenches his eye shut, inhaling deeply before turning around.
“James?”
“Hey, yeah, that’s me.” Bucky almost falls over the table with how fast he stands up, clearly underestimating his size. “Leah?”
“Hi.” She smiles and he finds himself smiling nervously along with her.
“Hi.” He steps out to pull out her chair for her and she laughs. "Nice to meet you."
“How long have you been waiting here?” she asks while setting down her bag.
“Around ten minutes.” He clears his throat to hopefully hide the fact that he was lying through his teeth.
“Just give me a second, I need to tell my friend I reached,” Leah pulls out her phone and he nods.
“Another glass of water for you?” The waiter seems less enthusiastic about Bucky’s 8th refill.
“Yes,” he answers, hoping he doesn’t call him out on it, “please.”
“You must be really dehydrated."
Bucky turns to look at him slowly. “I like the taste.”
He can’t really blame the guy. Bucky’s been there for hours without ordering anything solid, just leaching off their free water and complimentary bread basket.
“So, James.” She tosses her phone back into her bag, leaning forward on her palms easily. “Tell me about yourself.”
He had rehearsed this a million times. He could do this.
“I, uh,-”
“Menu?” Okay, so someone clearly had a vendetta against him.
“Thank you.” She takes it with a smile.
His morning debacle with the coffee flashes through his mind. Suddenly the idea of a diner didn’t seem so smart.
However, she’s already placed her order and George is standing beside him expectantly, daring him to ask for another glass of water, so he places his usual order and hopes that your stupid bad luck thing wore off.
He quickly learns that his date is laid back, and it isn’t hard to fall into a rhythm with her even though she’s the one asking most of the questions.
“How’d you meet Nat?” Is his attempt at one.
“She used to come in for lunch every week at the place I work.” Leah leans back in her chair. “She can really handle her alcohol.”
He’d be worried about Nat day drinking if he didn’t know about her complete inability to get drunk. She might as well have been downing glasses of lemonade.
“Yeah, she’s-” Intimidating, scary, cool “-really something.”
“She mentioned that you like movies.”  He definitely spends a lot of time watching them. “You got any recommendations?”
It’s easier to figure out how different things are or how much he missed out over the years through them. He’s glad he sat out the early 2000s, judging by their fashion sense and hairstyles.
He's watched several movies over the past few months, a few of them critically acclaimed and others who were just there for the cult following.
But now everything goes blank and the only thing that he can remember are the biopics made about Steve that were somehow hilarious for gifting him the mental image of Freddie Prinze Jr. dressed in the stars and stripes, and highly distressing for the number of historical inaccuracies. Contrary to popular belief, Stevie did not, in fact, consider running for president after he took up the shield, nor did he start his own bar chain.
He can’t name Oh Captain, My Captain starring Channing Tatum as his favourite movie on his first date and hope to make a good first impression.
“Despicable Me was kinda fun.” He wants to kill himself. “I mean, it’s the last one I saw.”
Her face twists in mild disgust, but he can tell it isn't ill-intentioned. “It's a good movie, but God, that just gave me some intense flashbacks to my aunt’s Facebook page. Don’t think I can look at a minion ever again.”
He sniggers with her. He doesn’t know what the context is.
He’s a little awkward, and he can definitely tell he isn’t the most open book but she laughs at some of his attempts at jokes. There’s a distinct discomfort he has lingering at the back of his mind prodding at him, telling him over and over again that he isn’t ready for something like this. A warning bell, asking him to leave as soon as possible because he was in a dangerous situation.
He remembers what his therapist told him about breathing and remembering that the resources he had available were greater than his anxiety and he tries to get out of his head. It takes a few minutes of acting like he's fine but he manages to do it.
Other than the one time he scalds his tongue on the coffee but played it off with a pained smile, shoving down thoughts of your stupid invention, things actually went okay.
It was nice, even though they decided by the end that it was better if they both gelled together better as friends. It lifts the strange fear he feels and he can hear Dr. Mendoza say she's proud of him for taking this step before spending three hours psychoanalysing why they decided to stay platonic.
