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#this one’s from the 90s I think and missing the test set
ivan-fyodorovich-k · 4 months
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Inert Claymore mine
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4beomy · 2 years
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★ small talk, big talk | c.bg
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synopsis: in which you beg for your annoying seatmate to shut up for just one class. wc: 2.2k genre: fluff, drabble
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You were never the one to not be able to focus in a class. There wasn’t a day where you slept during a lesson—okay maybe you’re selling yourself a bit too much— but still, the point stands, you were always focused, prepared whenever a teacher would think it was a good idea to randomly call on you. And frankly, you prided yourself on that.
Until you were doomed. Your math teacher had snapped one day and from the heat of the moment, decided to assign seats again. You groaned—finding her reaction to be an over exaggeration, but nevertheless, you pulled yourself out of your old seat and stood with the rest of your classmates waiting for your name to be called.
“Y/N. You’re here.” you looked at the desk she was pointing at and immediately, you fought the urge to audibly whine. She chose a back table, way too far from the board—way too far for you to actually be able to read whatever she writes on there. Before you could try and remind her that you asked in the beginning of the trimester to be seated in the front due to your embarrassingly poor eyesight—she calls out another name.
“Beomgyu, you’re next to her.”
You’re doomed.
“Miss, I—” you get cut off with your teachers stern voice. “Don’t test me today. Go to your seat Y/N.”
Before you could respond, she had already moved on with calling other people’s names. You just had to suck it up and walk over to your new desk—And bare your new deskmate. It wouldn’t be for too long anyway, you’d talk to her later and convince her to change your seat.
“Introduce yourselves to your new neighbors. By the time I’m done trying to open the slideshow, you should have exchanged the basics.” your teacher instructed.
When you settled your bag on the floor next to your leg, you could see from your peripheral vision that Beomgyu was looking at you. Hesitantly, you glance at him— his head was completely turned to a 90 degree angle tilt, literally staring at you.
“Hey.” he beamed when you finally noticed him, a grin so big you were sure you transformed into a winning lottery ticket for a second.
You didn’t know it was possible for your face to falter, or for the corner of your lips to fall, even when they weren’t up to begin with, but it happened. Because a realization set on you. Beomgyu, the officially certified class disturbance, was going to be sitting next to you. You were in the comfort of your previous seat, being able to roll your eyes everytime he decided to open his mouth—to either make a stupid joke or ask the most idiotic question—and now, that was gone. You were in the comfort of your previous seat, not having to have him close enough for you get a migraine, and now thats gone too.
You exhaled managing to put a weak smile on your face—one that trembled, “Hi.”
Your plan was simple. To just sit, and listen, like you’ve always done until you could go up to your teacher and ask for a seat change.
But that didn’t happen. Not the seat change, not the listening.
“You’ve been seeing just fine the past couple of weeks Y/N. All of a sudden when there’s a seat change, you can’t see?” it was a week after the seats were assigned, and you finally decided to request a seating change. It was torture to put things simply. It was like your ears only picked up Beomgyu’s sound waves and you were very, very close to pulling out your hair—officially declaring your insanity. When you saw her eyebrows raised, questioning the motive behind your request, you internally panic at the thought that she might refuse to change your seat.
“It’s not all of a sudden! I told you about it before when you asked us what seats we prefered! I swear I can’t see the board from where I am right now.”
She sighed, choosing to study you for a minute, then finally saying “Hun, Beomgyu isn’t that bad. You can live sitting with someone new, yea?”
So. That ultimately failed.
New plan. Ignoring your seatmate till the trimester ends and hoping for the best.
“You know, I totally like ice cream. But I don’t like the sweet flavored ones, you know? I mean like, the really really sweet ones. I hate cookies n' cream ice cream. But then—”
It was the daily rambles from Beomgyu, how great. Thankfully, your brain had finally learned to filter out his voice faster. But seriously, was he insane? Who was he talking to and who was listening? Because it was definitely not you.
“Y/N, what about you?”
Your thoughts come to a stop, your brain, for some reason, not filtering out his voice when he decides to call your name.
You would’ve asked what exactly he was talking about, but then, you did have some compassion left in you and you kind of didn’t want him to know that he was talking to the molecules in the air instead of you.
So, you settle for a general response. “Yeah, I totally dooont—” you narrow your eyes at the way he his eyes turned a little sad so you immediately switch it up, “I’m toootally a big fan...?”
You think you said the right thing because a contrast to his sulky face a few seconds ago, a toothy grin spreads on his face, “A big fan? Definitely not bigger than me.”
You let out an awkward chuckle, “Yeah..it’s my favorite” you say the second part quietly, not having the energy to put effort into the white lie.
The minute you hear your teacher coming in the classroom you pull out your notebook. You shoved your hand into your bag, trying to fish out a writing utensil, you get a bit frantic, confused on why you can’t find anything.
You came unprepared.
“Need a pencil?” you hear, then turn your head to the direction of your deskmate. You sighed, nodding. ”Alright, wait a second.”
You expected anything but him getting up, walking to some random student’s table.
You just wanted to run away out of embarrassment when the teacher stopped her lecture, arms crossed, tapping her foot over and over again impatient at Beomgyu’s disturbance.
He seemed tame —-and with what you could make from the small gaps of your fingers that were subtly over your face, he had a smile on. He walked towards you again, a cartoonish, accomplished smile on his face, and a pencil in his hand.
You swallowed the lump in your throat when the teacher gave you a disapproving look, for some reason, and finally continued the lesson.
“Here.” he puts the pencil conveniently on your notebook. But you side eye him, kind of annoyed that he caused such an awkward scene. “Why?” it was barely audible but he catches on, and his eyes look at you again.
“Hm? Oh—oh, it’s because Soobin’s like.. known for having really good pencils.”
“What?”
“Well not good pencils more like—”
“Mind sharing what you guys are whispering about to the class?” your teacher announced, the smile on her face showing the exact opposite of happiness. It was obvious it was directed to you guys because the whole class turns to stare, some rolling their eyes and others snickering.
Beomgyu shook his head quickly. “Sorry Miss.”
“Focus.” she warned and you both nod. When she turned to the board to write again, Beomgyu leaned sideways closer to you.
"It's more like.. Soobin wouldn't mind if you borrow and never give it back." he whispered. "And it would probably be a safer bet to like..take a pencil from him, you know?" he added.
You don't look at him, eyes glued to the board. "We should focus."
"Oh—oh, yeah." he moved away, the childish energy dimming.
You didn't say it but you did find it slightly endearing that he tried to make logic of walking across the classroom to get a pencil for you. Just slightly.
When the next day rolls around and he's talking about his favorite Taylor Swift song for the thirtieth time this month, you're oddly more focused on what he had to say. Even if his opinions were completely invalid.
"I'm telling you, Evermore is objectively the worst Taylor Swift album. Folklore was better by miles."
You narrowed your eyes at him, an unbelievable smile on your face, not believing someone could have such a bad take. Before you could start an argument with him, your teacher had slipped your graded test on your desk—no one noticed, but you did. Even when the paper was faced down, not actually being able to confirm your grade—you could hear her disappointed sigh, and it gave you the hint that you didn't do well.
"Also, the weather has been so bad these days. But even then, I'm just like...it's definitely better than sweaty armpits and bugs everywhere."
You don't focus on what he's telling you, your brain doing its best to filter out his voice as you stare blankly at the paper. You should turn it around and see what you got. It can't be that bad. Maybe not your best, but not that bad. Right?
Like ripping a bandaid, you slammed the paper around. And it dawned on you— the big, fat F.
Which did not stand for fantastic.
You could've used your deduction skills for a second and narrowed down why you did so bad— maybe because you were so busy laughing randomly whenever something that Beomgyu said pops up in your mind ...that you didn't study, maybe—maybe because whenever he would focus on the board, you could steal glances at his side profile, one that you found so genuinely beautiful— no, maybe because you haven't been focusing on your assignments lately...
No, it was Beomgyu. He successfully managed to distract you. Was he happy? Judging by the way you see him still talking, with the prettiest smile you've grown to warm up to very quickly, he is. You don't care if your irrational blaming was irrational. You don't care if you're wrong, your anger was still directed at him. Increasingly by the minute getting more and more annoyed the more you see his mouth move.
"I forgot to ask, but what's your favorite color—"
"Can you shut up?!" accidentally, your voice was way louder than you intended and immediately you're feeling regret when your eyes meet your teachers'. You apologize non verbally, showing the most apologetic face you could make but she was clearly not having it. You're doomed.
"Out. With your bags. Both of you."
Anger overrides the previous emotion, and you flare your nose, hastily carrying the shoulder straps of your bag, storming out. Beomgyu followed behind with his bag hanging on his shoulder, jogging to catch up with you.
He closed the classroom's door behind him, mirroring the way you were leaning on a wall, your leg stretched out in front of you.
"You okay?"
You shot him a glance, confused on why he would ask you that—especially when you basically just embarrassed him.
"Beomgyu—why...Why are you asking that?" your anger had basically dissipated, regret once again finding its way in the pit of your stomach remembering the way you yelled at him.
"Because I don't think you are... I just wanna hear it from you." for the first time, he doesn't look at you while talking, just held his stare at his feet.
"I mean—it was just..." you stopped because to you, it wasn't just a bad grade. It was a bad grade and you were disappointed. Extremely, to the point you had to act like a complete baby with such an outburst. "I failed the test. And then got angry for some reaso—look, I'm sorry I don't know why I yelled at you. It was just the heat of the moment and—"
You didn't notice that Beomgyu had zipped open his bag, taking something out until he offered you a long brown, paper bag.
You hesitantly accepted it, confused on what was happening.
The bag was hot, which makes you even curious so you take a peek of the inside.
Churros?
"I was gonna give it to you after class ended. Also, don't worry, it's completely fresh. My dad got it out of the oven right when I was heading to schoo—"
"How ...how did you know that I liked Churros? Like ...they're my favorite?!" you were semi scared, confused but still really, really happy at the warm cinnamon smell that made you crave shoving the churros down your throat.
Beomgyu gasps, looking at you with wide eyes. "You literally told me yesterday."
You furrowed your eyebrows—until, ah. He was talking about Churros that time? Thank god you were smart enough to read his facial expressions.
You bite your bottom lip slightly trying to hide your smile, looking down at the paper bag. He went out of his way to get you something that you said you liked.
"Thank you." you smile. And in return, he smiles too. Not the over the top grin, it was a heartwarming smile that was more than genuine. He smiled because he was genuinely happy at seeing you happy, not because he's just a person who naturally smiles all the time.
"Give me half, yeah?" he teased.
"Piss off Beomgyu."
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a/n: apology drabble for the delay of nbm. u guys deserve this (non proofread) beomgyu fluff. i'm up for part 2 one day bcs i think this is still a bit platonic lol
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widowwaddles · 1 year
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Operation 90 Day (Undercover) Fiancé
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Summary: What started as a month-long trip for work, ended with your heart stolen by a certain red-head. But are things really as they seem?
A/N: What started as with me watching the latest episode of 90 Day Fiancé, morphed into this weird love child between Mr and Mrs. Smith and 90 Day Fiancé (aka peak television). The summary is a bit developed, because I didn't want to spoil anything. This started as a one shot, but has the potential to become a series.
Warning: references smut, but nothing in detail
Word count: 2925
Edit for mobile users: I think there is a glitch where some of the last couple of sentences are disappearing, you can read it fully on AO3
Part 2
__
Your heart races as you navigate through the airport. Your palms start to sweat from how nervous you were. It’s been a few months, but you weren’t prepared for all the emotions you’d feel once you saw her face again. Despite trying to keep a cool exterior, a part of you missed her dearly. You never thought that you’d feel this way about someone you hadn’t known for long, but it seems like the impossible became your new reality. You weren’t too sure how things would go, now since the dynamic has completely shifted, but you couldn’t help but smile in excitement. This was going to be one of the biggest tests of your life.
