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#this was actually easier to do than i thought
roosterforme · 2 days
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Covering the Classics Part 4 | Bob Floyd x OC
Summary: Anna was afraid to face her new friends after the night out at the bar. Admitting she was attracted to Bob was easier to do than explain why she couldn't have him. When she finally sends him some book recommendations, she finds his taste in books familiar in an all too intimate way. 
Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, eventually 18+
Length: 4700 words
Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)
Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more! Thank you to @mak-32 for the beautiful banner!
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Anna spent the rest of her weekend working on lesson plans and looking at Bob's number saved in her phone. She had compiled a mental list of titles she thought he would like, and she'd even pulled a few dog-eared books from her own collection and stacked them up on her narrow counter. She would absolutely love to have Bob borrow them from her, but she'd completely messed everything up.
Why, when confronted with a decent man, did she shut everything down and destroy all hope? Because of Kevin. That's why. She knew this crush on Bob was a bad idea. Nothing good could come of it, but she still caught herself looking at his contact information on Sunday evening with longing in her heart.
She made herself a sad sandwich for dinner and packed herself a second sad sandwich for lunch the next day and then she settled in with her computer. The idea of taking her sad sandwich to the quad and eating with her friends was making her anxious. What if they didn't even want her around now that she'd made a complete fool of herself in front of their friend? What if they looked up at her as she approached them sitting on the bench with their perfect, beautiful lunches and scowled with their perfect, beautiful faces? 
"Oh no," she groaned, covering her eyes with her hand. She really liked them, but they probably hated her now. And she really liked Bob, but he probably went home with that better looking woman who was at the Navy bar and hadn't thought about Anna one time since. 
She forced her attention to her computer screen which was prompting her for a password. She entered Kev1n1s@t00L and watched as the website she'd had open on her browser came to life. She sighed as she scrolled through her saved favorites on PoetsAmongUs. It was kind of pitiful that she knew what she was going to end up reading before she could actually admit it to herself. Longing whispers in the shadows of my heart, Desire ignites a flame that burns so deep, Devotion woven into every breath I take, Love that knows no boundaries, no end. Passion pulses through my veins like a wild river, Binding me to you in a dance of fire, In this symphony of emotions, we find our truth, A love that transcends time, space, and doubt.
Anna whined from her bed in her sad little apartment as she looked at the pen name of her favorite poet before clicking on it. He either never finished filling out his profile or he was being purposely vague. Male, 30s, United States. 
"Sky Writing. The only man I would trust with my heart ever again." She read the poem once more. That was her favorite passage, but she knew everything he posted by heart and got excited every time something new from him popped up every few months. 
It was late enough that she could probably just go to sleep without acknowledging that she hadn't texted Bob and probably never would. She couldn't set foot back in that bar ever again. Maybe that other place that Jessica loved so much would be somewhere she could check out next time she had nothing better to do. Chippy's or something? She started to doze off.
When her alarm started blaring, it was almost like she had slept too well. She'd dreamed about a faceless man with beautiful hands reading poetry to her while he ran his fingers slowly up and down her bare thigh. She couldn't shake the delicious feeling even as her alarm got louder. When she managed to turn it off, she lay there wishing she had time to go on the poetry website and masturbate before work. 
"Stop it," she whispered as she got up and started getting herself ready for the day. 
At least she got to teach English 522 this afternoon. Feminist Literature was becoming one of her favorite classes, as evidenced by her well worn copy of Carmilla by Sheridan Le Fanu which was in her bag. When she stood in her kitchen and ate a peanut butter granola bar and drank some coffee, she looked at the books she had pulled out as options for Bob, but she shook her head and left for the day without dwelling on how disappointing her life truly was.
Relying solely on public transportation meant leaving a lot earlier than you wanted to, but Anna still barely made it to her office in time to grab her notebook and teach her first lecture of the week. Half of the students still looked like they were asleep while the other half were looking at her like she was a literary messiah. It was almost comical, and when lunchtime rolled around, she was in a pretty great mood. Until she realized she was still on the fence about going to the quad. 
"Just do a vibe check," she muttered as she grabbed her lunch from her office. "If they look pissed off, you can come right back here and never talk to anyone else again for the rest of your life." She could subside on sandwiches and online poetry and only speak when she was giving lectures. That sounded simultaneously amazing and also terrifying.
The college campus was bustling today. There were some guys skateboarding through the quad, and she recognized a few other faculty members from the English department who waved to her. But that didn't stop her palms from sweating and her heart from thudding in a sickening rhythm that Edgar Alan Poe would think was beautiful. When she spotted the two women on the bench in front of the weird tree, Anna was shocked to see them waving to her with smiles on their faces. 
"Anna!" called Jessica. "You'll never believe it! The vending machine just gave me my bottle of Pepsi and a bonus bottle of ginger ale! Like it knew I was about to see you!"
"Chaos Theory at its finest," said the other woman before she bit into her carrot stick and hummus. 
"It's really more of the Butterfly Effect," Jessica replied. Anna had no idea what they were talking about, but they scooted away from each other on the bench to make room, so she decided to stay.
Anna swallowed hard as she sat and opened her pack of peanuts. "How was the rest of your weekend?" she asked the two of them, and soon her nerves calmed down. 
"Excellent. Bradley and I took a tour of the library yesterday."
"Pretty good. I helped Jake make waffles for breakfast. Lots and lots and lots of waffles. What did you do with the rest of your weekend? After the Hard Deck?"
Anna accepted the bottle of ginger ale that Jessica handed to her as she said, "Um, well I did my lesson plans for the next few weeks. And I started writing my midterm exams. Nothing exciting."
She was met with a bit of awkward silence, and she could feel the two women sharing a look behind her head. "Did you happen to text Bob?" Advanced Calculus asked cautiously, and Anna knew this was the part where it was all over. The dramatic climax, except she was actually the villain in this story.
"No, actually. I think that ship has sailed," she replied softly. 
"Why?" Jessica asked, not unkindly. "When we figured out that you and he already met at the bookstore in North Park, we were ecstatic. He's the mystery guy you were losing your mind over, Anna! The handsome one with glasses who smells so good!"
"He really does smell good," Advanced Calculus muttered as she dipped another carrot into the hummus which was probably unfairly homemade. "Are you no longer attracted to him? Was it his nerdy tee shirt? Or were all the guys so obnoxious you couldn't wait to leave?"
Anna held onto the cold bottle of ginger ale a little tighter as she said, "It's not that at all. I mean, who in their right mind wouldn't be attracted to Bob? And I thought his shirt was kind of charming. And the rest of the guys were welcoming in a slightly intense way."
Now Jessica was turned to face her, eyes wide behind her glasses. "Bob thinks you ran away from him twice now because he's unappealing and boring."
Anna jolted and the pack of peanuts went flying to the ground, nuts rolling in every direction. "He does?" she asked, palms beginning to sweat again.
"Yeah. Big time. But he's quite attracted to you. Apparently the red hair is a thing."
"Oh my god," Anna moaned in embarrassment. Bob liked her red hair? "Oh no. No. No. He's just.... he's so.... and he's also.... I can't even." She took a deep breath as she kicked at the lost peanuts. "Bob is so handsome. It's hard to look into his eyes for too long, because you start to feel like you're going to break out into song. And I don't think I've ever been around a man who smells quite that nice. And he's funny and just a touch nerdy, but that's a good thing." 
There was another beat of silence before Advanced Calculus said, "I'm not really understanding what the problem is."
Anna shook her head and unwrapped her sandwich to keep her hands busy. "Listen, none of my weirdness is because of him. It's all because of me. I can't have a crush on him. I can't be interested in him. I can't be interested in any men whatsoever."
Jessica nudged her shoulder and said, "Maybe you could just text him? Maybe making another new friend wouldn't be so bad?"
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"Well if you can't find a girlfriend, I hope you're at least getting your rocks off with an attractive lady."
Bob was cradling his forehead in his hand and trying to escape from Suzanne's house without having this conversation. Whenever he stopped to pick up dinner instead of cooking something at home, he always brought something for her, too. It was the neighborly thing to do, especially when your neighbor was decades older than you, but right now he just wanted to vanish. 
"I wouldn't tell you even if I was," he replied, earning a laugh as she opened up the container of soup at her kitchen table. 
"Sit down and stay for a while," she told him, pointing to the empty chair. "I'll pay you back for dinner with my charm and witticism since you won't accept any money."
His phone started to vibrate in his uniform pocket, and he dug it out thinking it was probably Jessica having finished mocking up her barbarian character for their campaign, but it was a text from an unknown number. He was about to pocket his phone again, but then he saw the words book recommendations and paused. He quickly unlocked the phone and started reading the texts that were coming through.
I have some book recommendations for you if you still want them. I'm sorry I didn't send them over the weekend.
This is Anna, by the way.
I should have started with that information.
Wow. This is already embarrassing.
Bob laughed and started to type back immediately, and then Suzanne's voice cut across his thoughts. "Are you sure you don't have a special lady? You're smiling an awful lot at your phone."
He looked at her and shook his head. "I'm sure. I like this girl, but she doesn't return my feelings that way. She's just sending me some recommendations." He started to back away as he added, "Enjoy your soup. I'll see you later, Suzanne."
"Good night, Robert."
Bob ended up standing just inside his front door as he saved Anna's number and typed back a message to her. He thought keeping it simple would be his best move. Anything more than that and he'd embarrass himself once again by getting ahead of himself with his feelings. 
I would love some more recommendations from you. You're the expert.
He only had to wait about a minute for her response, which was just a list of book after book after book that he'd never even heard of. The first were the ones she'd given to him verbally on Friday night, but the rest were just as foreign to him.
Anna Webber: Persuasion by Austen. Northanger Abbey by Austen, Lady Chatterley's Lover by D. H. Lawrence, The Age of Innocence by Edith Wharton, Far From the Madding Crowd by Thomas Hardy, Mrs Dalloway by Virginia Woolf, Cranford by Elizabeth Gaskell, and The Black Tulip by Alexandre Dumas (because you like poetry so much)
Bob quickly ate his own container of soup while he read the list over and over again. Then without changing out of his uniform, he grabbed the keys to his beat up truck and headed to the bookstore in North Park to see if he could find any of these titles before they closed.
The store was virtually empty, and when he climbed the stairs up to the slightly dusty loft he could practically picture Anna's pretty hands and painted nails gliding along all of the spines. He could imagine her pretty, wide eyes looking up at him before she figured out he was boring. He could hear her laugh as he made his way to the spot where they had been standing together.
That horrible Vonnegut book was still there which made him chuckle. "Figures nobody else would want to read it," he muttered as he reached for it. Then he backtracked a little bit to start collecting everything from Anna's list. He referenced his text messages several times, hunting all over the Classics section until he had almost everything in order. Then he spread them out along the shelf and took a photo. He texted it to her before he could second guess himself after he added a short caption. 
Did I miss anything?
He was walking back down to the poetry section when his phone vibrated.
Anna Webber: You're at the bookstore right now? The one in North Park?
Bob froze in the middle of the stairs. He embarrassed himself without even knowing it. He must seem desperate right now. Running out to the store as soon as she sent him the list. "Shit," he groaned softly. When he got another message, he was almost afraid to look at it.