Bucky promises to visit her sushi shop with Nat soon and she says a bottle of sake awaits him for a drinking game. He doesn’t have the heart to tell her that Nat and he share the same tolerance for alcohol.
He makes sure to leave George a tip. A big one. It’s the first time he sees the guy smile the entire evening.
He’s waving goodbye to Leah outside and he thinks that maybe it was a good end to the day and that things actually turned out fine.
Until he turns around to leave, only to have someone walk straight into him with an iced tea.
The cold comes as a bit of a shock, making him jump slightly. He stares at his shirt, using his fingertips to pull it away from his body.
The person melts into a series of apologies immediately, offering to dry clean his shirt but Bucky just forces a shake of his head and says it’s okay even though he can feel the sugar making the shirt stick to his chest. Goose feathers and iced tea. Was there anything else that would like to attach itself to him?
His fists clench and his teeth grit and he has to physically control himself from sprinting to your lair because God knows what else is in store for him and he didn't want to add in any way.
The door to the lair is locked. Fuckin’ brilliant.
When no one answers after minutes worth of waiting, he fishes for his phone and realises that maybe two hours of Fruit Ninja was not the best idea, especially on a phone known for having shitty battery life.
There’s roughly 2 percent left. By the time he opens his app to give you a call, his phone screen goes black.
He groans. He’s desperate at this point and under any other normal circumstances, he would have never, ever considered doing this.
But ten minutes later he’s outside your apartment building. You’re aware that he has your address; no doubt that it was in the SHIELD file he had gotten, and he knows that you know but it was still weird.
The buzzer has your last name listed next to it. He’s sure that he’ll break it if he keeps pressing it at this rate but he really needs you to let him in.
“Who the fu-” your voice comes through the intercom.
“I’m sorry for showing up like this, my phone died and I couldn’t reach you,” He breathes out as soon as he hears you. “But I need you to fix this.”
When he doesn’t hear a reply, he wonders if the thing actually worked. He’s about to start pressing it again-
“Bucky?” You sound a little surprised to hear him. “You’re at my house. Why are you at my house?”
“I need you to fix whatever this is.”
“What are you- fine, I’m buzzing you in,” your voice, initially confused soon trails off into something more dismissive.
There’s a soft click from the door, allowing him to push it open. The elevator is already on the same floor as him so he just uses that.
The elevator goes up a floor or two. His feet tap restlessly against the carpeted floor.
The lights turn off and everything comes to a standstill. His foot stops tapping.
He should have known. He should have fucking known.
Thirty seconds pass. He’s still in pitch darkness with the elevator showing no signs of moving.
In fact, he’s resigned to his fate. He sits down on the ground, only one step away from completely laying down and hoping someone finds his body here someday.
It’s six minutes of plain silence. He might as well get comfortable if he’s going to get stuck here for the rest of his life. Did he change his will? Does he even have a will?
There’s finally a whir. He thinks that maybe he’s going to plummet to his doom as the perfect end to this day, but then the light switches on and it starts moving upward.
It stops at the floor with a ding. He doesn’t get off the ground, only eyes the door wearily. With his luck, it wouldn’t open.
But it does and within a second he’s on his feet, scrambling to get out before it changes its mind.
He remembers your door number, basically charging down the hall to get to it.
The door is white and the paint is starting to chip off it. The handle itself is dented in a few places and he wonders if it was your fault or someone else's.
His knocks are rapid, agitated even. He doesn’t stop until he hears your loud shouts telling him to cut it out.
“What the hell were you doing, trying to break down my door?” It swings open, revealing you in your pajamas. “Haven’t you done that already? And where were you, I’ve been waiting for like, ten minutes.”
He honestly feels bad for showing up uninvited and highly flustered. He can’t imagine it’s a pretty sight either. "This bad luck shit- fix it. My whole day’s been fucked up.”
“What are you-” Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, taking in his appearance.
It takes you a second to realise what he’s talking about but when you do, your face settles.
“How was your date?” You lean against the door frame, arms crossed over your chest.
“Really,” He glowered at you, “that’s what you care about?”
“Yes.” You nod. “Did you have fun?”
He hesitates. “I guess?”