-
3 Months Earlier 
St. Petersburg, Russia
It was love at first sight, - though considering the current setting - many would call it lust.
You aren’t too sure what attracted you to this bar, especially since you weren’t too familiar with the area. You’ve been in St. Petersburg for about a month on a work assignment. Since arriving, you’ve been completely consumed by your work so you haven’t spent much time outside of your apartment - if it wasn’t for work. Now that you’ve completed your assignment, you were ready to finally explore the city during your last days here. You were ready to let loose and this bar seemed like the perfect place to do so.
черный лебедь, or The Black Swan was a bar like no other. The staff wore black masquerade masks, while guests were given white. After securing the mask on your face, you went straight to the bar. Even though you were done working, you had no plans of getting wasted tonight. You just needed something to take the edge off.
The bar was fairly empty, with most people on the dance floor.  Taking a vacant seat, you called over the bartender and ordered your drink. You could feel eyes tracking your every moment from behind you. You ignored it, believing whoever it was would lose interest if you didn’t give them any attention. The bartender returns with your drink, you smile back before thanking them in Russian.
As you go to sip your drink, you feel a sudden presence in the chair beside you. ‘Someone can’t take a hint’, you brought the glass to your lips, face blank as you continued to stare forward. You weren’t going to give this person the reaction they wanted.
Your annoyance started to grow as you heard a heavy sigh.
“I’m starting to think that you’re ignoring me, darling” the strong Russian accent rang through your ears. “I promise that I don’t bite…unless you want me to”.
You froze. A blush immediately floods your face and your heart rate increases.  A hand gently grasps your wrist. Tilting your head down, you look at the hand. Your eyes slowly move up the hand, as if following a trail, leading to her arm, and shoulder until you eventually settle on her face. She has an elegant black mask on. Green eyes pierce through yours, the gaze strong, unlike yours - pupils shifting quickly. Desperately wanting to escape from the intense staring match you found yourself in, you took in her other features.
Catching your attention first was her red hair, which pooled at her shoulders. Your eyes lower down until you abruptly stop, diverting them back to your drink - cheeks red. The dress she was in was leaving little to the imagination, but you know you’d have no shame in looking had she not been so close.
“It looks like I have your attention now,” she says jokingly, lips smirking.
You take a deep breath and then turn towards her.
“Can I help you with something?” you ask cooly, clearing your face of any emotions.
She raises an eyebrow, seeing through your facade.
“I’m just looking for good company” lifting an elbow on the top of the bar, and leaning her head against it. “I saw you as you walked in. You stood out immediately, you don’t look like our usual patrons”
“So, this is how you usually greet new customers?” you reply snarkily. “And here I was thinking I was special”
She doesn’t reply but flashes you a smirk, showing that she was secretly enjoying your hard-to-get attitude.
She leans in close to your face, and your eyes close in surprise, thinking she was going in for a kiss. Her lips ghost over yours, before moving to your ear.
“Oh Darling, but you are special” she whispers, your breath hitching the moment you felt her hot breath. “If you don’t believe me… I could always show you” her voice rasps as she pulls away.
And that’s all it took for you to crash your lips against hers. Hands gripping her face, you pull her further into you, afraid she’d disappear. You felt a strong grip on your hips and when she reciprocated the kiss with just as much intensity you knew this was real.
You don’t remember how you got back to your apartment or how long you two went at it, but you felt all of the energy leave your body after having your final high.
The sun shining brightly into your eyes was the first thing to greet you the next day. You groaned before grabbing your covers and pulling them over your head. The lack of resistance from the other side of the bed confirmed your suspicions.
She left.
You weren’t too upset about it though. This wasn’t your first one-night stand and the signs were all there last night. You knew what she wanted the minute she approached you and it wasn’t a relationship. She may have rocked your world but you didn’t know anything about her, hell you didn’t even exchange names.
And maybe it should stay that way. Technically, you do know where she works but something about just showing up there reeks of desperation. No, you definitely won’t do that. It’s time to move on, plus it won’t be long before you can return back home to New York. Smiling, you rise from your bed, deciding it’s time to cleanse yourself from the sins you committed just hours ago. Gathering some clothes to wear today, you find a foreign object in your dresser.
A sticky note.
I’d like to see you again
Call me  xxx-xxx-xxxx
-Natasha
Looking back now, you wish you would have thrown the paper out. Calling that number had opened Pandora’s box -  you never guessed that things would go so wrong. She should have stayed as a one-night stand.
-
You didn’t know what to expect if you reached out.
Even from your conversation last night, this so-called “Natasha” didn’t seem like the type to typically do this. Anyone with eyes would agree that she was gorgeous, so you couldn’t help but feel giddy at the thought that you managed to somehow capture her attention.
On the other hand, you felt wary. You had less than two weeks left before you had to return home, so starting a relationship (romantic or sexual) would only make it harder to leave. But then again, how often does this sort of thing happen to you? Less than 1% of the time. Plus if it ends horribly, you couldn’t be too hung up about it because the chances of seeing her again were also less than 1%. You had no plans of ever coming back here again.
Making your decision, you dialed her number and hoped you weren’t making a mistake. Her voice rings out unexpectedly before the first ring could even finish. It was as if she instantly knew that you would be calling now. Before you could question things any further, she asks you out to lunch and you accept. She said she’ll pick you up from your place before hanging up.
It only took you an hour to get ready, most of that time spent ransacking your closet until you found the perfect outfit. You were looking yourself over in the mirror when a knock interrupted your train of thought.
Opening the door, you realized this would be the first time you’d be seeing Natasha face to face clearly…unless she decided her mask would be the perfect lunch attire.
It must have been awkward for her to see you stare so unabashedly, but you didn’t care - you were stunned. She offered a shy smile as her cheeks reddened slightly. This did NOT seem like the same woman you met last night, the seductress. The woman standing in front of you now seemed more human and genuine. Like she actually had emotions outside of lust. And it would be an understatement to say that you were digging it. As much as you did enjoy sleeping with her, you didn’t want to spend all of your remaining time here, in the bedroom.
“Are you ready to go, Y/n?” Natasha asks, looking into your eyes sweetly.
“Yes,” you reply, smiling. Closing your door, you turn back to her - offering your arm. She eagerly takes it before leading you out of the building and onto the streets.
You had no idea where you were going, but you enjoyed the scenery along the way. Natasha has started a lively conversation where you began learning the basics about each other’s lives.
Natasha was in her mid-20s. She studied classical ballet in school and was on track to becoming a professional ballerina when she got injured. Not having any clue what to do next with her life, she stumbled upon the Black Swan and has been working there ever since. You told her how you’re here for work, and not wanting to go too in-depth you steered the topic to your life back in New York. You had gone to school to study psychology, in hopes of being a therapist. After getting your degree, you quickly realized this wasn’t the career field for you. Since then you’ve just been working contract jobs, which allows you to travel and make a good living. You gushed about your cozy apartment and the newest member of your family, Theodore. You rescued him while on a previous job and he’s been the only stable part of your world since then.
You didn’t even notice that you arrived at the restaurant until Natasha stopped walking abruptly. You turned back to her,  a confused look on your face.
“We’re here” she smiles, pointing at the entrance.
And so, the best first date you’ve ever been on had officially started and ended before you even knew it. Natasha walked you back to your apartment, holding your hand this time. As you reached the door, you started to get nervous. Should you invite her in? You weren’t ready to say goodbye yet. You grabbed your keys from out of your pocket and unlocked your door. Taking a deep breath you turned back to face Natasha and grabbed both her hands.
“I had a lot of fun today” looking in her eyes and gently squeezing her hands before continuing. “I was a bit surprised to hear that you wanted to see me again, so I was a bit nervous about your true intentions in hanging out today.” She averted her eyes slightly and bit her lip, as if understanding why you would be hesitant.
“But this has gone better than I could have ever imagined” you admit, drawing her attention back to your eyes. “Thank you, Natasha”
Her eyes shined back brightly as if no one had ever thanked her before. Her eyes shifted to your lips and you both started leaning slowly as if being attracted by magnets. Your lips met softly, this kiss having a much different feeling from the ones you shared yesterday. Your hands found her hips while hers wrapped around your neck. Holding on to each other now, not out of lust, but out of pure tenderness. You realized now, that inviting her in would completely ruin the moment you were having. Pulling away and resting your head against hers, you were okay with how your date has ended.
Closing your door, you rested your forehead against the cold surface and shut your eyes. Your lips curled up, cheeks beginning to hurt from how hard you were smiling. You were in deep but you couldn’t help but laugh about it. You wouldn’t want it any other way.
-
You look out the window somberly, as familiar scenery flits out of sight. You were back home in New York.
Just weeks ago you were counting down the days until you returned and now you couldn’t stop the aching pain in your heart. You miss her…so much. You didn’t think that saying goodbye to her would have been so hard, but the moment you saw the unsure tears in her eyes, you broke down.
After the date, you spent all of your remaining days with her. When you revealed just how soon your final days were approaching, she decided that you would spend time making good memories together. Dates were every day and slowly increased in quantity over time, wanting to cram in as many activities as you could. On the final night, you decided to just stay in and hold each other. She had already come over earlier that day to help you pack, so now you were imprinting your bodies into each other. No tears were shed, not wanting your final night to be filled with sadness. As you kissed, the passion communicated the words you desperately wished to say: “I don’t want to leave you. Don’t forget about me. I love you”
Boarding your plane the next day, you think of the promises you made. She said the distance didn’t mean the end of the relationship and if it was meant to be then you’d find your way back together somehow. You promised to not give up on each other just yet, as you tearfully sealed your pledge to each other with the final kiss.
-
Sending her a text saying you’ve arrived back safely home. You exited the car and entered the building of your work. You haven’t even had a chance to go home yet, as the meeting to discuss what you’ve accomplished in Russia was urgent. Sighing, you sat in the conference.
The door slams open, and your body jumps up straight in surprise. Heavy footsteps enter the room before a Manila folder is slammed on the table in front of you.
“Agent L/n, you’ve been compromised” as you open the folder your breaths become heavy, and your vision clouds. No, this couldn’t be right. Your eyes flit through the folder, hands flipping through the papers quickly. As your worst nightmare became confirmed, you shut your eyes. Knowing you’d break down if you looked at the contents of the folder again.
“We have a plan, but it’ll require your cooperation. Just think of it as an extended undercover operation” the man says gruffly. Bringing your head up, you look the man in the eye before agreeing.
“I’ll do it, Director Fury. No matter what it takes” you say, voice strong with conviction.
Wiping your eyes, you stand up aggressively - the chair flying back,  before leaving the room. The pain in your chest leaves your body shaking, but you ignore it. Never again will you show weakness.
Back in the conference room, Director Fury gathers the folder and the papers you had vigorously gone through. He grabs the photo, slotting it in front of the folder once more before smirking. The Red Room was always a thorn in Shields' side and now he had the perfect plan to take them down. He couldn’t help but thank the person who discovered your true identity.
-
Present  
And now here you are, at the airport, awaiting the arrival of the love of your life. Your body perks up as you see the passengers who’ve unboarded the plane flooding through the gate. It wasn’t hard to spot her, as if sensing your eyes, she looks up and smiles brightly.
You both take off sprinting toward each other before jumping into each other’s arms. You spin in circles before peppering her face with kisses. She giggles, pushing you away slightly before bringing your lips to where they were desperately needed. Pulling away, you grabbed her hands and kissed them. You noticed the engagement ring on her finger and smiled brightly, kissing her hand once more.
Letting her go entirely, you grab her luggage.
“Are you ready to see your humble abode? I know Theo is gonna be excited to finally meet you” you say playfully, extending your free hand to her.
“Yes, I can’t wait to meet my future son,” she says excitedly, grabbing your hand and practically dragging you through the exit of the building.
Your face falters slightly, but she’s too distracted navigating through the busy airport to notice.
“Our 90 days officially begin now,” you say, quickly putting a smile back on your face.
“Yes, it does. Though I don’t think I will be needing the full 90 to know that I want to marry you” she says sweetly, eyes shining brilliantly as she flashes a smile back at you.