Anna Webber: I LOVE that store. I wish I were there right now, too.
Bob thought that sounded perfect, actually. Maybe if she were here now, she wouldn't run away this time. He'd been playing those kinds of scenarios over and over in his head, ones where she liked him back the way he liked her. Ones where they left the bookstore holding hands.
He continued downstairs to look for the book of poems she suggested for him, which he found quickly, along with Votive by Keiran Goddard. Would Anna like a copy of his favorite book of poetry? Did he even want to ask her? At this point, he had nothing to lose. She wasn't going to suddenly want him, but that shouldn't stop him from sharing a recommendation of his own. Especially when she might really enjoy something he found so spectacular. 
Bob held the book up and snapped a quick selfie, sending it away into the universe before dwelling on it too much.
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Anna was preparing a piece of toast with jelly for herself or dinner, desperately wishing she were back at the bookstore. Bob was there, probably smelling so nice and luring everyone else who was shopping closer to him. Perhaps he was wearing another Dungeons & Dragons shirt like he'd worn to the Navy bar. Perhaps his biceps were straining against it.
She didn't have to use her vivid imagination for very long, because suddenly Bob was staring at her through her phone screen with his crooked little smile and his beautiful eyes. And his uniform. 
"Oh my god." The toast slipped from her fingers and landed jelly side down on her plate as she took in every single detail. Navy uniforms were khaki? Why had she assumed they were all navy blue? Why didn't she know more about the Navy? She was going to take the time to learn everything she could about the United States Navy. 
When she realized her mouth was dry, she reached for her glass of water and downed it. She was in a daze. A Bob Floyd induced daze. Even all the little pins on his shirt were distracting. She wanted to count all of them. She wanted to touch them. She wondered what they would feel like if she pressed her lips to them. 
"Stop," she gasped. But she couldn't. Now her eyes drifted up to his face again, and she thought she'd only really ever seen the exact color of his eyes in a Kandinsky painting at the Guggenheim. She couldn't look away. "No. No. No!" she moaned. And then she finally read the actual message he'd typed out after gawking at his photo for five whole minutes. 
Bob Floyd: Have you ever read Votive by Keiran Goddard? It's my favorite collection of poetry. 
Anna laughed a little hysterically. She hadn't even noticed he was holding up a book at all. His graceful fingers were wrapped around the damn thing, but she'd been too distracted by him to actually look at the book. But now the fact that she'd never read Goddard before had her flushed and flustered, because Bob had sent a book recommendation to her. Nobody ever did that, and all she could think about was how she absolutely needed to get her hands on a copy and devour the whole entire thing if it was something he liked. 
Very calmly and rationally, she typed back to him.
I have not read it yet, but I'll add it to my list of things to check out of the library. 
When she set her phone down and realized her toast had become a casualty to this text conversation, she moaned and flipped it back over. Her heart was still beating a little erratically from looking at Bob's photo for too long, and she didn't think she could even eat. There was no way she could waste any food in her current financial state though, so she took a bite anyway as he texted her back.
Bob Floyd: I'll just pick it up for you while I'm here. I hope you'll like it, but if you hate it, that's okay too. It's a bit of an acquired taste.
Oh no. She couldn't let him buy it, because she didn't have any extra spending money at the moment to be able to pay him back. But admitting that to him would be excruciatingly embarrassing, and she didn't even think she could do it. Perhaps she could scrape together twenty dollars if she skipped a few meals, but then she wouldn't be able to join the girls in the quad at lunchtime. They'd notice her lack of food right away. 
"Why are you such a disaster?" she asked herself as she scarfed down the rest of her toast and typed back to him.
Thank you. I can pay you back for it later.
She would figure it out. She always did. Even when she didn't want to, she managed to find a way to solve her problems. Even when it hurt.
Bob Floyd: It's my treat. I can give it to Bradley or Jake at work tomorrow. I'm sure either of the ladies wouldn't mind getting it to you when they see you. Or if you feel like it, we could meet for coffee one day and I could give it to you in person. Just let me know.
"Oh, Anna," she whispered, already typing out a response before she could think better of it.
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Bob was surprised Anna took him up on his offer to meet for coffee, but he found himself looking forward to it in spite of the fact that he was still pining a bit. He'd get over it in time. He'd find someone new to crush on, or maybe he'd meet another girl that he was interested in, and maybe she would be interested back. But none of that stopped him from being excited at the prospect of being around her again. And none of that prepared him for the way he felt when Anna pushed through the door of the coffee shop on Wednesday evening and looked around tentatively. Her red hair was in another loose braid, and her freckles were so endearing.
As soon as her eyes landed on him, she looked less apprehensive but also more resigned. When she approached the table where he was sitting with three books, he stood. "Hey. Anna. How are you?"
"Hi, Bob." Even her voice was soft and sweet as her eyes swept along his face and body. She blushed a pretty shade of pink as she said, "Thanks for the book. Will you let me buy you something to drink?"
He didn't respond beyond nodding and leading the way toward the counter. He listened to her order a small coffee before he ordered a large hot tea, and when she reached for her wallet, he was already handing over a twenty. When she looked up at him with wide, brown eyes, he just smiled. "You don't have to buy me a drink."
She watched the money leave his hand as she said, "Well, you don't have to buy me one either."
"Too late."
She was quiet as they returned to the small table with their hot beverages, but as soon as she sat, she said, "You'll have to let me pay next time."
Bob slid two of the books across the table as he asked, "Next time?" But she didn't respond as she let her fingers brush along Votive before she picked it up to reveal the one underneath it.
Anna's laughter filled the small space as her eyes darted back up to meet his. "You bought Cat's Cradle? I didn't think that was the kind of thing you were looking for?"
He glanced down into his tea. "Uh, it's not. I got it for you."
"Bob," she said quietly, her fingers tracing the spine now. He liked her nail polish and wanted to touch her hands. "You did not have to get me two books."
"Yes I did," he said with a smile. "Vonnegut sounds horrible. I felt bad for it because nobody else was ever going to buy it. I couldn't just leave it to rot on the shelf when I know the only person who would be willing to give it a nice home."
When she laughed again, she seemed resigned to the fact that the books were both hers. "Thanks. Money is a little tight for me right now. You know how it is when you first move," she told him while she fidgeted a bit. "But next time, I'll buy your drink. Or your book. Or something."
"You keep saying 'next time'."
Anna poked at her coffee cup and said, "I thought maybe.... we could be friends."
"Friends." His voice felt and sounded stale. The word made him feel sadder than it should have. "Of course."
She looked even more relieved now as she took a sip of her coffee, but Bob was busy trying not to memorize the pretty pattern of her freckles across her nose and the way her lips were pursed. He wouldn't look at a friend that way. 
"Which book is that?" she asked, nodding toward the last one in front of him. 
He flipped it over so she could see the cover, and he said, "Oh, it's The Age of Innocence. I'm almost done reading it, and I was just hoping to get your opinions on a few things."
Anna's eyes went wider. "You're almost done reading it? Already?"
"Yeah." His voice sounded like a groan, and he knew he should be embarrassed since she recommended it two days ago, but he said, "Once I start a new book, I can't put it down if it's good."
"So you like it?" she asked, leaning a little closer to him as a smile played along her lips. 
"It's fantastic," he replied, and her foot brushed his softly beneath the table.
Anna licked her lips and shifted in her seat as she made a soft sound that just made Bob want to get closer to her. She clasped her hands on the table in front of her and cleared her throat before she blurted out. "You're really handsome." His lips parted wordlessly, unsure how to respond, but he didn't have to as she immediately said, "And you're not boring. Not at all. I could have stayed in that dusty bookstore all afternoon, tucked away in the loft, talking to you about book after book."
"Oh," he replied, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Really?"
"Yes. Really," she said, and it sounded like she meant it. "I didn't disappear because of you. I disappeared because of me. And I'm really sorry about that."
Then he realized what was going on. His friends got to her already. He'd told Jessica on Saturday night that he was sure Anna ditched him because he's probably not as handsome or interesting as she's used to. And now he was going to have to text her and tell her to lay off. This whole thing was embarrassing enough without having to hear Anna pity him like this.
"Don't worry about it," he told her softly with his best attempt at a smile. "We can be friends."
When he got home, she texted him to thank him again for the books and the coffee. But he was still thinking about her freckles and how far down her neck they might go. Maybe they made a pretty pattern across her shoulders, too. Maybe they would disappear into her bra, a perfect treasure for another man to find. But not Bob. Bob and Anna were just friends.
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When Anna finally got home after taking two buses, it was so late, she knew she should go right to bed. But she was wishing for another cheap bottle of wine to try to take her mind off of Bob. He was perfect, and she couldn't let herself have him. They could be friends, but nothing more. She could send him texts, but they couldn't flirt. 
She already missed his soft voice and the way he gave her his entire focus when they were together. He bought her two books! Nobody else ever bought her books! And he read the ones she recommended to him! Maybe Kevin was to blame for most things that had gone wrong in her life, but literally no man she'd ever known was as kind and thoughtful as Bob.
She collapsed back onto her bed in her sad apartment were she could look at her kitchen and her bathroom at the same time, and she opened the book of poetry. Bob's favorite poetry. Withing minutes of reading the first few pages, she felt warmer and maybe a little flustered. The passages were romantic and insightful in such a familiar way. Something was tickling at her brain, trying to trigger a memory. She kept reading, making it fifteen pages in before she gasped and realized what it was. 
"Sky Writing," she murmured, reaching for her computer in favor of the book. She was reminded of her favorite novice poet from her favorite website. The poetry in the book sounded a bit like the poems written by Sky Writing, and now Anna was even more of a mess knowing that this was the kind of intimate literature Bob preferred to read. 
She wanted him. She wanted to know what his big, sturdy hands would feel like on her body. What his lips tasted like. She wanted to erase that pinch of doubt she saw on his face when she tried to reassure him that even though they were going to be just friends, she definitely found him attractive. 
The next time she went shopping, she was going to need to stock up on some more bottles of cheap wine.
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Just friends. Okay, Anna. Sure, babe. Let's see how long that lasts. Bob's wingwomen are powerful. Thank you @lauratang for the book/reading list! And thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
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bau-muffin · 3 days
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“Pure Intentions”
Ship: Aaron Hotchner/Reader
Rating: E
Category: Fluff
Word Count: 1,162 Words
Summary: You are an agent who is also spiritual and loves crystals. So, you decide to give your favorite boss man, SSA Aaron Hotchner, black tourmaline.
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Hotch really didn’t know why insomnia had chosen to haunt him on a Sunday night, but he felt the full extent of it when he stepped into the bullpen the next morning. He wasn’t really given to vanity, but he felt like his eyebags were eye-totes now, and even though he had downed a cup of coffee before leaving the house, he felt like if he was still for even a second, he’d fall asleep.
Of course the weekend he had off was when his mind barred him from a good night’s rest- the night before work, no less.
He had not been at his desk for more than ten minutes when you bustled into his office, your smile wide as usual despite being almost eight in the morning.