“Was she nice?”
“Yeah.” Where was this going.
“Good, I’m happy for you.” The smile on your face is genuine. “Look at you go, Casanova.”
“We agreed to be just friends, but that’s not the point here. Y/N,” he whines. “I have a mission next week, I can’t afford to fuck up. My whole day was off and I don’t want it to carry over.”
“Your whole day?” you questioned, standing up instead of leaning against the wall. “Buck-”
“Just fix it.”
“Okay.” You lift your hand up, extending it towards his face.
He waits for you to do something.
You flick him on the forehead.
“There,” you declare, going back to your previous position. “you’re cured.”
What.
He says exactly what he’s thinking.
You laugh. “Dude. I was fucking with you.”
Huh?
“Well, actually maybe just like, three things and then I got bored.”
He’s confused.
“You know,” you begin when he doesn’t reply, “taking the sugar packets, switching your coffee order when you were looking under the table, took your place when you left, the shoelaces.”
“The shoelaces?”
“Yeah.” You nod. “That’s the other ray gun you saw this morning. Unties your shoelaces. I stopped after that because I thought you figured it out.”
His face scrunches in puzzlement.
“I mean, you looked right at me and told me to cut it out.”
He racks his brain about what you could possibly be talking about before it hits him. The hungover person on the goddamn bench in the park.
“You were the one in the hoodie and sunglasses.”
“I just followed the Avengers’ code of disguise.” You shrug. “Turns out it kinda works. Also teleportation. So helpful.”
He forgot about the teleportation. That's why you could do all of it so fast without him noticing you were even there.
“What about the fucking geese?”
You pause for a second. “The geese?”
“And the elevator.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” The confusion on your face is apparent. “What geese and elevator? I have no idea what you’re saying right now.”
“Everything’s been a mess today,” he grumbles. “I don’t know what’s real or not.”
“I swear I had nothing to do with it other than what I mentioned.” There’s indignation on your features that quickly gives way to delight. “Holy shit, did I just accidentally invent portable bad luck?”
“Okay-” his palm finds its way to his forehead in exasperation, “-then what the hell was the smell?”
“What smell- oh, the one from the box?”
He nods briskly.
“Secretions Magnifique.” You snorted. “It’s a perfume. The worst rated one I could find.”
“Perfume?”
“With notes of milk, seaweed and sandalwood.”
“It wasn’t an inator?”
“No, it wasn- did you get vibe checked by a goose at the park?” You stifle a laugh when you notice a stray feather on his thigh.
“What does that even mean?” he asks in despair.
“I can see why it attacked you. You got bad juju.” You raise an eyebrow. “Maybe if you stop staring so much-”
“So I just have shit luck.” Is that a fucking relief or even worse?
“Well,” you begin but decide not to continue.
Even with all the irritability masking it, you could see that he genuinely was just not having a good time.
“Wait here a second.”
You leave him at the door. He shifts his balance and sighs, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. He still had to walk back to the Tower. Maybe he could grab a slice of pizza along the way since he skipped lunch.
“Okay, here.” You return with a large glass of water. He only looks at it. “It’s just water, I promise. You look like you ran a marathon."
He takes it from you sceptically, pushing away the urge to sniff at it. It’s gone within a few gulps.
You wait until he’s finished to point at his arm. He draws his eyebrows together, but you only curl your index finger and beckon for him to give you his hand.
He reluctantly extends it towards you.
“Don’t laugh,” you warn him, taking his metal arm. “This usually helps me.”
You tie a small bracelet around his wrist. It has a few beads, which he realises represent the colours of the solar system.
“Keep that for good luck.” You pat it gently after securing it. “I think you just had a bad day; those don’t last very long. Do you want to charge your phone before you leave?”
“Uh-” The bracelet’s pretty, the colours shine against the dark vibranium. “-no, I’m good. I’ll just leave.”
“Okay. Anything else I can help you with or will you be fine?”
He narrows his eyes. “You’re being suspiciously nice.”
“I’m not evil all the time.” You huff. “My hours are in the morning.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
“Okay,” he says again. “I’m gonna go then.”