And you almost believe it.
You sigh to yourself internally before shaking your head. You can’t let yourself get distracted. Your heart became cold the minute you found out the truth. You can’t fall for the same tricks again.
You only have to fake for 90 days. Then you’d be able to exact revenge against the woman that broke your heart and take down the Red Room in the process.
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gojo-inabox · 2 years
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philosophy (𝘮𝘰𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘯 𝘢𝘶!𝘻𝘦𝘬𝘦 𝘫𝘢𝘦𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘹 𝘧!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳)
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You loved hanging out with your friends, but what happens when your friend Eren Jaeger starts bringing around his studious, charming older brother?
Word Count: 5289 words
Warnings: Alcohol consumption/getting drunk, getting high, partying, suggestive NSFW comments (minors dni), Zeke being Zeke, let me know if I missed any warnings.
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You absolutely loved your friend group.
The second a giggling Connie and Sasha approached you in your college library asking you if you wanted to help prank your ‘Intro to Physics’ professor for kicking out their friend Eren, you absolutely fell in love with your friends.
They were a diverse group of people with a very interesting dynamic, but they cared. A lot. They were like family, every laugh was from the heart, every smile was genuine, and every goodbye was very temporary. You could forget about all of your troubles with your friends, whether that be going on spontaneous vacations or getting absolutely blasted at one of your houses, it was all perfect.
That is, until Eren decided to bring him along.
Some people, like Mikasa and Armin, had already met the tall, blonde charmer, but up until he began tagging along to your beach trips and smoke seshes, he was like a ghost - no one talked about him or acknowledged him. And it seemed anyone else in the group who had met him didn’t really care to comment.
“So you have an older brother, Eren?” Sasha asked, passing the joint over to Connie, who was nearly half passed out. The room was dim with a purple haze, thanks to Erens mood lighting, and reeked of weed. Your friend group lounged around, on the various pieces of furniture, smoking your weekend away. Eren simply nodded, taking a swig of his drink.
Armin snatched the drink out of Erens hands, rolling his eyes, “Zeke, his half brother. He’s kind of a prick, but hey, so is Eren to be honest.”
“Hey! I am not!” Eren retaliated, pushing Armin off the couch, laughing. “He’s way more of an ass than me. He’s annoying, but he’s family, and he’s cool. I’m sure you’d all like him, his sarcasm and all.”
“You two really must be related huh,” You laughed, taking the blunt connie absentmindedly handed over and walking over to sit next to Jean on the couch opposite of Eren, Mikasa and Armin, “I don’t think I’ve seen him before, definitely haven’t met him. I feel like I’d know.”
Jean snorted, “You don’t wanna meet him.” Eren stared him down, daggers shooting out of his eyes.
“You met him ONCE Jean.” Eren protested, snatching his precious alcoholic beverage back from Armin, “He didn’t even talk to you either!”
“He looked at me weird.” Jean huffed, snatching the blunt from you.
Eren rolled his eyes and turned to you, expression shifting, “I swear he’s cool, he’s definitely a personality but he’s cool. The guys got more one night stands than all of us combined, but that’s cus’ all he cares about is school. He’s only committed to his studies I guess.”
“Gross.” You snorted.
“Hey, he’s cool!” He retaliated, trying to defend his brother.
From that night on, you didn’t think about Zeke whatsoever. Knowing of his existence was merely a piece of information you had gained.
He was a man in your mind who only had a name. You knew not of his face, his features, his personality, his voice, and you didn’t care.
A few weeks went by, that was until Connie had texted you asking if you wanted to study for your ‘Intro to Philosophy’ midterms in the library on the next Wednesday. Despite knowing that the study sesh would most likely be 90% goofing off and 10% actually retaining information, as were the past 3 study seshs, you obliged.
The days went by and Wednesday finally rolled along, and you found yourself late to the library study sesh. Pulling an all-nighter had resulted in a rather solid nap halfway through the day, leaving your friends spamming your phone for your arrival.
With your mind set on finally passing a philosophy test, you got ready and grabbed your bag, making your way out of your apartment and to the aforementioned library.
Entering the library, you beelined it towards the usual table you all sat at, hidden in the back far away from students actually trying to study. As your footsteps quietly approached the back, you noticed a lack of sound the closer you got to the table. Which, of course, is normal in a library, but with Connie and Sasha supposedly being there, you might have well assumed they died.
Turning the corner, the table was in your sights, smiling, you waved at them. Several blank stares lit up at your arrival, “(Y/N)! Finally, honestly we kinda thought maybe your bed consumed you.” Sasha commented, getting up and hugging you.
Your eyes scanned the table, taking a mental roll call, Eren, Jean, Connie and Sasha, but landing dead on a foreign body sitting next to Eren, “(Y/N), this is my brother, Zeke!”
Zeke looked up from the book he had been taking notes in, glancing up at you for a moment, his eyes wandered, scanning you up and down, hesitant to look away. He leaned back and reconnected his eyes with yours, folding his arms over his chest.
There was no formal, not even casual greeting, Zeke just looked you over, nodding to the empty seat next to himself. “So you’re the late one?”
“Well hello to you too, Jaeger senior.” Rolling your eyes, you sling your bag on the back of the chair, sitting down hesitantly.
“Oof. Ouch, I don’t look that old.” Zeke chuckled, picking his pen back up and shifting his attention away from you and back to the book he was writing in. Your eyes automatically rolled.
“So (Y/N), Zeke‘s a senior and he’s majoring in philosophy so I thought he could come along and help us study.” Eren explained, pity smiling as you glanced between him and his brother.
“Yeah so we don’t fail a test for once.” Jean commented, rolling his eyes, twirling his pencil around, leaning back in his chair.
“Hey I’m not failing them, I just don’t want anymore 70’s.”. Sasha inputted, smacking the pencil out of Jean's hand, causing him to almost bust his ass on the rough, gross library carpet.
Jean yelped in protest, immediately smacking his hand against his mouth, eyes darting around, internally praying the librarians wouldn’t kick them out.
Zeke audibly sighed and shifted his eyes to you, imploring “So do they always act like this?”
“Yeah, but I’m sure you’ll fit right in.” He did nothing but chuckle, glancing you up and down again.
Now that you had actually taken a moment to look at him up close, you began taking mental note of his features. He only vaguely resembled Eren, though you could definitely tell the two were related one way or another.
His frame was much larger than yours, he must have been a good 6 feet or more. He had pale blonde hair that was parted in the middle, mildly grown out at the top, with a thicker, short cut beard to match. His hair looked soft, you thought. His face was pale, but well suited with a pair of metal framed glasses, sitting on the tip of his nose. His smile was subtle.
He didn’t seem to care about what others thought of his self presentation, but he definitely enjoyed TLC and taking care of himself.
Though, for a lack of better words, he looked cozy. He smelled lightly of cigarettes, vanilla and if your nose was correct, a bit of weed.
There was no denying that the Jaeger genes were strong. Zeke was a sight to behold. You’d be ashamed to admit you weren’t mildly flustered by him.
“Do I have something on my face, (Y/N)?” Zeke commented, voice laced with sarcasm and amusement. His eyes travel to your face, watching you turn bright red.
Shifting the uncomfortable metal library chair away from him grumbling a low “No.”
“Right, I’m sure.” Rolling your eyes at him, Eren wasn’t lying, Zeke was definitely something. Though he was definitely attractive, this was someone who knew he was.
Zeke chuckled at you simply, flipping another page in the thick book he held. The cover was a crimson red, and had a goldish yellow engraving detailing something about Plato, ‘Of course, philosophy.’ You thought. Zeke chuckled, “If you have something to say about my face, say it.”
You snorted, fiddling with your pencil, “Oh whatever, I’m sure you have other girls that can feed your ego”
“Hey, I’m just saying what I see.” Zeke said, sighing, placing a bookmark in the novel sitting it on the table. His eyes were locked on your for a brief moment. The group had gone silent, drawing attention to whatever the hell Zeke was trying to accomplish. Jean and Sasha had stopped whisper fighting on the opposite side of the table, turning to Zeke and yourself.
Sasha looked baffled, well, more disgusted at this point, smacking Connie who finally looked up from his phone, confused.
Eren was bothered. He loved his brother a lot. But he knew how his brother was with relationships and girls, Zeke was scared of commitment, though he never got to know someone enough to even commit.
And to be honest, Eren didn’t care. If Zeke wasn’t searching for something permanent he couldn’t change that, then so be it, as long as the girls he was hooking up with were on the same page.
“Ew, Zeke don’t flirt with (Y/N). You’re so weird.” Jean spat out, rolling his eyes, slapping his pencil back on the table, leaning back.
Zeke narrowed his glare, and scoffed, “Who said I was, Jean?”
Jean nearly choked on his spit, God did he hate this guy. The air in the space thickened immediately, you could practically cut the air with a knife. All of your friends shifted in their seats, uncomfortably looking amongst themselves. This sucked.
Connie was facepalming, bewildered at the conversation that was unfolding, “Guys we’re supposed to be studying-“
“Then maybe Jean should watch himself, I’m sure (Y/N) is more than capable of speaking for herself.” Zeke stated, keeping eye contact with Jean, who shifted his eyes to you, slugging himself further into his seat. All Zeke did was smirk. And Eren, he stayed quiet. He didn’t wanna be overbearing.
“Whatever.” Jean shifted, getting up and leaving.
Zeke was protective, though he’d never admit it. As the relationship you and Zeke had was strictly educational; he’d show up to study sessions and you’d ask a few questions and have a discussion and that would be it. It was the parties that would fuck you up. Even though it was just your friends and yourself, the longing stares from across the room, the touches that lasted just a second too long, the sly comments that would leave you flustered and red in the face. All of that, and yet Zeke still wouldn’t interact much with you outside of studies.
You would be lying if you said you weren’t interested in whatever odd game Zeke was playing. Zeke was charming, attractive, intelligent, he tried his best to help people, and was great at many skills, he was certainly one of the more enticing people in your life.
However, he was himself after all. Slightly arrogant and egotistical, but that was only the persona he put up that you saw, and you refused to talk to Eren about Zeke, afraid he would catch wind of your little infatuation.
The tension built for months and months, yet you couldn’t seem to get rid of him for the life of you.
Not that you necessarily wanted to, though.
Later into the semester, you found yourself genuinely struggling with your philosophy class. Sasha and Connie, admittedly were not helpful, they seemed to be content with just passing grades - you weren’t. After your last assignment was less than satisfactory, help was much needed.
And you happened to know one person who was good at philosophy, Zeke.
“(Y/N), it’s midnight, why are you Facetiming me?” Eren shifted around, adjusting his eyes to his phone's light. You could see him tapping his screen rather aggressively.
You laughed briefly, propping your phone up on your desk, tapping your pen, “I’m sorry, but I know you wouldn't have answered my messages and I want an answer now.”
Eren sighed, “What did I do bro-”
“Nothing man, I was wondering if you think Zeke would be willing to help me with my philosophy shit, I’m not failing but I could be better.” Eren sighed again, you could see him rub his face.
“Can’t you ask your professor though?” Eren implored.
“I don’t like him though.” You retaliated, shifting in your seat. Eren was definitely not keen on you talking to Zeke.
“Bruh.” Is all Eren gave you as an answer, you heard shifting as he got up from his bed, and padded out of his room and down the hall. A brief knocking was heard before a door was opened, all you could see was the upper half of Eren's face. “Yo Zeke, quick question.”
“Eren it’s midnight, fuck off.” A distant, deeper voice said, it was Zeke.
“Whatever man, one of my friends needs help with philosophy stuff, can you help? You owe me man.” Eren sounded tired, you almost felt bad - if only he hadn’t woken you up at this time many times before.
Zeke sighed, “Yeah sure. Send them my number. Get out though.”
All Eren did was nod, shutting the door and padding back to his room. “You owe me now too, (Y/N).”