“Good morning! I was going to wait closer to lunch, but then Penelope told me a case came in, so I decided to give this-“ you stopped to actually look at him, and even though an amused smile was pulling at his lips, he looked so exhausted. “I’m so sorry, I should have asked how you were doing first.”
“I’m not sick, just tired,” Hotch said kindly, “what do you have?”
“Black tourmaline! I know you’re not much of a spiritualist, but the low down on it is that it sponges up negative energy! And I mean… I know you don’t exactly have a choice, you know, to be or not to be around negative energy but…” you shrugged before admitting, “It also reminded me of you too. Also, again I know you don’t put huge stock into it, but I also charged it for you.”
You put the shiny black chunk on his desk, almost shyly. He picked it up, studying it and turning it over in his hands. You half expected him to pull his reading glasses out to look at it, and if he had- well, you couldn’t rightly be held responsible for the noise you might have made.
“This reminds you of me?” Hotch asked skeptically, his brows knitted slightly.
“Mhm! It’s a bodyguard type crystal. And… I guess you have that sort of… vibe? To me anyways,” you added on a little less than tactfully as you were visibly becoming fidgety, your hands smoothing down your skirt.
“You see me as the bodyguard type.”
You put your hands on your hips, an eyebrow raising. “Did you or did you not become overprotective when I said that my car alarm was going off in the parking lot and you insisted on stealthily going towards the car first with your pistol? Or did I hallucinate that?”
“I’ve seen some things in my time, and I know malevolent people would target a woman who’s alone when she’s leaving her workplace,” Hotch said defensively. You only smiled.
“Whatever you say. Regardless, that’s for you. Maybe, one day, I’ll get a keychain for you.”
“Thank you, that was… actually thoughtful and sweet of you. You’re right that I don’t put a whole lot of stock into this… sort of thing,” he admitted as he turned the crystal over in his palm again, “but I think… I think the weight of intentions are real.”
“Maybe those intentions will carry you home safe from this case, then. Judging from the groaning sounds coming from Garcia’s cave, I’m thinking it’s a doozy. By the way…”
“Mm?”
“Do you want me to make you a cup of coffee before you go in to briefing?”
“That would be wonderful of you, thank you. One sugar-“
“-and no cream. I know how you make your coffee, Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner,” you teased.
Hotch shook his head. “The full government name.”
You turned to walk out when he called your name, and you turned back to him.
“Can you come to my desk for a second?”
You complied, going to his desk with a nervous giggle. You thought he was going to speak, but instead he simply rose from his seat and kissed your cheek.
You touched your flushing cheek with a slightly shaky hand. “What was that for?”
He shrugged. “Just a thank you for being as thoughtful as you are. Truly… you make working here a bit easier.”
“Aw, you’re going to make me cry, so I’ll laugh instead.” You were going to turn to flee, but boldness filled you and you leaned up to kiss his cheek, except he moved, and you kissed the corner of his stern lip.
“Uh-” you backed away from him.
“Don’t panic,” Hotch ordered calmly- almost too calmly- “it’s not your fault, it was mine for reacting too quickly.”
Your cheeks flushed hot red and despite his command to not panic, you immediately fled the scene, leaving behind a confused but slightly amused Aaron.
A few minutes later, JJ entered his office with his cup of coffee in one hand and sat it on his desk, the other arm full of file folders. She gestured with her head towards the bullpen, “Hey, um, Agent-“
“I know,” Hotch said with a minuscule smirk, sipping the coffee, and almost immediately moaned aloud. True to your word, you knew exactly how he takes his coffee. He kept glancing towards the crystal sitting on his desk, and when Garcia called for him to come to the briefing room, he carefully slid it in his pocket.
On the jet, after all the details of the case had been discussed, Hotch leaned back in the chair, his fourth cup of coffee of the day in his hand. Even though he made his coffee exactly the same as always, it didn’t taste nearly as good as the one you made for him. He took the black tourmaline out of his pocket and held it in his hand. It works on a jet, right? It’s closer to the sun, it has to be like the best charging method.
“What do you have there?” Rossi asked from across him, looking up from a book- a compilation of Garfield comic strips over the years.
“A crystal. I think it’s… black tourmaline?”
Reid, of course, overheard this and had to jump in with, “you know, within pagan and spiritual circles, black tourmaline has protective properties, banishing negative vibrations, and it’s also supposed to be grounding.” He looked at the crystal in Hotch’s hand. “Oh yeah, I’ve seen this crystal on that agent’s desk. She and Anderson talk about them all the time, and apparently she keeps some of them in her desk, as does Anderson.”
“She and Anderson are good friends,” Hotch volunteered. “She’s the one who gave this to me.”
“She’s a sweet girl,” Rossi commented, sounding too innocent for Hotch’s liking.
“She is,” Hotch agreed simply, not taking the bait.
He and “that agent” were going to have to have a conversation when he got back home- he was entirely too intrigued by you. Perhaps he could ask you what crystal was the best for asking someone on a date.
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m4tthewmurd0ck · 3 days
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IN EVERY UNIVERSE
── Azriel x Fem!Reader
(i try to be as non descriptive as possible but do use she / her, and mention reader being shorter than all the guys.)
CHAPTER ── INTRODUCTION
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Ever since you were little, books have been your escape. Whether it was needing to get away from a bad day at school or an immature fight with a friend when you were a kid, or a rough day at work as you got older, reading allowed you to temporarily forget all of that.
You imagine what the characters might look like, you dream up scenarios for them that don’t happen in the books. And like so many others who do the exact same thing, you can’t help but wish characters were real so that they could sweep you off your feet. Ugh, what you wouldn’t give to have a certain one-armed super soldier call you doll.
You thought the MCU was where you wanted to exist the most… and then you were introduced to ACOTAR.
It didn’t take long at all for you to become another one of the many girls to fall for Azriel. You dreamt of what he might look like. And of course, knew he’d fall in love with you. Would you guys follow the enemies-to-lovers trope? Childhood best friends turned significant others? Or would it be a love-at-first sight moment for the shadowsinger, who would do everything in his power to get you to notice him? The answer depended on your mood, of course.
As much as you loved to fantasize, you also knew you had to be realistic. Azriel didn’t actually exist, at least not in your world.
One night, you even go so far as to convince yourself that all the hopeless dreaming had to stop. From that moment on, you’d still enjoy books, but you wanted to do your best to stop imagining a life for yourself in worlds you’d never get to visit.
It’s definitely easier said than done, but you go to bed that night confident that it’s the right thing to do.
Only, when you wake up the next morning… something is off. This isn’t your bedroom. The clothes you’re wearing, you’ve never seen before. And why does the man that has just entered your room look exactly like how you pictured Azriel?
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i am so excited for this!!! this will have multiple parts. i have the entire general plot mapped out from start to finish BUT am unsure of how many chapters there’ll be in total. sometimes i picture a chapter being short but then it ends up being way longer.
IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE ADDED TO THIS SERIES TAGLIST, LET ME KNOW! (you can specify just this series, or all things Azriel)
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infin1ty-garden · 1 day
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MEMORIES MAKE EVERYTHING SO DIFFICULT
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⋆。°✩ summary: where you fake amnesia to get out of a fight with your enemy and he lies and tells you'd been dating for a year ⋆。°✩ character(s): draco malfoy, theodore nott, mattheo riddle, enzo berkshire and blaise zabini ⋆。°✩ warnings: meantion of injury ⋆。°✩ word count: 644 ⋆。°✩ author note: this is my first time writing for the harry potter fandom. so, sorry if the characters are ooc
masterlist.
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DRACO MALFOY
⋆。°✩ Draco found out through a friend you'd gotten amnesia, he immediately went to find you. Stating he was so worried you'd gotting injured by a gryffindor no less.
⋆。°✩ When you expressed confusion over who he was, the lie slipped out. "Your boyfriend."
⋆。°✩ You dismissed his suggestion of visiting the hospital wing. He decided to patch you up himself.
⋆。°✩ This act went on for a while. He didn't know why. He wasn't in love with you. Was he?
⋆。°✩ He told you he lied about being your boyfriend and understood if you never wanted to speak to him. You made an admission of your own. How you don't have amnesia and remember everything.
⋆。°✩ "The love I have for you is real."
THEODORE NOTT
⋆。°✩ The hole time you talking about how you don't remember him, he was just smirking at you. That's when he proclaimed you were dating him.
⋆。°✩ Since forever he'd been in love with you but you'd always treated him like a enemy. When the opportunity presented itself, he wasn't gonna waste it.
⋆。°✩ He didn't make a big show of dating you. Wanting to make the gestures more intimate and personal but also easier for him when it blows up in his face.
⋆。°✩ When you finally told him you'd lied about the amnesia, he didn't speak to you for a while. You thought that was it but he'd cornered you asking if everything you'd said was a lie as well.
⋆。°✩ He'd falled deeper in love then he ever has and the thought of you not reciprocating those feelings crushes him.
MATTHEO RIDDLE
⋆。°✩ Mattheo didn't believe you as soon as the words left your mouth. He decided to fuck around to see how far you'll take it
⋆。°✩ Saying how you'd been together for the better part of the year and "How could you not remember me?" bullshit
⋆。°✩ You both went along with it. At the same time, Mattheo stopped flirting and sleeping around. What a weird turn of events? Why would he do that?
⋆。°✩ You played along for a time but decided to tell him the truth. "I know. You're not as good at lying as you think."
ENZO BERKSHIRE
⋆。°✩ As soon as the words left his mouth, he felt horrible. Why did he feel so bad? He was supposed to hate you.
⋆。°✩ Still he never corrected himself and proceeded to take you on many many dates
⋆。°✩ Pretending to be your boyfriend was a lot more enjoyable than he thought it would be. Was he falling in love with you? No way!
⋆。°✩ Enzo knew he was lying to himself but it was better than admitting what he already knew
⋆。°✩ You went on all kinds of dates. His friends noticed the change as he was a lot more happy and made fun of him for it.
⋆。°✩ One of your friends accidentally mentioned you had lied to him. At first he was furious but he'd lied to you as well.
BLAISE ZABINI
⋆。°✩ Blaise is not some one who makes fun of medical conditions but...
⋆。°✩ He introduced himself as your boyfriend and for the last few months his feelings of hate had turned into love
⋆。°✩ He was going show you how good of a boyfriend can he be and maybe just maybe you'll fall for him as he had for you
⋆。°✩ It doesn't take him long to realise that you'd lied but he goes along with it. Ignoring obvious signs of you actually retaining your memory.
⋆。°✩ He was his happiest when hanging out with you and he knew his feelings were real. He hoped you'd realise yours were too.
⋆。°✩ Unable to lie to him anymore you told him the truth. How you lied and love him. His answer? Kissing you.
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Thanks for reading!