“See you next week.” You give him a little wave. “I’d say break a leg on your mission but knowing your situation...”
He scoffs. “Thanks.”
You make a move to close the door when starts walking down the hallway towards the exit.
He adjusts the beads slightly so he can see them better. The Earth one has glitter in it. He thinks it’s cute.
“Bucky.”
He turns around.
There’s a hint of a smile on your face.
“Take the stairs.”
He doesn’t have to be told twice.
Next part
946 notes · View notes
sindumpster · 2 years
Note
Not sure if this idea was shared by someone else already but I just got this idea of Jake taking on a more traditional dragon hobby-- having a hoard. Only maybe in this case he's not just compelled to collect treasures, but also compelled to EAT them. Or maybe he swallows them to hide them before he adds them to his collection later. And of course they're indigestible so they just end up giving him massive indigestion and bloating and generally making his life a living hell.
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Okay but anon, you really aren’t that far off from actual canon (along with this A+ scenario). So major props to you there lol
Cuz as it turns out, snide boi is not lying about having a hoard. And he does eat his treasures. Just not in the traditional sense. Boi has some really funky anatomy to pull it off.
Also anyone who remembers the secret TARDIS bean organ gets a senior discount.
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Anyways, barring all the weirdass organ placement and other modifications Jake’s got going on there, he also has a crop. Which is this small little storage organ most dragons have, and located somewhere in the lower chest. Usually it’s used to temporarily carry small odds and ends (like new trinkets for a hoard) or food for derg babies. This organ is small though. Like even in their true form it has a pretty limited capacity, and definitely not enough space to carry an entire dragon hoard.
Unless you happen to be Jake.
For mysterious reasons, the derg has a weird shrinky dimensional spell cast upon his crop, and it basically functions like a hammerspace. This is where he keeps the entirely of his hoard. Because whynot.
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Also not pictured is all the shiny garbage he also collects, but I am too lazy to paint.
Anyways, Jake sends things down there the way you would expect. But he usually keeps his reasons (and his hoard/crop in general) a secret, so to onlookers it just appears as yet another manifestation of his oral fixation. At best you might hear a weird clicking sound as he swallows, signaling he’s doing something a little different from just eating it, but he does try his best to be discrete about it.
Granted assuming it’s tied to his oral fixation isn’t...complexly inaccurate, but it does have practical reasons too. Jake doesn’t have a permanent place he can store his hoard, and he tends to change locations every few years. It’s also a weirdly effective defense against thieves—after all, it’s not exactly safe to go shoving your hands down his throat to reach it, especially when you could “slip” and end up in the more dangerous neighboring organ. Plus it’s slimy and gross lol
Though this can absolutely backfire on Jake too. He’s not immune to these “slippings”, since his crop and primary stomach share the same pipe. Jake has to actively focus in order to reroute something to his crop, so accidents like this happen more often then he would like to admit.
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Usually he’s pretty quick to cough up these “accidents”. But every so often boi finds himself in a situation where he has to keep it inside longer than he should, or it’s something larger that gets stuck. Which...only makes it worse when such things don’t agree with his stomach, the result being a very bloated and unhappy derg :B
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verdantmoontruther · 3 years
Text
d’you know the more i think about this scene
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the less i consider it to be a hypocritical move on tobirama’s part.
when people complain about this action being hypocritical or nepotistic or whatnot, they usually rest on these words as their explanation (also, please excuse my circling, i did this on a laptop):
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[the circled text reads: “we’re going to settle things democratically from now on...”]
and this part of the same scene that comes right before the one above:
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[the circled text reads: “to propose Madara for leader candidate is one thing. but the final decision should rest on the popular opinion of both the land of fire and our village, along with discourse with senior members!”]
i understand completely where this point of view comes from. tobirama clearly states that decisions from now on should be made
a) with input from the rest of the land of fire b) with input from the rest of the shinobi forces c) with input from senior members, ie the daimyo and his advisors and high ranking shinobi/elders within konoha herself
and then, what we can imagine is several decades later, when he is reigning hokage, he rescinds this idea of democracy that he clung to during the founding in favour of choosing a leader himself, without first consulting the civilians, the shinobi forces, the daimyo, or the council of the village. it’s corrupt, it’s tyrannical, it’s despotic -
but is it?