Zeke became a main source of your educational pursuits when it came to the humanities. You guys had a typical routine when it came to studying - The pair of you would message back and forth for a bit, then eventually give up on typing out all the fun discussions about Plato and Socrates, and settle on calling each other. Each conversation would be short, and strictly relating to your studies, calling Zeke was something that started out purely educational.
That is, until you started to call longer, getting more and more off topic.
Phones propped up on your respective desks, you could see all of each other's upper body. Zeke scanned you through Facetime, watching you hunch over and jot down something he had said. “Your posture sucks.”
Straightening your back, you giggled, “Whatever could you mean.”
“Yeah okay. I'm surprised that hunch isn’t permanent.” You fake gasped at his comment, dropping your pen and clasping your hands on your chests. “Oh yeah, act all surprised, (Y/N).”
“Whatever.” Laughing, you relaxed, picking your pen back up and writing one last thing down. Your eyes shifted to your phone screen, Zeke was in thought waiting for you to finish writing. God, he even looked like a philosopher. “So Zeke, do you have any other hobbies than studying or did you devote your life to student loans?
“I read a bit.” He simply stated, gesturing back behind himself at the large bookcase against his wall. It contained a plethora of books, all of different widths and colors.
“Is that fun reading, or are they also all about philosophy?” One thing you enjoyed about Zeke and yourself was that you could joke with each other very freely. Though most of your conversations were strictly educational, you were able to learn how to be more relaxed with each other. It made learning more fun.
Zeke rolled his eyes at you, “I think philosophy is fun.” His answer made you laugh, but all you did was give him a look, questioning and joking. “But fine, no it’s not all about philosophy. I read a lot of thriller and romance novels.”
“I’m sorry - romance?” To be honest, you were shocked. For a man who was widely considered rather ‘noncommittal’, this was odd.
It was Zeke’s turn to give you a look, his screamed annoyance, but that was always your goal. “Yes, why is that shocking.”
You leaned back in your seat, staring into the camera, “You don’t seem like a romantic guy, rather the opposite.”
“I can be.” Zeke simply stated, copying you and leaning back as well. Studying his face, you thought about how odd he was. Eren had claimed that Zeke wasn’t the best at commitment, he was rather focused on his studies, but he also exclaimed these facts like Zeke was a cold hearted romance anti. It just seemed like the guy was too focused on his studies to even meet women who he liked. He settled.
A liar is what you’d be if you didn’t acknowledge your daydreams about Zeke. Sure, you had thought about him in a romantic way before, but you knew he wasn’t very keen on relationships. It was just a silly little thought. In your life, there were many firsts that still had not yet to be encountered. A real relationship was a foreign thing to you, and when you looked at Zeke, sometimes on an off day, you imagined the firsts with him.
Your daydream would be crushed when you’d remember it probably wouldn’t mean as much to him. He’s had casual relationships, friends with benefits. That didn’t necessarily bother you, in truth it wasn’t your business, but knowing that to him it wouldn't mean as much, it felt icky.
So then you’d bury it. If you didn’t think about it, it would go away. Zeke was a man of many talents. And fucking you up in the head was one of them.
He was focused on school and he only valued relationships as a destresser from his hard work at university. Zeke was your friend anyways, it shouldn’t matter. But Zeke was already in your life, cementing his influence into your heart, your heavy heart.
The worst part is, it wasn’t even that deep. You guys had only ever flirted very briefly, only ever jokes, it was something to wave off. Zeke didn’t mean it, whatsoever, he just liked making light of your study sessions. Yet, you still were engulfed overtime, it didn’t matter. You had mistakenly fallen for his charm, but you’d never show that.
It was so bad for you, wasn’t it?
“Hey, (Y/N), are you coming to Erens tonight?” Sasha yelled at you from her room, digging through her clothes for a suitable outfit, though you knew she’d end up picking up some stuff off the floor and calling it a day.
Mikasa walked into the hall and sighed, “She’s avoiding him.” You hated her directness, she was too smart to hide feelings from. At this point, at least your closest friends knew about your situationship with Zeke.
They’d started to tease you about Zeke now, as your relationship had become a friendship and shifted away from strict education. All the times Zeke would insist on sitting next to you at get togethers, how he’d inch himself closer and closer to you every minute, how he’d lean down to talk to you, whispering in your ear sly comments.
It was apparent to your friends how strung up you were over this guy. He meant a lot, he was really the first guy that you liked that really made your heart flutter. They’d laugh at you, when you’d perk up at just the word of his name, how you’d carefully implore Eren if he’d be present at a function, how at home you’d be glued to your phone screen when texting him.
At first, it was cute.
But now you feel a little hopeless. Zeke wasn’t one to just settle down with a girl. What made you think he’d decide to choose you? Sure, he made you feel special, but who's to say he didn’t make every girl feel special? Who’s to say that this was all because Zeke was bored?
You fought yourself on that a lot, and you hated that you couldn’t let yourself be happy. “(Y/N), if something sparks between you guys and you end up dating then you do, if you don’t, you don’t.” Sasha shrugged, not seeing how ground-breaking the situation was really for you. Her eyes mindlessly wandered Mikasa's room, searching for any object to ‘borrow’ from the raven haired girl.
“I know, it’s just I feel like I have to be extra paranoid with Zeke.” Slouching further into the fuzzy chair Mikasa had placed at her desk, you let Mikasa continue to fiddle with your hair, she insisted on at least putting some product in before you guys went out. “Like he probably knows I like him, but I really don’t think he cares.”
“He cares.” Mikasa simply reassured, whipping your head around, “Eren says he asks about you often.”
“He just cares because he knows me and Eren are friends” You countered, shaking Mikasa off and standing up from the chair, you sighed looking at yourself in the mirror. You still battled with yourself, you were confident in your looks to a degree, you never really cared how you presented to others as long as you looked reasonable, and not trashy. But now, you feel like you have to look your best everywhere, even to the simplest grocery trips, in the fear you’d run into that blonde bastard.
“Or,” Sasha stood up carefully, approaching you like a wounded animal, “Maybe you really caught his interest. I’m not saying he’s like a changed man, but you’re something special. I wouldn’t doubt he’s interested in more than a quick fuck, y’know.” She shrugged and patted your back, “Now come on, Romeo is waiting.”
Mikasa rolled her eyes, following Sasha out the door, not before stopping briefly, “She might not be wrong. I’m not saying he’s perfect - he’s far from it. Trust yourself for once, you know how you really feel.” With that your two closest friends left you for your thoughts.
Zeke Jaeger was a player. He was a man of many tricks and talents. He was smart, very smart, and knew how to play his cards better than anyone else in his circle. At this point, Zeke was most likely perceptive enough to know you were falling for his bare minimum bullshit, and you often wondered what he thought of you because of that. You were not weak, you were not going to melt at his touch and beg for his hand in marriage.
You just wanted to be seen. To be held. Is that much to ask? It sure felt like it. It felt like you were obsessed over nothing.
It was Friday, your day was halfway over, you had just walked out of one of your afternoon lectures with Connie when both of your phones simultaneously buzzed. It was infuriating to have to pause in the bitter winter to fish your phone out of your jacket as you shivered. Connie yakked about the weather as you waved him off to read the message. It was a text to the group chat from Eren, ‘Everyone at my place tn, 6? I got the goods, bring anything you want too lol’
Of course, you were no stranger to what scene would behold you once you made it to Erens place. You’d all get cross-faded, you’d all goof off, and you’d all finally be able to relax after weeks of being tense and noses deep in studies.
Connie smiled at the offer from Eren, shoving his hands in his pockets, “So are you gonna go?”
Sighing, you continued walking, doing the same with your freezing hands, Connie caught up with you, still hanging for an answer. “I mean, yeah, why wouldn't I?”
Connie shrugged, “I dunno, you seem, like detached. I didn’t know if you wanted to go. You never seem up to it anymore.” Connie was never usually a serious guy, but he was damn perceptive. But maybe he never even realized it sometimes.
“Uh, no, I’m fine. Just been actually focusing on school for once, y’know.” Mumbling, you shrugged back, keeping pace with your friend.
“Right. Okay. Yeah.” He huffed, “I just, I dunno, we’re worried.”
You lagged for a brief moment, “We?”
Connie sighed, he just grabbed your arm and dragged you along, “It’s too cold for this conversation. But, yes, everyone can tell, you’re not the same as you used to be. You seem, I dunno, drained? We worry, we’re your friends.”
“Seasonal depression I guess? I don’t know, I’m working on it.”
“I know,” He spoke softly, a first for the loud Connie, “just remember you have people in your corner.”
And so you did remember. Normally, you would never recommend doing what you did that night, you’d never recommend taking a chance on something you had such hesitation for, especially when all the signs pointed towards disaster. But as the drinks sloshed down your throat, burning feeling combating with the heaviness of the joint you had just shared with him, this get together was going well. You were going to take a chance, for fun, but it started with anxiety.
Sasha, Mikasa and yourself had arrived at Eren's on time, so had everyone else - everyone but Zeke. Of course, he had to make a dramatic entrance, make your heart race, waiting and waiting for his arrival. The drinks flowed, you allowed yourself to get tipsy and mildly high, enough to function, but enough to take the edge off.
All of you sat in the living room talking about school, work and other rather mundane topics. The front door handle jiggled for a brief moment and clicked open, your head snapped towards it, heart practically bleeding out of your chest.
It was Zeke.
Maybe the alcohol was a bad idea. Your face drained of color - God, you actually thought you were going to make a move on Zeke - how could you when you’re practically on the verge of vomiting at his mere presence. Could you really go up to him and exclaim, ‘Hey Zeke I have feelings for you and want this to be more!!’
Could you? Did the alcohol and weed loosen you up or create a ball of nervousness. Instantly once the door cracked open, you shifted to turn away from it. You’d pay no mind to him, you were crazy, he could have any girl. Why you?
Zeke pushed through. You ignore it.
Zeke called out to everyone, saying Hi and sitting his stuff down. You ignore it.
Zeke sits down next to you, so close. You ignore it.
Zeke stares at you, you can feel it. You ignore it.
He does the same.
“Hey, everything good?” Eren walked into the kitchen, popping the fridge open and grabbing a few waters. You sat on the counter, mindlessly scrolling on your phone, casually sipping your wine. A little while ago you had wandered in here, everyone had been having their own conversations and you couldn’t bother to join.
“Yeah, just a little out of it.” Eren sighed at your response, nodding slightly, as he walked by, he squeezed you on the shoulder. That was all he did, you were left alone to your devices, that is of course until Zeke walked in. You swear, if Eren made him come in here -
“So, are you just gonna ignore me the entire night?” The blonde questioned, grabbing the wine bottle next to you and filling up his cup. Your eyes scanned him, you hated his sly looks. He positioned himself standing between your legs, he stared back, sipping his drink.
“I thought you didn’t drink wine, Zeke.” You spoke back, simply. Zeke sighed, his eyes grew soft, looking down at his cup, already halfway empty.
“I thought you liked me, (Y/N).” Zeke didn’t look at you. Though, you’re glad he didn’t.
What did this mean? Your heart was racing. Of course, obviously you like him, not just romantically, but also as a good friend. Despite his antics and sly comments, he made a good friend; highly logical, great to bounce ideas off of, to go to for advice, he was always willing to help with any school related things, overall was very reliable.
“I do like you, Zeke.” You’re sure both of you were too drunk to be having this conversation, he was so close to you, he smelled like weed and whiskey. His eyes wandered your body, not bothering to make real eye contact.
“Sure, but you’re usually all over me. What’s wrong? Did I do something?” Maybe you would be honest. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt.
“The problem is the fact that I like you, too much I think.” Your cheeks were burning, the alcohol is not helping, your eyes looked anywhere but his face. You felt like a schoolgirl.
Zeke slowly nodded, taking another sip of his drink. He scanned your face, probably reading your mind. “That’s the issue?”