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alltheirdamn · 8 hours
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Killing Me Softly | (Joel Miller x teacher!f!reader)
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Chap. 1 : Your Name
Series Summary: You've nursed a broken heart for two years, and you didn’t think you’d ever love again. Chap. 1 Summary: When you catch the eye of your students' dad at a school dance, he starts showing up everywhere. Rating: 18+ MDNI (for the future smut) Word Count: 6.8k Warnings: pre-outbreak AU, age gap (joel is 36 reader is 27), no smut (yet), sexual tension, flirting, pining, mentions of alcohol, language, angst, reader's last name is 'Smith' for no other purpose than the fact she is a teacher A/N: This will definitely be a slow-burn fic, so please hang tight!! Tropes include: second chance at love, strangers to lovers, secret relationship, etc. I'm actually so excited about this one, so I hope you guys stick around to see where it goes :')
Masterlist
PROLOGUE
You never thought you’d be the girl sitting at the steps of an abandoned altar with your wedding dress covered in mud from the rain.
 Just minutes before you were supposed to take your first steps down the aisle, your fiancé fled. You watched the blur of his suit in the distance as he ran through the rain and left your family and friends in shock. Motionless at the back of the rows of chairs, you dropped your bouquet and stood in heartbreaking silence as the cords of the violins faded into the air. Your parents and siblings swarmed around you, trying to break the paralysis that kept your eyes locked on the vacant spot under the archway and steps of what would have been the place you said your vows. You still had them in your hand; the words scribbled neatly on a folded paper torn from your journal. You’d never get the chance to say those words aloud; he never would have deserved them, anyway. 
The ring sat heavily on your finger now as you watched it glisten under the pelting rain. Your dress clung to your body in layers of silk and lace, a taunting reminder of who you had become for a man unworthy of your love and devotion. 
Five years together, all stripped away in a matter of minutes. 
You’d never love again. 
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“Everyone’s gotta do it,” Maria sighed as she stood at the student drop-off with you.
By ‘it,’ she meant chaperoning the father-daughter dance later in the week, which you seriously wanted no part of. You had been through enough school dances in your three years working at the middle school, and you were tired of watching pre-teens grinding on each other to god-awful music. You had better things to do with your Friday nights, like sitting on the couch with a pint of ice cream and a horror movie playing in the background—you’d sworn off rom-coms long ago.
“Yeah, I know,” you grumbled, waving another line of kids across the road. 
You watched as they trudged across the crosswalk with their backpacks slung over their shoulders, eyes bright and broad at the realization school was over for the day. If only they were that chipper in class, maybe you’d have an easier time teaching them how to write three-point essays. 
Maria chirped goodbye to each one as they passed, her cheeks pinched with a fake smile only you could recognize. You knew she loved the kids but loved the final school bell even more. You, on the other hand, hated it. The end of school was just another reminder that you’d go back to an empty home and an empty life. 
Two years had passed since Bennett ran from your wedding ceremony—two years without closure or an answer. By the time you had pieced yourself together and returned home from the would-have-been ceremony, his things were gone, and the house filled with the ghost of his presence. Your in-laws went radio silent, avoiding all calls and emails from you until they eventually moved out of state and changed numbers. The hours leading up to the ceremony would forever be a mystery as to why he left, and you would spend the rest of your life fighting for an answer as to why you weren’t good enough to love. 
Dragging you from your thoughts, Maria bumped you with her hip, giving you a concerned look. You shook away the memories and returned her stare with a fake smile you had mastered over the last two years. You couldn’t even remember the last time you had genuinely smiled or laughed without feeling the force of a facade washing over you. Concealing the pain of it all made it easier; maybe if you believed you were okay, you’d start feeling okay. But you never did. Not even the countless hours of therapy had helped reconcile the person you once were. Bennett had left and taken every vulnerable part of you with him, leaving nothing but a raw and broken shell in his wake. 
“You’re doing it again,” Maria scolded. 
“Doing what?” You asked, already aware of the answer.
“Wallowing. You really should get back out there again.”
You focused on the next grouping of kids setting out to cross the street, your hand instinctively coming up to hold the passing cars at a standstill. You plastered on a fake smile as they waved goodbye to you, and you glanced back at Maria once they finally stepped foot on the next sidewalk.
“I’m not interested,” you stated. “I’m fine on my own.”
Her eyebrow lifted as if challenging your blasé response. Your answer always remained the same, yet Maria relentlessly attempted to change your mind.
“You’ve got to at least try. What if there’s already someone out there just waiting for you?”
“Maria, I promise no one is waiting for me.”
“I wish you’d just give it a shot. You deserve to be happy.”
You had heard that phrase often over the last couple of years; a pitying tone always accompanied the words. People loved to soothe you with words that held no weight or purpose. You learned to nod along to their sympathies and turn a deaf ear to their suggestions of what you deserved. 
The final round of kids made their way toward the line of parents waiting in their cars, and you followed Maria back to your classrooms to clean up before leaving for the day. Her words stuck with you on the quiet drive home; the radio wasn’t enough to drown out that taunting voice in your head reminding you that you’d never be enough. 
Your single-story house was nestled into an older neighborhood of Austin, only a handful of miles from the middle school. You’d argue that the house was the best thing to come out of the failed engagement; its personality stood firm against the other houses with a vibrant shade of blue painted over its wooden panels and wrap-around porch. You spent the last few months sprucing up the front yard, planting rose bushes and trees to liven up the house. It hadn’t fixed all your problems but pacified them temporarily as you dirtied your hands in the soil. 
It became second nature to shut your garage immediately after putting your car in park. You didn’t want the typical neighborly interactions or shallow conversations. You were content with living between closed doors and drawn curtains. The less of an interaction with the world, the better. 
Dropping your purse and work bag on the kitchen counter, you sunk onto a barstool, staring blankly at the fridge and knowing all too well there was hardly anything inside it. You’d settle for another frozen meal and glass of wine, a typical meal these days to satisfy a hunger you no longer had. Despite the colorful kitchen cabinets, the mustard yellow couch in the living room, and the obscure wallpaper…your life was dull. How could one person suck out all the energy from another human being? How could pain last this long? 
You stabbed a fork into the TV dinner meal before you and wondered if you’d ever feel happy again. 
**
You managed to survive another week of teaching, only to now be standing in the shadows of the school gymnasium, nursing an overly sweet fruit punch. The PTA had done a decent job of turning the space into a somewhat realistic dance floor: string lights hung corner to corner of the ceiling, a DJ booth in the center of the basketball court, and colorful balloons circled the air. You spotted a few of your students dancing with their fathers, their eyes squeezed shut from their too-wide smiles and bubbling laughter. A foreign ache in your chest reminded you how you would have had a father-daughter dance at your wedding. Your father even took it upon himself to brush up on dance lessons to sway you across the floor to some overly emotional song. As corny as it was, you had been looking forward to that moment throughout your engagement. 
“Look who got all dolled up!” Maria hollered as she strolled over, fruit punch in hand.
“I would hardly call this dolled up,” you said, tugging at the hem of your dress.
You only had a handful of dresses in your closet, this particular one being a flowy black cocktail dress with a halter top and ruffled skirt. It was barely passing the school dress code, so you decided to pair it with a low kitten heel to try and deter the admin’s scrutiny. You did, however, spend a little more time than usual on your makeup and hair, hoping if you looked pretty, then maybe you’d feel it, too.
“You’re too hard on yourself,” Maria sighed.
“You look great,” you said, sidestepping her lecture.
Maria had chosen a plum floor-length maxi dress decorated with embroidered blue flowers. Her curly hair was pinned in a bun, and several sparkly barrettes were clipped to the side. Her makeup was no different from usual: a rosy red lip and simple mascara with a hint of blush on her cheeks. 
“Really, Maria. You do.”
“Well, thank you,” she blushed, looking back toward the room full of bodies dancing.
Your eyes followed hers, settling on the duos as they swayed to a slow song. Every father was dressed up in some sort of button-up or the occasional suit except for one—the same one who happened to be twirling around your student, Sarah Miller. You nudged Maria, pointing secretly at them with a questioning glance.
“Is that her dad?” You asked.
He wore a basic cotton T-shirt, jeans, and dirty work boots. There was barely any thought behind his appearance as if he had rolled up to the school right after a long shift at work, forgoing any effort or care. Some part of you hated him for it. The least he could do was get dressed up for a silly school dance, especially when Sarah wore a lavender tulle dress that complimented her olive skin tone. 
“Yup,” Maria elongated the word. “That’s Joel Miller.”
“Sure looks like he doesn’t care to be here,” you grumbled.
Maria barked a laugh, looking at you through narrowed eyes.
“As opposed to you?” She questioned. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but weren’t you bitching about this dance all week long?”
“Well, at least I put some effort into my looks tonight,” you defended.
You glanced back at Sarah, seeing her father twirl her one last time. You caught a glimpse of his face for the first time in the flow of his movements. Messy dark curls framed his head, curling in every which way as if he’d run his hand through them a million times. Even from a distance, you could see the patchy beard and short mustache covering the lower half of his face, alongside the several creases around his eyes as he smiled.  And his eyes… They looked like big brown saucers under the lights, reflecting a genuine softness as he watched his daughter dance. 
And then they snapped up to meet your gaze through the crowd as if you had silently called out to him. Everything slowed around you for a moment as he studied you from afar, his eyes drifting down your body and back up with a hint of a smile teasing his lips. A rush of heat crawled up your neck, and you broke the eye contact between you. Maria cleared her throat beside you, tearing you away from the man holding your sincere interest. 
“What was that?” Maria chirped. 
You shook your head, glancing between her curious face and the dancefloor. Joel had since moved on, steering Sarah toward the refreshment table. He never once looked back at you, which left you unexplainably disappointed. For a moment in time, someone looked at you and saw you. 
“I–I don’t know,” you stuttered. “Probably nothing.”
“It looked like something.”
You turned to face Maria, a scowl twisting up your lips entirely. You were tired of her pushing nonexistent things on you, and that’s what this was— nonexistent. Whatever moment between you and Joel had gone as quickly as it came. You were done with the night and standing among so many cheerful people. You couldn’t stand it any longer. 
“I think I’m going to take off,” you announced, placing your half-drunk fruit punch on the table behind you. 
Maria was defeated, knowing you'd still leave no matter what she said. Stalking out of the gymnasium, you grabbed your purse from the teacher's booth and booked it to your car with your heels in your hands. You carefully walked along the sidewalk toward your car, catching a conversation drifting through the wind between the other vehicles. 
“...Dad, you promised we’d watch movies tomorrow!”
“I know, sweetheart, but Uncle Tommy needs help on the job sight.”
You hid between two cars, listening to their voices bounce back and forth. It wasn’t until you peeked out to see the two figures that you realized it was Sarah and her father, Joel. For fucks sake. You tiptoed around the car's bumper beside you, attempting to make a getaway before either of them saw you. You must have done a terrible job because Sarah called your name as you edged closer to your car.
“Miss Smith!”
“Shit,” you muttered to yourself. 
With your purse in one hand and heels in the other, you turned toward them with your rehearsed fake smile. Sarah was standing beside her dad—Joel—a small smile shining up at you. You knew her usual upbeat personality in class, always laughing and joking with other kids. She was an A+ student, too, and her work showcased her smartness. But in her father's shadow, a distinct sadness clouded her eyes. 
“Hello, Sarah! How did you like the dance?” You asked. 
“It was really fun,” she grinned, forcing her smile wider. You saw through it. 