at this point we don’t know whether or not the rules proposed by tobirama were ever even implemented. there’s every chance that he, hashirama, madara, and any other prominent figures completely discounted the idea of a democracy anyways. take a look at this picture:
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[the circled text reads: “and then, i’ll name you second hokage...” “i suspect tobirama will become hokage after you.”]
if they had a democratic system in place, why would hashirama say that? of course, you could argue corruption, but it seems a bit early into the naissance of the village for the post to already be corrupt. and notice the word used in the translation: hashirama says he’ll name madara hokage; not make, name. that implies that hashirama wouldn’t have to jump through any hoops for madara to become hokage: he’ll just name him as such, and that’s what he’ll be.
furthermore, remember that the public were never consulted on either tsunade’s appointment, where, in fact, the daimyo and village elders decided on jiraiya:
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[the circled text reads: “and so yesterday, in an emergency meeting with the ruler of the land of fire... jiraiya...”]
nor on danzo’s appointment following pein’s attack and tsunade’s coma:
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in both these instances, it seems as if the appointments for hokage are decided on a rather small scale; the only people that are involved are the daimyo, his advisors, and konoha shinobi holding an executive position (hence jounin commander shikaku’s and elder councilman danzo’s presences at the nominations).
this is very important because it establishes, unequivocally, that tobirama’s pleas for a full democracy were not afforded. the hokage of the land of fire is not decided on democratically, but rather decided on from a series of nominees by the daimyo and the village council.
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small side note: i’m actually going to have to, however shamefully, agree with this method of election. while i believe in complete suffrage for adults in the real world, and extending the decision-making process to the shinobi forces in the narutoverse, involving all of the citizens of the land of fire would have been not simply an incredibly liberal reform to implement in such a short space of time, considering daimyos in medieval japan were feudal lords and thus did have full power, but also very unnecessary. no country in the world asks their citizens to vote for their military commanders, and in the case of the shinobi system, where we understand the hidden villages to be quite self-sufficient and closed-off, it would be redundant and a waste of time, energy, and manpower to go around asking people that know nothing about the candidates which one they would pick. it’s like asking teachers to vote for who should be the next CEO of BMW. i suspect that tobirama’s ideas of consulting the populace exists on a purely advisory level.
so now we’ve answered one question - konoha is not democratic, so there’s no way for tobirama to be going against the fundaments of konohan ideology by appointing hiruzen himself.
however, as far as we know, he didn’t consult his council members or the daimyo. how do we rationalise that?
well, there’s two answers to this - one shorter, one longer.
the shorter answer is that tobirama did discuss this with the senior council, but it happened before he and his little squad of murder teens went out onto the front lines. perhaps he suspected that his chances of survival were limited and wanted to get it done beforehand - perhaps it was almost like a last will and testament, that he and the others had decided on the next hokage before he left just in case something happened, so as to not thrust the village into panic and restlessness like what happened after the konoha crush and the death of the third.
but the shorter answer is boring, so i give you the more interesting, more complex, and in-world believable long answer -
they’re under wartime policy, and tobirama has ultimate power.
some of you are not going to like to hear this because you live in 2021 in the west and the idea of anyone having ultimate power instantly draws a negative reaction (understandable and relatable), but you have to understand that konoha, as well as the other shinobi villages, are not built the way modern nations and cities are built. they are, first and foremost, stratocracies: military powers with military commanders at the helm. their electoral and legislative systems aren’t built the way our are because they don’t need to be - they are the armed forces of whatever country they belong to, and what they look for is strength from their leaders and deference from their workers.
but not only that - what matters in this instance is that they are at the height of warfare. it’s the second shinobi war, and they don’t have time to waste on arguing about decisions. just like how presidents and prime ministers around the world are able to claim emergency power during an invasion or other moment of political or military upheaval in order to veto decisions made by the other branches of government, so too can tobirama. i imagine that this is something almost non-negotiable - this is war, we don’t have time, the hokage’s word is law.
so there you go. that’s what i think. peace
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