“Well, if I’m gonna be honest, I have feelings for you. But that- we wouldn’t work out.” Sighing, you took a deep breath, deciding that this was your moment. Just be honest with him, sure he’s an asshole and that won’t change, but maybe a heart to heart would work out.
“Why wouldn’t we work out?” Zeke questioned, brows furrowed. He abandoned the cup on the counter, shifting closer to you. Each arm was leaning by your sides, caging you in.
“Listen, No offense but you don’t get serious about relationships, and I do, like I can't hook up, I get too attached. I just didn’t wanna keep doing this ‘will they won’t they’ thing where we flirt everyday, it’s bothering me. I was gonna talk to you about it earlier but I chickened out.” Your head had dropped at this point, you refused to look him in the eyes, how could you? The air was thick with tension, the subtle sounds of the rest of your druk/high friends loudly chatting in the other room filled the silence between you too.
Zeke was thinking, you could tell. He was deep in thought, processing what you had just told him, he backed up from you ever so slightly. What was there to say to that? Honestly, it was a shocking thing to blurt out at a party.
Zeke sighed, “I see your point.”
“...Yeah…. Is that all you have to say?” Your mind raced, honestly what did you expect?
His hands waved in your face, chuckling, “Let me finish. I understand, and honestly, yeah, I’m not usually committed to people, I’m focused on school and my career. However, I will say I do quite enjoy being around you, more than I enjoy being around most people.”
A smile slipped on your face, “Yeah.”
“However,” He took a moment, you could practically see the cogs turning in his mind, he was being careful with his words, “I do enjoy this, us, I enjoy us a lot. I’ll be honest, I really wanted our relationship to be strictly ‘I help you study’, but I found myself thinking about you often. We connected really well, and I appreciate you.”
Your smile had crept onto him too, so contagious. “You’re joking, Zeke.”
“I’m not, if I wasn’t however many drinks in, I probably wouldn’t be admitting this shit. But it’s true, I think we work well with each other, you’ve been a breather. I’d like to see how this - ” He gestures between you two, ”- goes.”
He was offering a relationship to you, to take this joke flirting further. How can you take his word, though? “Do you mean it, though? Zeke, you’re not just saying this are you?” Pulling Zeke in by his shirt, he was merely centimeters away from your face. The warmth of his body engulfed you.
“I’d like to try for you.” His eyes wandered your face, finding a focal point on your lips.
Smiling, you nodded leaning into him, kissing him, hungrily. Breaking for air, you whispered, “Okay. Then let’s try.”
166 notes · View notes
sortofanobsession · 6 months
Text
Catching up (Platonic Mobius M Mobius x Reader)
Author's Note: here is just a 1k word scene of camaraderie. A bit of Lokius feels.
Misery might love company but good friends lift you up.
Post Season 2
Unbeta'd and barely edited.
Gender neutral for the most part.
Content warnings: loneliness, sadness.
You wave to Mobius as you walk through the restaurant doors. He stands and helps you out of your jacket. You hug. It almost feels normal. But for you, it isn't.
To anyone in the restaurant you look like two friends catching up, or maybe a couple on a date. They couldn't possibly know the reality of your situation.
Mobius gives you a once over as you take the seat he offers you.
“You look stunning,” he says as he sits at the table.
“Oh hush, you’d say that about anything after knowing me only in those beige and brown boring outfits day in and day out for all of time.” You grin. “But you don't look so bad yourself, M. “Especially the tie.”
Mobius grins as he smoothes the deep green tie he had paired with a black suit.
“You would, considering you picked it out.”
“You needed more color in your wardrobe,” you grinned. “And I know you like the color.” You wink. He shakes his head but you don't miss the sad look in his eyes. You reach across the table and squeeze his hand. “I miss ‘em too, M.”
He nods but the waiter arrives and you place your orders.
You talk about the weather and surface topics as the waiter brings your drinks. You tell him how Casey, OB and Timely have been testing a new feature of an alternative power source since the TVA doesn't actually pull energy from the loom like you used too. Sure, OB had stabilized a source not long after the loom failed. But OB was no longer satisfied with a singular source. He wanted back up for back ups.
“That's OB,” Mobius says fondly. “I'm just glad he has help now. It's not all on him.” Mobius gets that look that you know means he’s starting to get lost in his memories.
“So,” you ask. “How’re the boys?” and you have his full attention again.
“They’re good,” he smiles as he thinks about his sons. “A handful, but good.”
“Mischievous, are they?”
“Oh without a doubt,” Mobius chuckles.
You laugh too because of course the people he loves most are chaotic by nature.
“Well, if anyone knows how to handle chaotic energy, it's you, Mobius.” You smile up at the waiter as he brings your entrees.
“How about you? What have you been up to? Last I heard B-15 had you keeping an eye on some of the former TVA workers.”
You nod. “The ones we weren't sure would adjust well, but honestly, most everyone is thriving.”
“Except?”
“Just a couple people,” you try to shrug off details. But he waits you out. “Brad Wolfe is thriving but he's still an erratic idiot, so we keep an eye on him.”
“Probably a good call,” he says between bites of his side salad. “Anyone else setting off that analyst brain of yours?”
You had just taken another bite of your pasta when he asked and you tried not to sigh.
“Like I said, most everyone is doing well. You hear from Sylvie more than I do, and the TVA is still in transition, but we’re doing alright.”
“But?” He asks, because he's Mobius and he knows to read between the lines.
You sigh and set your fork down. Stalling as you take a sip of your drink but he just watches you with a narrowed gaze.
“Mobius,” you start, tone now more serious.
It's his turn to sign. “It's me isn't it, I'm the outlier.”
“You lost more than anyone, Mobius, and that's understandable.”
“You lost your friend too,” he says. You and Loki had been thick as thieves. You worked with the god almost as well as Mobius did. “And D-90.” You and the hunter had been close. How close Mobius had never managed to get out of you, but he knew it broke your heart when you found out Brad pruned him. He was pretty sure that was why you monitored the actor as close as you do. If Brad failed to make use of the life he killed your closest companion for, you'd prune Brad Wolfe yourself.
“The job always had risks,” you say sadly. “It was always a possibility. But before it had a purpose.”
“For all time,” Mobius says.
“Always,” you finish for him.
“Doesn't make it easier,” he says knowingly.
“Still keep expecting him to drop by my desk like nothing has changed.”
“Now you know why I didn't stay,” he points out.
“I knew that already, M.” You start eating again.
“But you need that purpose, don't you?” He asks.
“I didn't have a timeline with people that needed me,” you tell him. “I just monitor you guys now. No variants. It's rare we actually have to intervene these days. Just watching out for Timely’s variants. And thankfully they haven't seemed to notice us yet. But I think that's more…their doing than anyone else's.” You liked to think Loki had a hand in it all.
It's quiet as you both finish your meals.
“You can say their name,” Mobius finally says as dessert arrives. Mobius had predictably gotten key lime pie. “It's alright. I know you're avoiding it for my sake.”
“Last thing I want to do is make it harder on you, M. But to me, it’s…important. I know Loki’s got a bigger role than just protecting the timelines and free will. I just do.”
“How can you be so sure?” He asks.
You study your former colleague and there it was. The doubt and loneliness is written on his face. Unmasked and very real. You reach for his hand again. “Because of the little things. Brighter flowers, my favorite coffee is never out of stock. A pack of cookies I could have sworn weren't there before.” You admit. “Either that or time has finally swiss cheesed my brain and my memory is failing.”
“Maybe it's just wishful thinking,” he says.
“Maybe, but at least this time I get to choose to believe. And I do. Believe in Loki. Always have thanks to you. So, I know you do too.”
________________________
This one if for you guys. @marvelforever352, @welcome--back, @bugbugboy
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keyoflorelei · 10 months
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After hearing about Oshi no Ko for months, I finally got around to watching season 1/reading up to the latest chapter of the manga,,, and,,, I think I went in with my expectations too high from how much it has been hyped? I enjoyed it, but it feels like a solid 6.5/10 for me
Rambling under the read more
The positive:
Love Ai, love Ruby, love Aqua. I particularly enjoyed how the first arc was set up, I enjoy how Aka has handled writing characters reacting to trauma differently, and I am enjoying the current arc.
Aqua and Ruby's relationship from being doctor/patient that considered each other to be family to being reborn as twin reincarnators to finding out who the other was in the previous life? chef's kiss
Ai on the other hand is honestly one of my absolute favorites and I honestly have no words to describe how much I love how she was written. I just love her,,, so much,,, ┗( T﹏T )┛
The negative:
The Akane - Aqua - Kana love triangle, the completely random interjections of slapstick comedy, the stage play arc, the random crow girl? All felt incredibly unnecessary/take away from the story line.
It honestly feels like Aka wrote the first two arcs and the current arc and then was told by his editor that he needed to fluff the story out. To an extent, I get that he is trying to show different dark parts of show biz/level up Aqua/Ruby's career path, but it just feels so?? Rushed?? Disjointed?? A slodge to read through at times?? Like Aka couldn't decide if he wanted to write a murder mystery, a high school romance, a rise in showbiz, or a comedy, so he spins a wheel every chapter and what it lands on is what that chapter is going to have.
Kana had this fantastic character journey with starting at her lowest point in her career, to starting to realize it's ok to let her acting shine again in the shojo live action, to really starting to really shine on stage/regain her confidence as an idol?? And then comes the stage arc to reset her to zero and go through the entire character development in three panels?? And she leaves the idol group after barely being shown in it??
How the entire idol group is handled??? Is just so weird to me like they were shown on stage one (1) time and they got one (1) MV, and then the group just pretty much just?? gets shoved to the background?? Why wasn't Ruby allowed to go out and recruit members? Why was her showbiz career pretty much just a quick montage?? Why do we see Aqua interacting with the girls more than they do with each other????????? Why is Ruby rarely allowed to interact with anyone without Aqua having to introduce her to them/being the object of their discussion????
I'm just,, not happy with how the idol group was handled in general. I would have loved for the story to focus 50% on Aqua trying to find the killer and 50% on Ruby progressing through her idol career instead of focusing 90% on everyone falling in love with Aqua while he has internal monologues in the corner :| It would have been so so so much fun to see Aqua going a progressively darker route with his manipulations as a foil to his sister who is steadfast in her refusing to lie/go against her morals/actively trying to heal, but still trying to seek justice for her loved ones??
IDK and how the hunt for Aqua/Ruby's dad is being handled is kind of weird? Their dad is a serial killer, but it feels like it was forgotten about for half the series? Like Aqua realizes the killer is probably his dad, but all we are shown (outside of Aqua's thoughts) is one panel per arc showing the completed paternity tests? Like why do we never get to see Aqua in action collecting the samples, making small talk with the crew to try to find clues? Why are there no panels with reporters talking in the background about actresses going missing? If Hikaru really has been killing for what? 20ish years? (Age 11 to 33?), and his primary targets are celebrity women at the peak of their career?? Shouldn't more people?? Notice?? The very famous women missing??? Isn't this something internet forums would be eating up???? Wouldn't Miyako be reminding the girls constantly about safety if she knew celebrity women were going missing? Wouldn't she be implementing safety precautions? Why do we only find out about celebrity deaths out of nowhere?
Like Ai and Gorou's murders were really well done, but the way we find out that Taiki's parents died in a murder/suicide is just by Taiki flat out saying it? Why wasn't that mentioned earlier instead of him just telling Aqua at the very end of that stage play arc? Aqua would have absolutely seen it on the news when it happened or at the very least heard from the director he is studying under?? The crew would have been gossiping about it on set for sure??? With how big of otaku Kana and Akane are about acting, they would have known that from the get go/mentioned it to Aqua when they found out they were acting alongside Taiki?? It's kind of a big elephant in the room and somehow nobody mentions it?? Idk I felt like there could have been just much more suspense/foreshadowing of all the murders/setting up their dad as the big bad, but love triangles and slapstick comedy were the priority (╯°□°)╯︵ ┻━┻
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cjwritesforyou · 2 months
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College Freshman Chapter 16
The class just studied for the test, but what will the results be?