“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
Joel cleared his throat, extending a large hand toward you. You blinked at his open palm, afraid of making that same startling eye contact as you had in the gymnasium. Shuffling your purse into your other hand, you took his into yours, focusing on the warmth of his grip crawling up your skin. His fingers dwarfed your own, tightening around your hand until you were forced to look up finally. 
“S’nice to finally meet you, Mrs. Smith,” he said, his thick Southern accent shining through.
“Miss Smith,” you corrected. It was hard to hide the bitterness in the statement. 
“Miss Smith,” he echoed. “I’m Joel, Sarah’s dad.”
His eyes still hadn’t left yours, their piercing stare making you shiver despite the September humidity. You pulled your hand away, overly aware of how his fingers lingered a moment too long. Shifting your weight from one leg to another, you were starting to feel the asphalt dig into the soles of your feet. 
“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Miller,” you replied.
“Joel,” he insisted.
You nodded politely, giving him another faltering smile. Hauling your purse over your shoulder, you said a soft goodbye to them and bolted to your car. In the confines of the driver's seat, you rested your head against the wheel, inhaling deeply as you steadied the nerves inside your body. Why did such a simple interaction light up your body with emotions you had spent so long suppressing? And why did Joel’s smile haunt you even when your eyes were shut?
Forcing your keys into the ignition, you tore out of the school parking lot and back to the confines of your tiny blue home. 
The weekends were usually filled with nothing more than grading papers and lesson planning. The coffee beside you on the kitchen counter had gone cold hours ago as the morning sunlight faded into the afternoon. Through tired eyes, you glanced up at the oven clock: 2 pm. You needed a break from reading through piles of essays, and your fridge desperately required replenishing. Grabbing your keys off the counter, you forfeited any plans of changing out of your sweat set and headed to the supermarket.
The packed parking lot and crowded store were daunting reminders of why you typically decided to leave your fridge vacant. But as you pushed your shopping cart down each aisle, you had no choice but to comply with your basic human needs and stock up on miscellaneous food you would want throughout the week. Rounding down the next aisle, your eyes caught on a tall figure standing in front of the bakery section, his face scrutinizing every cake in the display case. Shit. 
You tried—and failed—to maneuver your way into the next aisle, somehow crashing into an older woman’s cart, forcing her carton of eggs to fall and smash onto the linoleum floor.
“Dammit,” you hissed, crouching down to try and help them clean up the shattered eggshells.
“S’alright, sweetheart,” she assured. “I’ll just holler for a worker to come clean it up.”
“No, I—I can help,” you stammered, fingers still running over the broken yolks spreading across the floor.
“Miss Smith?” You heard a deep voice above you.
Your head snapped up to see Joel standing above you; his forehead creased with concern. The woman you had crashed into was already down the next aisle looking for a store employee, leaving you alone with a mess you had caused. Joel crouched beside you, his hands folding over yours to slow your frantic cleaning.
“It’s alright, I got it!” You snapped, pulling your hands back.
“Just tryna’ help,” he said. “That’s all.”
“It’s my fault. I can fix it.” 
You had said those words to yourself many times before, and never once did they prove true. 
“Someone will come and clean this up; you ain’t gotta do all that,” Joel said softly. “C’mon.”
He offered a hand, which you took reluctantly, leaving you both standing awkwardly in front of the mess. You shifted your gaze downward, too afraid to meet those deep brown eyes that had plagued you the night before. 
“Hey,” Joel said in a soft tone. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” you mumbled.
“Doesn’t seem like it.”
You huffed a sigh, gripping the handles of your cart to start moving. Today was going downhill rapidly, and you only wanted to go home and hole yourself away…like you always did.
“I, uh, was tryna’ pick out a birthday cake,” he rambled. “S’my birthday tomorrow, and Sarah wants to make sure I have a cake, ya’know? Any ideas on what she might like? I’m not sure if y’all ever have parties at school with sweets and all that.”
Your eyes snapped to his, a scowl forming on your face. Sarah’s dad was asking you what she liked? He was proving to be worse and worse by the second. But you were her teacher and needed to hold your tongue.
“I’m sure she’ll enjoy anything,” you said, a tight smile forming. “Happy birthday, Mr. Miller.”
His eyebrows furrowed together, clearly seeing through the mask you put on. It was infuriating how easily he had wove his way through your bloodstream, even in just twenty-four hours. 
“Joel,” he insisted. “You don’t need to do all that formal stuff.”
“I kind of do,” you laughed. “You’re my students’ father; that’s how I’m supposed to address you.”
“S’all I’m sayin’ is that you’re free to call me Joel. No harm in it.”
There was a lot of harm in it. 
You didn’t know what else to say, so you dipped your head to say goodbye and pushed your cart past him. You weren’t being the kindest nor the most respectful person, but your anger was at a low simmer. Any longer around him, and you might explode. You weren’t used to someone getting under your skin like he was. And the worst part was that he wasn’t even trying. You couldn’t understand why you reacted so strongly. 
“Miss Smith!” Joel called, catching up as you moved down the next aisle.
You inhaled and stopped walking, mustering another fake smile to appease him. He gripped the side of your cart with a large hand, a simple gesture to keep you firmly in place. Clearly, he decided when the conversation was over.
“Yes, Mr. Miller?”
“Did I do somethin’ to upset you? ‘Cause I swear, I didn’t mean anything inappropriate by what I said back there. 
“No, no, you’re fine,” you lied. “Just having a bad day, that's all.” That wasn’t a lie.
Joel ran a hand over his neck, studying you quietly for a moment. Something about the atmosphere around him was intoxicating and so fucking dangerous. 
“Well, I’m sorry ‘bout that. Guess I was just tryna’ make small talk, and clearly, I ain’t doin’ a good job.”
“It’s fine—no need for apologies. I hope the cake and birthday celebration go well. I’m sure Sarah will tell me all about it on Monday.”
His eyes shifted over you again, lingering on your lips, set in a firm smile. You tried your best to hide the shiver that ran up your back as he drank you in. 
“Y’probably think I’m a terrible dad, huh?” He sighed.
“What?” You blinked away the thoughts swarming your head.
“I mean, I know you probably heard us arguin’ last night, and I’m out here asking her teacher what her favorite kind of cake is. You ain’t gotta be polite about it. I know I’m not doin’ the best job,” he confessed.
“Mr. Miller, I don’t think that at all. I just think maybe asking your wife would be more helpful than asking me.”
That garnered a laugh from him, a genuine and sincere laugh.
“Never had a wife to begin with. Sarah’s mom left us when she was only a year old,” he explained. “Been doin’ it all on my own.”
“Oh.” Dammit, you really were a bitch. 
“Trust me, I get it. I could do a better job, bein’ a dad and all that. I’m tryin’.”
“I think you’re doing just fine,” you said. “I’m sorry I didn’t know.”
He brushed it off, replacing the sad look cresting his eyes with a lopsided grin. You wanted to hate it, but your body reacted traitorously. You felt the softness in his gaze crawl over you, slowly replacing the anger coursing through your veins with something else…something you hadn’t felt in a long time. No one had looked at you that way since—well, since Bennett. Even if Joel was only being friendly, you were drawn to the charm he exuded. Dangerous, you reminded yourself.
“Anyway,” he continued. “I won’t hold ya’ up any longer. I hope your day gets better, Miss Smith.”
“Thank you,” you replied. “And Happy birthday, again.”
Joel’s eyes settled on your lips again as you talked, and you felt your cheeks warm under his gaze. His eyes flicked back up to yours, a flash of something behind them, and you were ready to bolt. He muttered a thank you and left you standing in a vacant aisle, your hands still covered in egg yolks and your mind reeling.
**
It was hard to maintain your good mood once Monday rolled around. Seeing Sarah sitting in class was an unwelcome reminder of your interaction with Joel on Saturday, and you had to refrain from overstepping boundaries and asking about his birthday. She didn’t need to know you cared, even though you struggled not to care. You wondered what kind of cake he decided on, how old he turned if he blushed when she sang Happy Birthday. Every thought burned a hole in your head that you tried to patch up and forget. 
The final bell rang for the day, and the kids began to pack up in a rush. You straightened out the papers lining your desk, avoiding eye contact with Sarah as she slung her backpack over her shoulders and lined up to leave. Grabbing your whistle and bottle of water, you followed them toward the front gates, taking your usual place alongside Maria—who was overly chipper for a Monday.
“Soooo,” she prodded. “How was your weekend?”
“Uneventful,” you lied, walking with her to the crosswalk. 
“You really need to go out and have fun! You’re young, and you need to enjoy your 20s!” She exasperated. 
“Maria, I’m 27,” you groaned. “My 20s are practically over.”
She folded her arms over her chest, leveling you with a heavy glare. Maria was in her late 40’s and clearly exuded a motherly-type attitude. You shifted your focus to the kids crossing the road, watching as they reunited with their parents. 
“We go out on Wednesdays for Happy Hour! Join us this week,” she suggested.
“I don’t know,” you sighed.
“Come on!” Maria pressed. “If you hate it, I’ll never ask you to go out with us again.”
There was no point in arguing with her, so you relented and agreed to one night out. A few drinks and hours of mindless conversation could be good for you. It would be better than sitting in front of the TV with a bland meal and another glass of wine.
You managed to evade all thoughts of Joel somehow the next two days, putting all your time and energy into prepping your students for their first test of the year. Lesson planning and preparation took up your free period and late evenings, leaving you little room to think about those brown eyes and disarming smile. It was Wednesday evening, and you were knee-deep in your closet, trying to find an outfit for Happy Hour. You had changed at least five times, discarding every top and skirt onto your bedroom floor. Eventually, you gave up, settling on tight jeans, a flowy red blouse, and black flats. You left your hair in wavy curls over your shoulders and simple makeup to balance everything out. 
The group took their Happy Hour rituals to a local dive bar on the outskirts of town, a row of motorcycles and trucks lining the entrance. You felt a bit out of place walking into a smoke-hazed bar, with the patron's wandering eyes crawling over you, but you quickly picked out the huddle of teachers in the corner laughing over a round of beers. They welcomed you with bright smiles and hellos, offering to buy your first drink. After about an hour and a few drinks, you felt warm and far more relaxed. Conversations about quarterly goals and admin meetings flowed over the table, each teacher complaining about something. You chimed in when necessary, keeping quiet when you had nothing to contribute. You were on your fourth beer when the girls around you started whispering low about a group of men entering the bar. You stole a peek over your shoulder, eyes settling on the last person you wanted to see. 
Joel Miller.
He had on his usual simple work attire, the fabric of his cotton shirt stretched out over his broad chest. His neck was tanned, most likely from working outdoors, and his hair was just as unruly as you remembered. The man beside him, shorter but with similar features, clapped Joel on the back and steered him towards the bar. You lowered your head, taking a longer gulp of your drink to try and steady your nerves. Of all fucking places, he had to be here. 
“He’s just so handsome, isn’t he?” Maria nudged you, tossing back a look towards Joel.
You shrugged, feigning disinterest. Joel was handsome, but no one needed to know how you felt. Because what you felt was very, very confusing. 
“He’s my students’ father, Maria.”
She rolled her eyes, swirling the contents of her drinks before taking a sip. 
“Okay, and? There’s nothing inappropriate about dating a student’s parent.”
“Yes, there is,” you snapped. “And I’m not even considering dating him.”
“But you think he’s attractive,” she stated.
You didn’t want to respond to that, knowing the warmth in your cheeks was already enough of a giveaway. If you shrunk far enough into yourself, you might go unrecognized the rest of the night.
Maria thankfully dropped the subject, returning to the conversation around the table. After another hour, the ladies started to trickle out of the bar and home for the night. You, on the other hand, still had to wait a bit longer until the alcohol phased out of your body. Which meant you were sitting alone in the same space as Joel. You could feel his eyes on your back the longer you sat there, and to your detriment, decided to steal a glance over your shoulder. Joel’s eyes raked over your body, returning your stare with a soft, welcoming smile. Shit.
You watched as he slipped off the barstool, waltzing towards you with a beer clasped in his large hand. You tried so hard not to notice his thick fingers wrapped around the bottle, and you most definitely tried not to think of what his fingers would feel like inside—
“Miss Smith,” he greeted, silencing your awful thoughts.
“Mr. Miller,” you said.”
“Are all these formalities necessary in a bar?” he teased. 
“A couple of drinks won’t change my mind.”
Joel slid into the seat beside you without an invitation, his arm brushing against yours as he settled into the stool. It was instinct to flinch away, afraid of the reaction his touch would cause to your body. 
“What will change your mind?” he pressed, keeping a steady gaze on you.
“Nothing,” you shrugged, deciding to change the subject. “How was your birthday?”
Joel ran a hand through his hair, that stupid lopsided grin forming on his lips. 
“Can’t say I love gettin’ old, but celebratin’ was sure nice.”
“And how old are you, Mr. Miller?”
“Ripe age of thirty-six, Miss Smith,” he grinned. 
“What cake did you choose?” you asked, watching him take a long sip of his beer. 
“Vanilla. Everyone’s gotta love vanilla, right?” 
Was he… flirting with you? 
You’d blame your following response on the beers coursing through your bloodstream, but truthfully, you just wanted to play along, even only for a moment. 
“Hmm, I don’t know. I don’t always love vanilla, Mr. Miller.”
Joel’s eyes darkened, falling to your lips as you took another drink. It was bold and stupid of you to say that, but at this point, you didn’t care. 
“What other flavors do you like?” 
He leaned forward in his chair, his thigh pressing against yours. The heat of his body and the smell of smoke on his clothes was a dangerous combination for your self-restraint.  
“I have a few guilty pleasure flavors,” you smirked.
Joel’s hand damn near crushed the bottle when you said those words, his entire body tensing beside you. You couldn’t care at that moment about how you spoke; the drinks started speaking for themselves. You hadn’t dared to flirt with a man since Bennett left, too afraid of what falling in love again might do to you. But, for some reason, flirting with Joel felt so simple. He was older than you, and maybe that piqued your interest, knowing he was far more mature than anyone else you had considered. 
“Indulge me, Miss Smith,” he whispered. 
“I think I’ll leave it a mystery,” you whispered in return. “I’ve already said too much as it is.”
“I reckon you ain’t said enough,” he countered. 
Heat flared through your neck and face as he leaned in closer, his face only inches from yours. This had gone too far. You had broken any rules you had previously set in place, and now you were dancing on a fragile line between professionalism and indecency. 
Glancing at the clock above the bar, you watched as the hands ticked closer to midnight. Just like in the fairytales, your time was up. Back to reality. 
“It’s getting late,” you started. “I should get home.”
Joel’s demeanor shifted, and his grin faltered as he watched you rise from the barstool. He brushed his hand over your arm, barring you from walking away. 
“Not real sure if you should be drivin’ home yet, Miss Smith. Y’had a few drinks tonight,” Joel protested.
“How do you know? Were you watching me?”
“Gotta make sure my daughter's teacher is safe. Who else’s gonna make sure she gets straight A’s?” 
He was trying to make light of the situation, but you knew better. You knew he had been watching you since he had arrived; his attention had never been on his group of friends. 
“I assure you, I’m fine,” you argued. “You go enjoy your night with your friends, Mr. Miller.”
Joel’s brows furrowed as he considered you. His hand still lingered on your arm, thick fingers flexing against your skin. You glanced between his hand and his eyes, trying to make sense of his intentions. This was far past a coincidental run-in; this was a strange desire out of reach. 
“Can I drive you home at least?” He asked. 
“I’m okay. Thank you, though.”
“Can I at least drive behind you to make sure you make it alright?” He offered.
You looked back toward the bar, seeing the man he walked in with staring at you with an apparent scowl.
“I don’t think that’s fair to your friend,” you said.
Joel peered around you and huffed loudly. 
“That’s my brother, Tommy. S’all good, he’s probably ready to hit the road, too.”
“He doesn’t look too happy.”
“He’s fine,” Joel grumbled.
Tommy noticed you both staring at him and decided to join the mix. He walked up with a grin despite the scowl he had just worn and extended his hand to you.
“I’m Tommy. Joel’s brother.”
“Hi, I’m Sarah’s teacher.” You gave him a quick shake and tried to sidestep to leave.
“Wait!” Joel called out.
“I’m okay, Mr. Miller,” you tossed over your shoulder. “Be safe tonight.”
You made a beeline for the door, hoping to escape him before he reeled you back in. You let yourself float in his atmosphere for too long, testing the waters you knew were off-limits. There was still an alcohol-induced haze lingering in your head, but the sooner you could leave, the better. Tomorrow would come with a headache and a post-drunken clarity to put you back on the right track. You needed to steer clear of Joel before you slipped up and allowed another man inside the walls you built. 
You attempted to retrieve your keys from your purse, only to fumble them out of your hands and onto the dirt ground of the parking lot. 
“Fuck,” you groaned.
As you bent to pick them up, footsteps crunching on the ground grew closer. You already knew who it was.
“Miss Smith,” Joel’s voice sounded pained. 
“I’m fine!” you shouted, whipping your head around to find him nearly toe-to-toe with you. 
The moonlight above you illuminated his brown eyes, which darkened the longer he looked down at you. You shrunk away, letting your body hit the driver's side of your door while Joel stepped closer. 
“Please. You shouldn’t be drivin’ right now. Lettin’ you leave like this wouldn’t be right of me.”
Your only focus was on his lips as he talked. The plushness of his lips enticed you, leaving you imagining how soft they’d feel pressed against yours. Your control was slipping, and the alcohol was pulsing faster in your veins. 
“You’re not going to give up, are you?” You wondered aloud. 
Joel looked at you like he knew the layers of the question. He knew what battle you were fighting inside and saw the fear plastered on your face.
“No,” he whispered softly.
Your eyes bounced between his eyes and his lips, trying to grasp the moment's weight. You needed to be firm and say no; your future self would thank you for it. Gripping your keys, you exhaled and turned towards your car door. 
“Have a good night, Mr. Miller,” you tossed over your shoulder. 
The warmth of his body pressed against your back, the smell of smoke and liquor wrapping around you and enveloping you in a cocoon of temptation. Joel’s hands reached around to grab your keys from your shaking hand, dangling them between you and the car. 
“M’taking you home, Miss Smith. Ain’t gonna argue anymore,” he said as his mouth fell to the shell of your ear. 
“I’m—.”
“Don’t,” he interjected. “Go to my truck.”
He had the exact tone you did when you reprimanded your students, but the deep rasp of his accent made it all the more inviting. You didn’t want to listen to his demands, but you were getting nowhere successfully. Joel sidestepped to free you of the cage he had you in, watching you intently as you sulked to his truck. It wasn’t hard to know which one it was; only a few cars were left, and the truck exuded the same masculinity as the owner. 
“What about my car?” You protested, folding your arms across your body as you leaned against the truck. 
“I’ll give Tommy the keys,” he said. “He’ll drive it behind us.”
You were about to ramble another slew of protests when Joel yanked the passenger side door open and tilted his head toward the interior. 
“Get in.”
His tone left little room for arguing, so you did as he said without another word. Despite the anger radiating off his body, Joel shut the door softly before heading back into the bar. 
You fidgeted with the seatbelt, the press of it against your chest not strong enough to stabilize the rhythm of your heartbeat. You were in his truck, meaning you’d be alone with him for the next several minutes. It was enough to force a roll of nausea through your stomach. Leaning your head against the window, you watched him reemerge from the bar with Tommy in tow. There was a clear expression of annoyance etched on Tommy’s face, all at the cost of your own stubbornness. 
Joel tossed him the keys to your car before rounding the truck's hood and climbing into the driver’s seat. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, so you kept your eyes on the road as it blurred past with each passing mile. 
“Where do you live?” he asked, passing through another vacant green light. 
You rambled off your address, still keeping your gaze steady on the streetlights as they passed by your window. He didn’t attempt to make small talk after that, and the silence settled onto you like a heavy blanket. Your control of consciousness was slipping the longer you sat beside him, but you willed yourself awake. The streets started to become familiar, and you shifted in your seat. Taking a risk, you looked at Joel, finding him white-knuckling the wheel with his jaw clenched. 
“I’m sorry,” you muttered. “I—I don’t go out and drink normally. I should have just stayed home tonight.”
“S’okay,” he said, glancing at you. “Just don’t get why you’re so stubborn about askin’ for help. First at the supermarket and now at the bar. I don’t get it.”
A rush of tears stung your eyes, and you quickly looked away, trying to blink them back before he noticed. Joel’s hand fell onto your thigh, sending a jolt of shock through your body. You wanted to shy away from it, but there was no use in fighting at this point; you were already failing miserably. 
“Hey,” he prodded. “Shit, I’m sorry. Don’t cry, alright?”
You swiped away the tears running from your eyes, schooling your emotions back into a state of numbness. Your little blue house came into view, and you pointed a tired finger toward it to guide him in the right direction. 
“This is me,” you sniffled. 
“Big ol’ house, Miss Smith. Y’live here alone?”
“Yeah,” you exhaled. “Thanks for the ride, Mr. Miller.”
“I really wish you’d stop callin’ me that,” he sighed, parking his car at your home's fence.
“It’s all formalities.”
“Yeah, I know. I just think after tonight, we’re far past all them formalities and shit.”
Your hand lingered on the door handle as you took one last look at him. Joel’s eyes looked over you with a softness you didn’t deserve. You deserve to be happy. Maria’s words rang out in your head the longer you stared at him. ‘Happy’ was a foreign word to you now, out of reach and out of your control.
“Can I just know one thing?” He asked. 
You nodded, your fingers wrapped around the door handle.
“What’s your name?”
Blame the alcohol…blame your vulnerability…but you told him.