Chapter 16 of this daily rom-com series.
Angie walked into the room and set her things down. She got into position and put her hands on the desk. Yes, she was praying again. No, she did not care about others.
Molly walked in and didn’t even say anything. She just got right behind Angie, and right to praying.
A few minutes passed by and Angelina could tell Thomas was there. Someone stopped at her desk and sighed loudly. Even though she never opened her eyes–she could just tell–everything about the person exuded Thomas.
Another minute passed and Angie heard dress shoes. She opened her eyes to find the professor. She was about to turn around to slap Molly, but she was already looking at the front. Molly pointed at her and turned her face sideways, which Angie couldn’t help smiling at. 
She saw Thomas when she turned, and noticed he was watching her eyes, too. She waved at him and got a wave back. It wasn’t all for nothing.
The professor gave a similar speech to the test prior and passed around the paper with the test scores.
Angie searched and searched for her number, and saw it was lined up with the only perfect score on the test. She looked at the rest and saw one 98, and the rest that were high in the 90’s.
She turned around and Molly held up a peace sign. An 86! She was getting better at studying. She was taking it more seriously, too. Then a thought of inspiration hit her and she remembered the student number that had the highest score on the first test. Thomas.
It was lined up with the 98. She beat him. Finally. But for some reason, she didn’t feel anything inside. There was no happiness or joy that she expected. She didn’t understand this feeling, and turned around to face Thomas. Already asleep–perfect. Now she didn’t know what to do, except wait to ask him what happened after the professor finished his lecture.
Angie took notes but the lecture felt like forever. She couldn’t help asking herself more questions, and she focused less and less on the lecture, and more and more on Thomas’s score. She didn’t understand it. She checked behind her again–still fast asleep. There were too many minutes left in the class for her to think.
The professor finished his lecture at last, and she got up right away. Molly just watched her. She wasn’t ready for this. Angie went through person after person leaving class and stopped at Thomas who was still asleep. She paused a moment and thought. Then, something hit her and she hit him!
“Ouch,” Thomas said. “That hurt.”
“What happened?” Angie demanded.
“What do you mean what happened?”
“On the test. What. Happened?”
Thomas sat back in his chair and sighed. He had just been woken up from a slumber, after all. “I got what I got,” he said, looking elsewhere. “Isn’t that a good score?”
“A good score? Of course it’s a good score for anyone else.” She kept watching his eyes drift. “But it’s not what you get. I’ve come to learn that. So what happened?”
He looked her in the eye and started gathering his things. “I got one off. What’s the big deal? I missed one.”
She was still standing in front of him, furious. “Thomas.” That got his attention. He made eye contact with her. She wasn’t one to use names, so it held more meaning, this way. “You weren’t even awake when the scores came around. I saw.”
“I know what I got.”
“Did you get one wrong on purpose?”
“I-no. Why-why would I ever do that?”
“You’re stuttering. You never stutter. You got one wrong on purpose. You were going easy on me,” she said, and turned around, fuming. She had enough of him for today.
“Angelina, wait,” Thomas said. There was a different tone in his voice. A softer, more gentle tone. “You know I wouldn’t miss one. I had to get one wrong.”
“Well, that’s not what I wanted.” They were the last ones in the room. Molly was already at the door, and she was about done packing everything up for Biology. “What I wanted was something fair.”
“This was the most fair way I could think of! It’s just one question. Angelina, you bested me this time. It’s not going to be fair when I have an upper hand in this, it can’t be fair–”
“Well, I wish it was fair.” A tear rolled down her face as she headed for the door. “Don’t ever do that again,” she said, and the door slammed shut.
Thomas was left alone in the room, and he didn’t know what to do besides scratch his head. He sat back in a chair. He thought he had done the right thing, but none of it mattered. None of it mattered when it’s not what she wanted.
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sparkly-key · 8 months
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A missed rendezvous Pt. 1
First part is written for Whumptober 2023 Day 7 - "I paced around for hours on empty. I jumped at the slightest of sounds." | Alleyway | Radio silence | "Can you hear me?"
Content warning: Panic attack, reference to torture
Read on AO3
Crowley was late.
Well, no, actually, Aziraphale was late, but Aziraphale was punctual to a fault and that was why the angel struggled not to fidget in Crowley’s body, as though doing so would wrinkle the demon’s corporal form.
Whatever confidence he’d feigned in Hell was quickly evaporating.
“Oh, fiddlesticks,” Aziraphale-as-Crowley muttered, running his hands down the top of his thighs. He wrinkled his nose when the fabric that brushed his palms wasn’t his typical soft material, but denim instead.
Agnes Nutters couldn’t have been wrong, could she? The disguised angel had climbed out of the Holy Water unharmed hours ago, with Hell quaking at his back and Michael aghast at the sight. They’d chosen their faces, and seemed to have chosen well.
A slight breeze whispered along the back of Crowley’s neck, eliciting a shiver from the corporation. Aziraphale looked out over the square, the playful zephyr dancing through the treetops. The setting sun’s golden rays were starting to tint the blue sky, a marked difference from the slightly overcast canvas he and Crowley had met under in the park that morning.
“I’m sure we agreed on Berkeley Square,” the angel told himself.
The night of the failed Armageddon, Aziraphale had hastily nixed the idea of meeting at the bandshell, their last conversation there plaguing him. (“Even if I did know where the Antichrist was, I wouldn’t tell you – we’re on opposite sides!”) The bookshop had been a strong possibility, but as a sanctioned embassy of Heaven, it felt too … risky to meet there.
Aziraphale rose to his feet, wringing his hand as he strode toward the Bentley – Belatedly, he realized whose body he was inhabiting and tried to lengthen his stride and not be as tense as he felt.
He slid into the car carefully, the image of the vehicle engulfed in flames still fresh in his memory. Not a scratch, he’d told Crowley-as-Aziraphale that morning.
The Bentley sputtered as he turned the key in the ignition, indignant that the imposter would think it was anything less than perfect.
“Forgive me, I didn’t mean to offend,” Aziraphale assured it, flexing his hands on the steering wheel. He knew how to drive – had insisted on taking the test before it was required to obtain a license. “Off we go, then, shall we?”
His grip tightened as the Bentley roared to life, darting out into traffic as if Crowley truly was the one driving it.  The pedal pressed against the floor despite Aziraphale lifting his foot off it. It sped through the streets of London, barely letting the angel steer.
The radio crackled to life, music blaring through the speakers as Aziraphale winced.
I'm a shooting star leaping through the sky
Like a tiger defying the laws of gravity –
The angel hemmed as he shut the music off. Maybe he could convince the Bentley to play something more calming, like Bach or Moza-
“GAH!” He cried as the song returned at a deafening level. His hands jerked on the wheel, causing the car to swerve just slightly against the Bentley’s path. (If it had truly been Crowley behind the wheel, the Bentley would not have been so impertinent. Or maybe it would have. It had been a rough couple of days.)
I'm a racing car passing by
Like Lady Godiva
I'm gonna go, go, go
There's no stopping me
“I don’t suppose you could play anything less … rambunctious?” Aziraphale asked hesitantly, raising his voice to be heard over the noise. It went louder. “I should have asked before I shut it off! I’m sure you’re just as worried as I am - I’m sorry!”
The radio didn’t shut off, but it did get drastically quieter.
“Thank you,” the angel sighed.
They reached the park minutes later and as much as Aziraphale complained about going 90 miles an hour through central London, he could admit there were perks.
He got out and patted the Bentley’s hood gratefully as he passed in front of it. The sun had sunk further down the horizon since he’d left Berkeley Square and Aziraphale fought the urge to nod or smile at those starting to leave the park in acknowledgement as he strode toward Crowley’s favorite bench.
It was empty.
He looked toward the path they’d tread earlier, where he’d started to chase after the angels who hustled a bound and gagged Crowley-as-Aziraphale away.
(“Renegade angels, all tied up with string,” Uriel started, their hands folded neatly in front of them.
“These are a few of our favorite things,” Sandalphon concluded, his gold tooth flashing as he smiled cruelly.
Aziraphale didn’t know what was more painful – Hastur’s bat striking his skull or the Sound of Music reference.)
A raucous chorus of quacks erupted from his feet and Aziraphale startled, his eyes drawn to the brood of ducks circling the park bench. The largest of them waddled forward, voicing its impatience as the angel stared at it in befuddlement.
“Sorry, dear things, Crowley isn’t - oh!” He realized, miracling a handful of frozen peas and scattering them on the ground. “Apologies for the confusion, I had forgotten who I was for a moment.”
The fowl crowded closer, pecking the ground greedily. The leader decided that the angel was holding out on it and nipped at his leg.
“How rotten Crowley must spoil you,” Aziraphale murmured, bending to offer another handful of the tiny vegetables to the duck. It showed no wariness as it gobbled hungrily from his palm - of course it wouldn’t fear Crowley, the demon who’d sheltered the blameless goats of the blameless Job as quickly as he’d sheltered his children.
The memory came unbidden and Aziraphale couldn’t stop the small noise that escaped his throat as he recalled days of sitting in this place, nearly driven out of his mind with worry for a demon who’d done something so against his side that the angel had lost him for three and a half decades.
The duck wandered away, sated. His brood followed, their cacophony carrying through the park as the world spun for Aziraphale.
They had been so focused on surviving the threat that they hadn’t truly considered any other alternative. He’d never considered it during either, as he flicked Holy Water at the glass partition while Dagon and Hastur hurried to hide him from the demonic mob that only seemed to grow louder as they exited the room.
(“Get him out of here,” Beelzebub ordered with just a hint of fear. “It’ll cause a riot.”)
Of course Hell would be scared of Crowley, one of their top performers whose creativity alleged indirectly damned millions. (The demon waved away Aziraphale’s concern when he saw Crowley’s report on the Spanish Inquisition.)
But Heaven be afraid of Aziraphale? Preposterous.
Aziraphale sank unceremoniously to the ground, trying to force his breathing to slow like he’d read in one of the psychology textbooks he’d purchased from uni students desperate to get more than $15 for a book they had paid 20 times that for.
What if they’d found out about the switch?
His heart thudded against his rib cage, the beat echoing in his ears.
Surely they would have come after Aziraphale already if that was the case.
“H-he-he’s alive,” the angel stammered, bowing his head as if uttering a prayer. “He has to be.”
Barely even a day earlier, the blond wouldn’t have had a doubt that Heaven and Hell were very different places and of course Crowley was safe, spared from a punishment similar to the one he refused to even mention more than 150 years later. But now he could only think of Gabriel’s frustration that Adam wouldn’t bring about the apocalypse and end humanity.
This was like Edinburgh all over again, cut off from the demon. For a moment, he contemplated another rash of extravagant miracles. Would the Metatron themselves journey down to Earth to intervene in the chaos or would Gabriel step in? If he got started right now, maybe Crowley would be freed before the end of the day.
Or somebody would put together that an apparent demon was drawing on their Grace and Heaven’s power, ending the charade and sending Crowley back to Hell’s execution.
The angel couldn’t wait for decades, years, centuries for his best friend to be freed. He’d have to get the demon himself.
He latched onto the faint ember of hope as though it was a buoy in the storm, forcing himself to calm down.
“I can’t have a heart attack,” he muttered between counts of four. Inhale. One … two … three … four. Exhale. “Firstly, because Crowley would never forgive me for killing this body.”
One … two … three … four. Inhale. One … two … three … four. Exhale.
“Secondly, angels don’t have heart attacks,” he rationalized as it finally no longer hurt to breathe.
As an angel, Aziraphale knew all the ways to get into headquarters. As somebody currently impersonating a demon, he didn’t know if they would work. So it would be easier to be escorted.
With a huff, the angel pushed himself off the ground and headed toward the Bentley.
Next
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iviarelleblr · 1 year
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A Locked Tomb theory I don't think I've seen, though my tag browsing has been by no means comprehensive:
As a preface, @onefleshonepod made this reply-post recently about the population attrition in TLT possibly being because resurrection requires a ten-to-one soul loss. This does track with the fact that everyone is VERY clear that resurrection has a great and terrible cost, but I have a counterpoint. I just don't want to keep hijacking the original post they leapt off from because it's good and not at all related to this, so I'm making this its own thing.
So, after John's interludes in Harrow-Nona's dreams, I had a truly cursed thought: this wasn't the first time he resurrected them. He talks openly of modifying their memories, and what is history except the memory we choose to keep?
The objects Palamedes scries in Gideon chapter 12 are several thousand years apart in readings, despite appearing that they should be the same age. We know John's power is pretty incredible. We know he resurrected his friends at least once. But what if he kept altering the molecular age signature on the House so that they wouldn't get suspicious, but occasionally missed a spot, or got incomplete coverage every time?
Sure, we know that this set has existed for ten thousand years since the last Resurrection. We are given here the fact that Pal can't scry anything older than that ten thousand year limit accurately, under normal circumstances. But what if John put Canaan House, or the whole of Earth, into necromantic stasis after the RBs started to attack? Right around the time, say, that Alecto was put in stasis herself?
The deciding factor, for me, is that one of the things Pal scries is just fifty years old. We've already been told that nobody's been here in that time frame to the present except maybe the constructs like Teacher. They wouldn't have been leaving random young objects around in corners near the hatch to the testing area.
But that doesn't explain why some objects there might be three and nine thousand years old, when supposedly the place was only opened up after the Resurrection and closed up within about a thousand years and has sat unoccupied for the nine thousand years since.
So it is that I propose that John required at least 8000 years of resurrecting the system, losing some to attrition as the cost of the repeated efforts, perhaps 10% of the total each time. I don't know what circumstances might have led to their repeated failure, but I can't help but feel this is a viable possibility, from the way he talks about the first Resurrection, and how the events leading up to it differ from what the Lyctors told us in Harrow.
The primary evidence I can find against this amounts to "Pyrrha remembers G-'s deadname in Nona" which isn't even necessarily against my theory, if John isn't as good at memory wiping as he thinks he is, just like he's not as good at changing the age signature of Canaan House as he thinks he is.
Then, nine thousand years of stasis threw off the dating again, like if you had an object from a thousand years ago and brought it forward in a time machine, the carbon dating would be all wrong and show it to be brand new. But I feel like the population loss is down to both repeated resurrections and possibly that necromancy poisons the people in contact with it, so that all the Houses are slowly withering in population, which concentrates the necromantic power in those still living.
I think, though, that to John, the greatest cost of the Resurrection isn't the souls themselves, exactly. In part, I think it's the feeling of power as he channels it through himself and then has to let it go. In part, he still loves the Earth in his own toxic way, and burning her up slowly may, figuratively or literally, cause him pain. It's also possible that he's had a reduction in his capabilities since the first time, since he's burned off so many souls and so many of his resources. Maybe the cost of using power is realizing it's finite, and his gig is 90% done.
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heyitssashag · 1 year
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It’s been a good weekend. Quiet. Yesterday, the kid and I went for a nice lunch out together and grabbed some groceries. We went into a toy store and she wanted a new Etch-A-Sketch. I was happy to get her something that gets her off of video games. She’s been pretty glued to it. I also picked up a new set of watercolour pencil crayons. Really excited about those. I slotted out some time tomorrow and Tuesday to test them out.
This morning, I went for a peaceful walk. The mud wasps were out.
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Last night, I started reading the book Daisy Jones & the Six.
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I finished it this afternoon. It’s was just “okay”. I’m not quite sure what the hype was about. It was an interestingly structured book - that part was very unique. I felt it was an easy, quick read. Sometimes it’s nice to read some fluff. lol. I just started to watch the series on Prime. So far it’s alright and fairly close to what the book was about (aside from some minor details). I don’t want to give any spoilers in case anyone out there wants to read/watch it. In a nutshell, it’s about sex, drugs and rock n’ roll in the 70’s.
I got to talk to a good friend over Zoom this evening. I’ve missed him. I miss my friends, in general. I haven’t seen any of them in person since I moved to the island almost a year and a half ago. I’m just over a 90 minute ferry ride from Vancouver but I may as well have moved to Mars. I’m praying that my upcoming surgery will help relieve my pain and I can go on day trips without dreading it getting worse. Right now, the pain and discomfort is super unpredictable. Some days it wipes me out too hard to do much of anything.
I’m thrilled that I finally have my juicer out of storage. I used it only twice before I moved. I actually broke down and bought a cold press juicer but I hate it. Cleaning it is a bitch. So many small parts and it takes too long to juice. The juicer that was stuck in my Iocker rocks. It’s fast and works well. It’s not as good for getting those “nutrients” like a cold press juicer does. It’s also not practical if you want to juice a whole lot and store it in the fridge. But whatever. I drink it right away, anyway. No storing needed. I also think I get plenty of nutrients from this one. I’ll be giving the cold press juicer to my Mom to try out.
For my daily “creativity challenge” today, I decided to play with the in app video editor on Instagram. I’ve never used it before. Normally I just upload videos and photos as-is. So here’s what I came up with using my juicer. I used the words “little” three times in the video but whatever. I never actually posted this video either (on IG) when I was done because it sucked. lol. Hopefully, I’ll be inspired to do a more interesting one next time (that’s good enough to post). 😆
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evilliyes · 10 months
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Blog Update I talked about getting back on the bandwagon and jumped right off after two posts, so... that’s my bad.  I do, in fact, have stuff queued up at this point so that I don’t have to think about missing updates every Friday when the hour passes. With this last set, I’ll have exhausted everything I took screen captures of from the time of the Proseka event.  There’s still a bit more I can add (especially now that I’ve mastered my cards), such as what the card data looks like, full screenshots of the unique images, and some appropriately credited assets from the game files.
As I’ve played, I’ve figured out that Proseka is basically an endless well of content -- given how 3DMVs work, I can have the Evillious cast doing some tap to Becoming Potatoes, or dancing to Children Record, or enjoy utter ridiculousness with Theme of the Niccori Survey Team, or have everyone jam on some instruments for Lost One’s Weeping.  I’ve also done the math and, with all permutations, a five-dancer song has 120 unique permutations of who’s in which spot.  And, of course, posting the notemaps for each level of difficulty for each Evillious song.
Therefore, I’ve finally updated my lists (including the addition of the Proseka tag in Misc) and am hoping to get the physical and Kindle items posted, many of which still need to be scanned, admittedly.  Some things only work in picture form, but, fortunately, my phone’s camera is actually pretty decent.  I also still have copies of books to pull apart (I know, I’m a monster) and other things.  I don’t want to make any promises, but that’s where I’m hoping to trend going forward, with Proseka stuff in the meantime as hopefully still-entertaining filler.
Personal Proseka Friending Regarding Proseka (and the amount that I play it), I just had someone add me from knowing about Evilliyes (which is on my profile), so I just wanted to add -- if you find me, feel free to add me!  I change my username constantly (sometimes just for jokes), but I guess another way to tell it’s my profile is that, on page 4 on the left, I have my first event badge -- top 4,000 for the MORE MORE Making Christmas event.
I haven’t tested all of these names against the censor (I had to find a substitute for “Queen of the Glass”), but, as a general rule, regarding my cover card... If I’m using anybody who’s not in the VIRTUAL SINGER group, look for [Alice Merry-Go-Round]. If I’m using Miku, look for [Margarita Felix] If I’m using Rin, look for [Lilith Baldured] If I’m using Len, look for [Amostia] If I’m using Luka, look for [Lukana Octo] If I’m using MEIKO, look for [Germaine Avadonia] If I’m using KAITO, look for [Karchess Crim]
The friends list cap is pretty small and I’m constantly hovering between the mid-80s to mid-90s, so I occasionally go through and do a clean of almost everyone on there to just kinda see new peoples’ profiles and accomplishments, enjoy unique customized profiles, that sort of thing.  If you’ve friended me and then find out we’re not friends anymore, it’s nothing personal at all, please feel free to re-add me!
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rigelmejo · 1 year
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FRIENDS HELP ME OUT (don’t worry it’s not a big deal). Can you guy please Honestly tell me around what level of japanese you knew when you became able to learn a decent amount of new words from consuming some japanese content without looking up words?
By this I mean you could of course have learned even more new words if you’d looked unknown words up. But even if you looked up no words at all, you understood enough of the main idea to guess the meaning of a decent amount of unknown words you saw. For japanese, I mean just guess the meaning of a new word - since for the kanji words if you had no audio or furigana the pronunciation may not have been guessable, but meaning might be. And by all this I mean not that you could do this with every single media, but you could start to do it with Some media: for example a simple manga or a particular show or video game. 
---
Example. I’m probably only N4ish, and can’t pass an N5 test because my vocabulary is all over the place. I know around 2000+ words and have read a grammar guide on everything up to N3 and a bit beyond. I am by no means N2 or N1 (which I’d consider similar to B1 or B2, which is when I would expect learning words only from immersion WITHOUT word lookup works perfectly fine).
If I open up Hikaru No Go, on the first page I see:
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Dore - I know that word, mo ?, kore mo - this also, batto - bat?, shinainaa - shinai - if shimasu/suru is do then ‘not do’/’won’t do’ and naa? is probably just a way of saying it. - Maybe he’s saying “where is [it?] And this bat won’t do aahh” So he’s looking for something. I got the main idea, though I could be confused about doremo.
Actual translation from english manga: Hmm, its all junk.
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ne - attitude sound. Mou - already, deyou - lets go out? (you for suggestion, de for leave?), Hikaru - boys name. kimi based on the hanzi i know I’m going to guess means atmosphere, warui - bad, so she’s saying “Lets go out Hikaru, this place has a bad vibe”
{oops I missed this bubble}
o - oh!?, kore nan ka - what is this, iinjanai ka - i’m going to guess this means “is this something good?” as iin - good, janai - not good. So he’s saying “oh?! This might be something good?”
Actual translation from english manga: Let’s get out of here Hikaru, I’m getting the creeps. / Oh, c’mon Akari, stop complaining/ Wooh, I found something!
So it looks like I grasped the main idea okay without grabbing a dictionary, despite not having N2 level japanese. So this material would be one I could learn new words from with context potentially, even if I looked no words up. 
--
For you, what was the threshold with either particular materials like a manga, or overall, for you to start being able to learn a decent number of words from context? 
For example your threshold is when you understand the main idea, or when you understand the main idea and 70% of details, etc? Or when you were N2 novels in slice of life settings became something you could guess (meaning of) new words only from context when you wanted? 
When I looked at the reddit forms people generally were answering at N2 or N1 level or never. I think the Reddit LearnJapanese users skew toward people who prefer to look up every unknown word though, who like to use anki for quicker memoriziation of new words, and who have low tolerance for ambiguity.
(Tolerance for ambiguity is how much you can tolerate engaging with media you don’t fully understand - most people can comfortably engage with material they comprehend 98% and that’s most media you consume in your native language, then many people can tolerate material they comprehend 95% of, and some people can tolerate material they comprehend 90% of. Below 90% most people feel ‘reading pain’ or drained if trying to read/watch something, and often material comprehended under 95% is used for intensive reading (or intensive watching) where everything unknown is looked up and the material is engaged with for a shorter period of time. This is true in your native language too when you learn to read in literature class - you get short excerpts in your textbook with lots of unknown words with definitions, and reading assignments of books are often books assumed to be 95% comprehensible for your class’s reading level.)