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paradoxcase · 3 days
Text
Chapter 25 of Nona the Ninth
So this chapter has a broken Gideon skull, which in this book seems to mean people being deceitful, and something is definitely up because Gideon is like 2-3 times as much Gideon as she normally is in this chapter, and I don't think that's an impression I only have because I've recently been through 3/4 of book full of Nona POV
Throughout this chapter, Gideon is referred to as "the corpse" or "the corpse prince" frequently, and I just feel like I should point out that we've gotten to the point where there are actually two different walking and talking corpses in this scene and both of them could plausibly be referred to as a prince. Even though Naberius's body is not currently being controlled by Ianthe, Naberius himself was a prince before he died
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Hmm
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That's all the definitions, I think Gideon just made this one up. Also, it's not a good day when you learn a new ethnic slur from the dictionary
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Pyrrha acts like Gideon said "yes" here, but she didn't. That's like, a combination of "yes" and "nope"
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It's hilarious, and I think actually accurate, that she's still terrified of the needle even though she is literally immune to needles now
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"Judith Deuteros for some reason" really just sums up Judith's whole role in this story, doesn't it? It also would make a great blog title for a Judith fanblog, someone should get on that
Poor Judith! It's been a hot minute since Judith actually said something in a language that someone other than Nona can understand, so I really do hope it still is Judith in her body, and not someone or something else in there now
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Right, so this could potentially mean:
The whole time since she impaled herself on the fence (unlikely since Gideon was stealth-narrating the entirety of Harrow the Ninth)
The whole time since Pyrrha and Nona met up with BOE at the end of Harrow the Ninth (since BOE had Gideon's body at that point, I think it's entirely possible that Gideon's soul transferred back into it from Harrow's body when she came into its proximity)
The whole time since John reacquired Gideon's body and made his modifications to it, and possibly also brought Gideon's soul back to it at that point
She could also just mean "the whole time I've been in New Rho" or "the whole time you've been in the barracks" but obviously she's been awake for longer than that since she was around to receive medals and stuff from John
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Wiktionary says a "rusk" is a "weaning food for children" but doesn't give any kind of information on what specific food it is, or if it's just a general word for that kind of food
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So Ianthe can "shut her off" somehow. I'm not sure if I buy that it was Gideon's idea to come here. I don't think she likes Ianthe, I don't think she would have thought New Rho would be a fun place to be, and even if she actually wanted to go to Ninth House like she says later I don't think she could have predicted that she'd be in a position for that to happen here and there are much easier and more straightforward ways for her to get to the Ninth House if she'd stayed with John
An interesting question is whether or not she would have won a fight with Ianthe's entropy field. I tend to think not, because a literal bar of metal didn't survive the entropy field, and even though she has some, like, I guess artificial preservation from being John's daughter she wasn't immune to direct physical damage because of that and even John himself wasn't immune to being taken apart into bits by Mercy, and since Mercy made the OG entropy field I'm sure it probably works using the same principle as whatever she did to John. Gideon may still survive the entropy field somehow, but if the entropy field was still functional it would actually be a great way for Palamedes to get a blood sample from her for Tomb-opening purposes, and so I think John would be extremely against having any such thing anywhere near Gideon's body. So I'm sticking with my theory that this was Ianthe's idea. She intentionally showed Gideon's body during the broadcast, she did that on purpose, although I guess if Gideon was "turned off" during that time she might not know that
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Man, thanks for nothing, Gideon
Significant things that happened in the River at the end of the last book:
G1deon and a bunch of ghosts scared Number Seven off and it went to New Rho
Augustine was eaten by the Stoma
Harrow's and Palamedes' River bubbles ceased to exist
The Mithraeum was submerged in the River and sank very far down, unknown currently if John and Ianthe managed to save it
I can't think of why any of these things would make it safe for non-Lyctors to travel safely through the River. The ghosts all make themselves scarce around resurrection beasts, but I'm sure Ianthe and Gideon's journey didn't start out in the presence of a resurrection beast and I don't think the ghosts are the reason why River travel is dangerous for non-Lyctors
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Blatant lies, lmao
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She's so bad at lying, she starts off with "I don't want anything anymore" and finishes with "I want to go to the Ninth House because I have unfinished business there", and I suspect both of those things are at least partly lies. But I think she's right that John would probably give her a medal for killing this collection of people at this point, including Corona I think
But I suspect that she is the one who wants to go back to the Ninth House, for some undisclosed reason, and she's not acting on John or Ianthe's wishes here. If John wanted her to go back to the Ninth House she would already be there yesterday. If Ianthe wanted her to go there, I don't think she would have put up that entropy field, and she might even have tried to do some deal with BOE where she exchanged Gideon for the Sixth House. Also, I don't think Ianthe actually gives a shit about the Ninth House or anything that happened there. And there's no one else left in John's circuit at this point
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Man, when Pyrrha said she was heavy, I just thought it was because she was tall and full of muscle. How damn strong is Pyrrha, exactly?
No, hold on, let me math this
A normal adult human has 11 kg of bones. Cortical bone makes up 80% of bone mass and has an average density of 1908 kg/m3, and cancellus bone makes up 20% and has an average density of 1178 kg/m3, so that is an average density of 1762 kg/m3 over all. There are 1,000,000 cm3 in 1 m3, so 11 kg / 1762 kg/m3 * 1,000,000 cm3/m3 is 6,242.9 cm3 of bone. Titanium has a density of 4.506 g/cm3. 6,242.9 cm3 * 4.506 g/cm3 is 28,130.5 g or a little over 28 kg. Since bones usually weigh 11 kg, that's only 17 extra kg of bone, so she only actually weighs about 37 and a half more pounds than usual. She says "titanium plex", which is not a real thing, but I can't imagine that titanium plex would actually be more dense than titanium, so I think it checks out that she would just be somewhat heavier than expected and not ridiculously heavy or something like that
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That's a great question that I'd love to see answered. Is the fence also going to turn out to be some kind of holy object infused with a power even higher than John?
Speaking of holes, I remember back a long time ago I reblogged that one poll that mentioned stigmata sex, and people assured me that while the stigmata were actually in the book, the stigmata sex was not. Are Gideon's holes the stigmata? Does that count as stigmata? I think it's in the wrong place, isn't it?
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So, thanergy is cell death, but it seems like dead bodies radiate thanergy even if no cell death is occurring, because John's cryo bodies were generating thanergy for him even after he'd completely stopped them from rotting. So Gideon's body is somehow preserved due to being related to John, but in a way that doesn't involve being infused with thalergy as she suggests for the blood sample, because as we know from the last chapter, body + soul + thalergy = living person, and Gideon isn't a living person, so she must be missing one of those, and it's not her body or her soul. The preservation only applies to the bounds of her body, and her body is still radiating thanergy, apparently enough that it would kill the blood sample?
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She got her whole childhood fantasy of a famous and powerful parent who gave her everything she wanted, but that person turned out to be John, and now she's stuck with him and Ianthe and being used as figurehead for John's military, and he spent just enough effort on her to make sure that her body can't be used against him but didn't fix the gaping holes in her chest, and the person she sacrificed herself for is missing and possibly dead, and someone else is in her body instead
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I mean, Ianthe was keeping her locked up behind the entropy field. I wonder if she's had a lot of that from John, too
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witchofthesouls · 1 day
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Lately all I can think of is TFP Optimus being demon bait. Amongst every iteration that I seen with the Matrix, he feels more like a placeholder involving the relic than an actual Champion for Primus. Plus TFP is the only one who doesn't retain any knowledge about his past as Orion Pax.
Placeholders are easier to tempt than champions since they aren't fully protected or warned of the danger. The Matrix of Leadership practically rats him out to anything supernatural when you consider it acts more like a vessel unlike other relics. Optimus is gonna have a mixed time should a demon hone in on him.
I get what you're saying. All the strange and, let's face it, very sus Artifacts are painting a very wild picture.
Personally, while I do believe TFP Optimus is a legitimate Prime, he isn't a fully realized one. It gets weirder with the Canon lore in the Aligned verse that the Matrix was housed with Prima's Star Saber and that Optimus is supposed to be the reincarnation of the mysterious Thirteen. Plus, Metroplex from the games vouched his status as a Prime: "Metroplex heeds the call of the last Prime." (Fall of Cybertron game)
I wonder how come the writers didn't go with the Primal Artifacts being semi-sentient? It would really make sense with the mythos and immense powers, especially since those tools can be only wielded by a Prime. So the building blocks were there. Or, have the ghost of Prima within the Matrix that's controlling new ordained champions, and it's intefering with Thirteen's connections? The Matrix has an established history of reformatting new bearers, so is it a big surprise that they're turned into Prima's thoughts of a prefect guardian? Prima has different Aspects and Domains compared to his youngest brother.
The themes of identity and self-determination are there. I think he internally struggled with it. Is he Orion Pax of Alpha Trion? Optimus Prime of Prima? Are they one and the same mask? Does he remember the Wilds in his dreams? Did he have hopes and plans for reconstruction? At night, does he recounts all the steps that brought him to that point?
But yeah, TFP!Optimus would be a succulent prize for a supernatural entity. The Matrix is both a beacon and lighthouse. To see a mortal God-King or a divine champion drowning in uncertainty would turn the very dangerous or very desperate towards him because a contract could be established.
Weirdly enough, out of all the Autobots, I think Optimus would have the easiest time navigating any potential entities. Orion Pax lived and breathed in doublespeak as an archivist directly sponsored by Alpha Trion himself. He knows the intricate dance to steer between treacherous allies and hostile enemies and how to be very leery of certain agreements. Orion was stuck between impossible contradictions of his status.
Ratchet has had certain privileges afforded by his function and frame. He's comfortable taking over things and saying his piece, especially among the current team. He also has a poor opinion of non-Cybertronian anything. He would either be killed for insolence and disrespect or be ensnared in a dream that gives him his deepest wishes. Arcee, depending on your viewpoint, is either lucky or unlucky, especially since she survives all her partnerships. Even Jack Darby, no matter how careful, has a human lifespan, which is seafoam to a Cybertronian. Something would latch onto her anger and grief. Bulkhead can be a very considerate soul. Some being would be charmed by the mech. Bumblebee is kind, and Smokescreen can be impulsive and so very clever. Traits that are endearing to many entities in old tales.
Optimus would have his hands full should something start sniffing around the base.
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perpetualexistence · 8 hours
Text
Slumbering Pride
Alenoah Week Day 7: Free Day! (Demon AU)
Alejandro is finally, finally close to beating José at something. He's in his junior year, and universities are already scouting him out thanks to his name, his academic prowess, and his athletic prowess.
They did the same for José when he was about to graduate. The difference is he had five schools attempt to recruit him.
Alejandro has six.
José can't let this stand. If Alejandro officially gets six offers, then he'll know José isn't perfect. He'll start trying harder to beat José in things. And worse, he might actually win if he's proven himself capable of it.
José needs to do something about it, so he comes to the most obvious solution.
He summons a demon.
(Rest under read more because it's long)
Demons are an open secret. They were confirmed to be real a while back, though are mostly bound by the deals they must make in order to maintain a foothold on the human realm. An unbound demon is a dangerous thing, and often happens if the person making the deal is tricked into breaking their side of it.
Demons are known to do everything possible to do this, or at least cause havoc in whatever capacity their bounds enable them to. It's forbidden and illegal for anyone to summon one without proper qualifications. (There's still some summonings that do happen after all, demons are quite useful so long as you're careful).