There are some ways to improve ‘comprehension’ without actually knowing 95% of words on the page. If you know english, and read a French technical paper on a psychology topic you are already familiar with? You will 1. already know background information about the topic so information in the article won’t be new to you, 2. you can rely on the shared latin-based cognates in scientific words to understand a large portion of the words, then rely on shared english-french cognates to understand another portion of the words (an english speaker can guess marcher has to do with moving - sounds like march, an english speaker can guess someil has to do with sleep). A person already familiar with recognizing grammar patterns or who already studied very basic french will recognize ‘la/le/les’ in front of nouns, will recognize the verbs by word endings, if a sentence is saying something positive or negative (n’ pas), and recognize the adjectives. So they will be able to focus on the necessary words for the main idea - usually the verb of what’s going on, the subject and object, and if any meaning is negated. From all that, there’s a good chance an A2 learner could read this psychology article and understand it well. I should know lol, I read a ton of science articles on wikipedia as an A1 and A2 learner in french because the materials were much easier to read even though I only had studied like 1000 words. This is also a benefit when reading spanish - I’ve only studied maybe 500 words of spanish and the A1 basics, but I have a book about linguistics in spanish so it uses a lot of technical language and I can read and use it for reference just fine. But a spanish novel? I have no idea what’s going on, I don’t have enough context from surrounding information OR vocabulary (since I have almost no spanish vocab I know). 
So like... you can say count 80% of the words on a page and know that many, but also depending on the content you may have additional resources providing more tools to comprehend it up to 95%. As I mentioned, if it’s French you can lean on english and latin cognates to comprehend more words than you’ve actually learned. With japanese, I can rely on my hanzi knowledge to make a bit more guesses about some word meanings than I could without hanzi knowledge. You can use your understanding of grammar to identify subject, object, tense, positive/negative, descriptions, verbs, time period, place. And if you already are familiar with the topic - like its a show, movie, book, you already experienced in a language you know - then you can use your memory of the content to help guess what the unknown words mean. If you are willing to tolerate ambiguity of knowing less than 95% of the words, and willing to use all surrounding context you have available (like reading a plot summary beforehand or watching something in english first, or looking for cognates and grammar clues) then you can sometimes handle engaging with stuff you know less than 95% of. 
@a-whump-muffin​ from talks we had I’m guessing you started learning some stuff from context only, when you were watching shows in Japanese around N3? I know you said you watched with english subs sometimes (so I guess the english translation helped you figure out the meaning of new words). But eventually you were also just watching in japanese and able to pick up new words. 
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poisonouswritings · 1 year
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Rant below:
(TLDR; One of my classes had a two part final exam, I did both parts and triple-checked they were submitted, I log on yesterday and it says one half wasn't even started and says I'm un-enrolled from the class. Today (20th) is the day the teacher is inputting final grades. I've emailed the teacher and am waiting for a response and am going to throw myself down a set of stairs.)
I am soooo fucking exhausted. I had this class, right? And I joined late. Within the allotted time (three weeks from the start of the semester) but late. And because I joined late, there were three assignments that I had missed. I did them and submitted them within the first week of being in the class. Emailed the teacher and she said she would add them in. Because of the way the categories were weighted, one singular 1.0 point assignment made up 30% of my total grade (because it was the only assignment in that category). And she just never fucking added it in. I emailed her at least five times about it. Nothing. She still hasn't added it in and we're technically done with the class now. That means that even though I was getting ≈90% on every single thing I was submitting, I was barely at a C because of that one category. And then she finally added something else to that category that was worth way more points, and my grade finally went from like a 72% to a 94% and it was like. Okay. Fine. You still didn't add the original three assignments that I repeatedly emailed you about, but fine. Whatever. I'll drop it.
Our final was online. Opened on Wednesday the 14th, closed Monday the 19th at 10PM. There were two parts. I finished them both on Wednesday at around 6 and 7 PM respectively. I triple-checked they were both submitted. I went to the completed assessments tab (this was in a separate site that we used specifically for tests, not the main grade site) and they both showed up but said the grades were unavailable until Monday the 19th after 10PM. Okay. Fine. I checked again on Friday the 16th and Sunday the 18th, thinking that maybe if everyone finished early the grades would release sooner. Didn't happen. Both assignments showed up as completed, but I couldn't see the grades. That's fine.
Yesterday (the 19th), I had a final in the morning/afternoon. My last final, specifically. And then I went to the airport to pick my sister up because she's coming to visit for Christmas. I get home at around 11:30 PM. I decide I'm gonna go check on my final grade because I'm curious as to what I got. I log onto the testing site and it says one half of the test wasn't even started.
Um. What the fuck.
I immediately try to go to the completed assessments tab where it fucking said I had finished them both on Wednesday, and I get a 'You Are No Longer Enrolled In This Course' message (meaning the course has been closed for access).
Um. What the fuck.
I try to go back onto my dashboard to where it says the test wasn't even started. I get the same not-enrolled message.
Um. What the fuck.
So at this point it's 11:49 PM and I'm emailing my teacher and on the verge of a panic attack because I have put soooo much fucking work into this stupid fucking class all semester. I did that fucking exam. But guess what? If this situation doesn't get fixed, and she just marks it as incomplete (just like with the first three fucking assignments), my grade goes from a 96% to a fucking 78% because of the way the columns are weighted.
I'm. Just. So fucking exhausted. I feel painfully burnt out. What's the point of trying if I'm just gonna get dicked over again and again? It's barely 7AM so I obviously haven't received a response yet. She said in an announcement earlier on Monday that she's finalizing grades today (the 20th). And I'm fucking terrified that she's just going to ignore my emails like she did at the beginning of the semester. I'm fully prepared to escalate this to the damn department heads if I have to, but I am just,,,, so. tired.
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motherhenna · 11 months
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It's that time of the year where I randomly start obsessing over your Twilight re-imagining again. It's insane how much your art has improved seeing as it was already brilliant to begin with! You've kept such a distinct "you" style while also developing upon it and creating beautiful linework and rendering. I was wondering if there's any more you can share about your Twilight AU. IIRC you mentioned that Carlisle is an antagonist in this project? Would love to hear more!
aw gosh thank you omg yeah I definitely think about it from time to time and play around with different ideas still. One of the big departures I've made from the original is setting it in Alaska, considering it's is still very much a "final frontier" sort of location with a lot of the same aesthetics as the pacific northwest but with the threat of long periods of darkness looming over the characters, and a much more intense feeling of isolation, seeing how rural most communities there are. Another is that it'll be happening in the 90's; partially just because I don't like writing anything contemporary, but also because it would solve some of the plot holes created by the characters having easy access to cell phones and the internet.
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I'm not really the queen of plot, so most of my musings have been on characters and worldbuilding. The main goal with the former is giving them 3 dimensionality: hobbies, goals, fears, flaws, histories, etc. There have been some big character name changes, for one. Isabella Swan > Winona Hawk ; Edward Cullen > Caleb Tynan. Also, Charlie isn't a cop anymore because acab lol he's a park ranger now--that way he'd still have ready access to things like flares, bear spray, and guns, and possess an obvious motivation for getting to the bottom of the mysterious murders that have been taking place in and around the small town of Nadir (a town that doesn't exist irl, but is based off the town Hyder, Alaska).
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The most thought I've put in the Carlisle plot would be that it would be interesting to feature an antagonist who genuinely meant well in the beginning, but gets so swept up in his noble, lofty goals that he becomes monstrous along the way. With the desire to isolate the cause of vampire "immortality", Carlisle transforms "undesirable" patients (ie marginalized or isolated individuals who can go missing without causing an uproar) into vampires before subjecting them to all sorts of inhumane tests and experiments. Not sure where this would lead, but it would be an interesting thing to explore.
Feel free to DM me if you want to chat about any of these things! Most of my ideas are super loose and floaty, as I'm better at prose, character development, and elements of world-building than coming up with cool plots and twists and such. I imagine that if I ever were to write a story like this, it would have to be with a co-author who's better at the technical and plotting elements than I am lol. I also have a pinterest board if you just like the pacific northwest gothic aesthetic haha
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sharkfinx · 11 months
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< @uchihacollector | cont’d > 
      It’s uncomfortable. His dot eyes seek the distraction of the dancing fire that slowly cracked the bonfire’s wood. Before, during his days as a Kiri-nin, there was no need to mingle with any soul. He made sure to exclaim it wherever a too friendly shinobi tried to invite him to dinner. Do not get friendly with me.Many and many times. For his own peace of mind and theirs too. That manner you weren't going to be killed by a friend in the end. Orochimaru was different and like a snake, his sudden strike had cornered him into that shameful state.
      Then there’s his type of silence and long stares, from those equals as his predator’s eyes. Without breaking a sweat. Taunting, Mocking, Judging? What’s the meaning of it? He can’t really read someone else—when he’s the one showing so much. It’s like showing his cards and patiently waiting for the other’s move. 
      Closing his eyes, Kisame enjoyed the warmness that the fire provided. It was comfortable—but not as much would be if he could sink himself for a few hours under a cold river. Under layers the water turned warm as now. I am grateful.       As You Should Be. You damned man. That’s a thing he could never be mad about—his manners really excel from any other member inside that organization. Now that Kisame regained his calm and face flushed down the blood. “I'm delighted.” A simple nod expressing the approval of the compliment. “Caring? Kekeekekeke. I suppose so. ~ Glad to be of service, l’ll keep it in mind.” That would make things easier. The last bit was taken more innocently as a suggestion than anything. He preferred muscles and the bones anyway. A soldier always prefers simple orders to follow rather than thinking for himself.
      “Oh, depends. nee.” Their first mission was simple enough; retrieving info and coming back. A test just to see how they fared as a team. The daimyo’s castle which they planned to spy was just about 8 hours by walking.       “Are you planning for a full attack on the castle or a more subtle visit? If I’m going to fight full head on—it would be better for us to get a full night of sleep. I set alarms up to 6 meters from here it won’t be a trouble for us go at the same time.” As he said before, mission planning would be left at the sannin’s hand for the time being. 
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       “Otherwise I wouldn’t mind taking the first turn on the watch If you wish to sleep right away, Orochimaru san... Miss Konan did warned that you were 90 years old. You need as much sleep as you can, nee.”
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sillymovietrailer · 1 year
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Retro Puppet Master
Ok, let's address the big thing first; yes everyone, playing a younger Andre Toulon in this one, is Mark from The Room himself, Greg Sestero! That's one of the main reasons this one has gotten a bit more attention in recent years, especially since Sestero included a couple of chapters in his book The Disaster Artist, about this one. Now the question is, which is actively the worst of the two films; The Room, or this? Well, this one is certainly a lot less active Incel-y than The Room, has some more endearingly silly ideas, and it wastes a lot less money (Tommy Wiseau infamously blew six million bucks on his flick!), but The Room is more funny-bad and gives a fascinating look into the mind of its creator. I would say, it would be quite the endurance test screening the two in a double bill.
As for the film as a whole, hoo boy, the previous Puppet Masters weren't really great, but this one is a true mess. Now the reason for the "Retro" concept might be down to marketing; Full Moon did licensed action figures, just as the adult market for that really became a bit thing, and they were big sellers. In fact, some say that the reason the company kept going at all was because of how well those things sold in Japan for some reason. So they needed to refresh the line, hence this one having the young Toulon first getting the magic, and with early versions of the Puppets, the 1.0 versions if you will. Of course, all this makes a mockery of the fact we already had flashbacks to this in 2 & 3, and not only does this wreck the continuity again (we've had like three different explanations for Blade's look now!), it looked so much better than this.
Yeah, the previous Puppet Masters were far from blockbusters, with that on occasion peeking in, but none of them feel as cheap as this one does. It mostly takes place around one building, and a train carriage that's clearly just set up in a different bit of the building, it has really tacky cinematography, and there are some horrible early 90s video toaster effects early on. As for the Puppets... oh dear. No David Allen, he already left the series and sadly passed away in 1999, and boy is he missed here. There are moments like at one point, if you watch the version in 4:3 aspect ratio, you blatantly see the hand lifting up one of the puppets! (Hey, since it's Sutekh behind events again, maybe it's Doctor Who's infamous Hand of Sutekh!) There's a lot more I could go on about, like how the Servants of Sutekh (sorry lads, that position is filled!) are complete knock-offs of The Strangers from Dark City, but I think I've said more than this film deserves already to be honest.
Thankfully, there is a way to watch this and actually enjoy the experience; over to you Rifftrax crew!
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