Still, humans are naturally curious creatures, and have found multiple ways of spreading this knowledge as best as they can. Demon summoning is uncommon, but it still happens. So much that children are taught what to do if they believe they're encountering a demon.
Most sane people know better than to risk entering any contract with a demon. But there are always those desperate enough, or stupid enough, to try.
Getting his hands on a book on demon summoning is child's play for someone with José's family connections. He doesn't care what kind of demon he summons, so long as he summons one that will do the job he wants. He can sweet talk them into giving him the best deal possible just as he sweet talks anyone else.
As he finishes the summoning, his limbs grow heavier. It is constant agony to keep himself standing. His thoughts grow fuzzy as he struggles to remember what he was so focused on. He isn't quite sure why he bothers.
It would be much easier to sit down and rest. What was he so worried about, again? It couldn't have been so important if he's forgotten. His eyes droop to a close as he lets out a sigh of relief he had been holding back for so, so long.
"Wow, you're seriously pathetic if you're this affected by my summoning."
José snapped out of his stupor to see a teenager staring back at him. He was a couple of inches shorter than José and could only be described as a breathing fashion disaster.
José could have stopped there, but he couldn't ignore the horns atop the demon's head, the wings pressed against his back, the tail lightly tapping the ground. His arms were folded as he tapped his clawed foot impatiently.
José was expecting something much more imposing than...this. He'd laugh if had less control of himself.
"I would like to make a deal with you-"
"Could have fooled me with your craiglist ad." Noah said, glancing at the circle underneath him. "It's so generic it screams 'I'm not going to put you in a van and drive you to an undisclosed location, I promise.'"
José could feel a headache coming on. "I am going to make a deal with you, demonio." He needed to regain control of this conversation, fast.
"Never said I wouldn't make one. What do you want?"
"I would like for you to stop my brother from getting too far ahead in life. At the very least, I want to make sure that he can never surpass me. In any way. Can you do that?"
"Depends on what I get in return."
The two end up negotiating until they settle on a deal: Noah makes sure that Alejandro can never surpass José, and in return Noah gets to take his ability to dream. José can do without a few dreamless nights.
That's how Alejandro finds himself waking up in the morning with a demon that was only as tall as halfway up his knee staring at him from the foot of his bed.
Alejandro instinctively kicks the smaller boy out of panic, sending a very unhappy demon crashing into a wall. When they've both recovered, Noah explains exactly what's going on.
He's here to pretty much haunt and sabotage Alejandro, José's the one who sent him because he's a dick, and this is just going to be their life now.
After Alejandro processes the fact that his brother truly hates him this much as to risk both of their lives to a demon, he asks why Noah would bother to tell him all of this. He doesn't say it out loud, but he knows that a demon could absolutely make his life a living hell. He's expecting insidious manipulations and life threatening accidents.
And this demon is making any sabotage more difficult by confessing that he's going to sabotage Alejandro? Something isn't adding up.
That's when Noah points out the big flaw in Jose's brilliant plan.
Because he hadn't been concerned about what kind of demon he summoned, he pretty much set up a job posting for a demon from any of the seven sins to snatch. Noah just happened to get there first.
So what does José get for not being specific?
A sloth demon.
Noah plans to do the bare minimum of what's required for his job. He doesn't care to bother with the effort of lying to Alejandro about his purpose here. The only reason he bothered to take this job in the first place is because the human realm has two things that the demon realm doesn't: Decent places to nap, and good books.
The only thing he hadn't counted on is how small he'd end up being once bonded with Alejandro. His size is dependent on the amount of sloth Alejandro has. The teen who gives it his all in every activity he does.
Noah's got his work cut out for him.
Alejandro tries seeing if he can use his own silver tongue to have Noah quit the job before he gets started, but with no luck. Noah doesn't feel like leaving. And he's not about to break the deal on his side because then he be forced back into the demon realm and unable to return unless directly summoned.
Alejandro would very much like to try just trapping the demon somewhere, then go to his brother to confront him about doing this. But he knows better than to act before fully knowing what Noah is capable of. And he wouldn't be surprised if his brother tried to gaslight him into thinking Noah wasn't real. He still doesn't quite believe it himself.
He does start to believe that having Noah around will be a continuous little nightmare. He's constantly offering snide remarks. He keeps trying to convince Alejandro to stop trying so hard and just be lazy.
Alejandro's not as aggravated as the attempt than he is at the fact that there's zero tact to it. Noah isn't even TRYING to be subtle. He could think of a thousand ways to do Noah's job better, except telling him that would then make Alejandro's life worse.
It gets to the point where he's so upset he just throws a pillow at Noah. The demon squawks as he gets hit, and Alejandro gets immense satisfaction from this. Alejandro knows this is a terrible idea, but he's angry at this whole situation and needs to take it out on somebody. Might as well do it on the one successfully set him off.
Alejandro gets his karma for snapping at Noah when he goes to sleep.
His dream starts off as he would expect it to. Until suddenly he finds something knocked against his back. He finds himself pinned to his stomach, and when he struggles to get out from under it, he finds the tip of a very familiar tail at a much larger scale pressing down on him.
"I thought 'Burromuertos conquer whatever they set their minds to'. We're in your mind. So get up."
Alejandro can feel Noah's smirk though he can't see it. He refuses to give Noah the satisfaction of admitting defeat and continues to fight against the tail.
Tears are not pricking his eyes as he's made to feel insignificant in the last safe place that was truly his.
As he can't feel tired in his dream, he continues to struggle. Noah admits that Alejandro's probably the most stubborn human he's ever met.
Alejandro snaps that he's a Burromuerto, and he does not quit. He cannot, and will not quit. Ever. No matter the competition, no matter the cost. Noah's just another obstacle in his way. But he will beat his brother in something for once in his life.
He does his best to hide the desperation in his need to believe that this is true. He's hidden it well in the past, but Noah is a perceptive sort and hears it anyways.
Noah asks what could type of win could possibly be so important that it was worth the risk of his brother summoning a demon on him.
"I'm about to beat him in the amount of colleges offering me admissions by one." Alejandro gloated, pride swelling in his chest.
The tail pressing down on him suddenly reached underneath him, and flipped him over like he was a roach. He looked up to see Noah's face free of apathy for the first time. Instead, it was replaced with one of...pity.
"You can't seriously be proud of that."
Alejandro grit his teeth. "I am."
"You have to know how that sounds, right?"
"Please do enlighten me about what you think that sounds like."
"It sounds pathetic! You're going above and beyond and you're seriously caught up in something as stupid as one-upping your brother?"
"Don't you dare try to act as if you know any better tú hijo de su puta madre," Alejandro snarled, the tears returning to his eyes. "I don't care what you are. You know nothing about me and my family. You can say and do whatever you like but I will not cow to any of your attempts to degrade me." His snarl turned into something of a deranged chuckle. "Do your worst. This is nothing new. I will still come out on top and grind you into dust."
Noah was silent for a long time. As he started to move his mouth to speak, Alejandro found himself snapping awake. He looked around to see Noah still in his room. He's looking at him with incredibly impassive indifference. Alejandro won't see anything else in his gaze. At least the demon was smart enough not to try running his mouth again.
Alejandro stormed off so he could grab a book to study while he ate breakfast.
Noah mostly stays out of Alejandro's way, but Alejandro can feel him watching. He doesn't care where Noah scampers off to during the day. He refuses to acknowledge the little monster.
He throws himself deep into studying. He's spending more time awake so he can study and avoid having to fall asleep. Beauty sleep be damned, he does not want to deal with Noah again.
When he does sleep, he dreams. He can always feel a looming presence behind him, and he says nothing of it.
He does his best to hide his exhaustion from the rest of his family. José notices and pounces on it. Alejandro continues to deny it, because he will not give his brother the satisfaction of having won yet another battle.
All the stress and exhaustion comes to a head after a few nights. Alejandro hopes for a dreamless night, and is instead greeted by a nightmare.
He's attending one of his parent's many galas, and his outfit is atrocious. He's sweating profusely. His hair is plastered to his face. Try as he might, it refuses to go back into place. He's a truly unforgiveable sight. He tries to sneak off so he can find something else to change into. Despite his appearance, no one is paying any attention to him. He finds out why as he goes through a guest.
He's running as fast as he can now. He's going through so many people, everything is blurring together. It all comes to a halt as he crashes into a wall he can't see. As he falls backwards, he sees that he's now in a terrarium.
Outside, his much larger brother and parents are talking to each other. Alejandro can't make out what they're saying, but he can see them laughing. He gets up and bangs on one of the walls. His brother flicks his gaze towards his little brother.
Finally, a break. He know Jose hates him, but he'd never truly hurt Alejandro. Alejandro knows this. He has to believe this. Jose could hurt him physically, mentally, and emotionally, but even he wouldn't leave Alejandro to die.
He'd just deliver a potential vehicle of death to Alejandro's doorstep, is all.
Their parents are gone, and it's just him and Jose now.
"Relájate, hermanito," Jose cooes as if he's talking to an infant, "Nadie espera que seas más de lo que eres. ¡Deberías estar agradecido de haber estado cerca de una fracción de mis logros! Sabes exactamente lo que te mereces por eso, ¿no?"
Jose lifts the lid of the terrarium up. He reaches a massive hand down towards Alejandro. Alejandro wants to climb up and away, but the walls are too smooth. They're closing in. All that there is is the hand, ready to grab him, crush him, throttle him, any variety of things.
He can do nothing to stop it. He was a fool for ever thinking he could. He closes his eyes shut in an instinctive fear he can't hold back anymore. He's hoping he can bring himself to fight. He's silently begging for his brother to be merciful enough to make it quick.
The hand that grabs him is much more gentle than he expects. He struggles to be free, but the grip is tight enough to stop much movement. There is no squeeze. It is weight without malice, and cool to the touch.
He feels something the size of a tree trunk gently brush his hair away from his face. He lets out a gasp of air he had been craving for far too long. He tries to open his eyes. He feels the tears sweat from earlier is sticking his eyelids shut. He shudders. His arms are pinned, so he can't move to fix wipe his eyes.
Suddenly, he's being moved higher and higher. He hears steady flapping from above. The pace is slow enough to where the wind is just a gentle breeze soothing his clammy skin.
He feels his captor descending, and he's unceremoniously dropped to the ground. He wipes his eyes and stands up. He's dressed to the nines. He sees other figures roaming about. He can see how they sneak a glance his way, then happily chitter amongst themselves.
"Mijo, no te quedes ahí parado," his mother says as she suddenly slips through the crowd. This is how he remembers this is a dream. His mother would never refer to him so colloquially, "Entra, tu juramento está por comenzar."
"Un momento, madre. Hay algo que debo hacer primero."
She clucks her tongue, another informal mark of unreality, and leaves him be.
Alejandro turned around, but all he could see were faceless guests.
"You can come out. I know you're here." Alejandro felt the ground behind him quake slightly, and turned to look up at Noah.
"Sure you want to waste your time with me? The dream isn't going to last forever."
"What did you do?"
"Took you out of your own nightmare. Brought you into one of José's dreams. And before you throw a fit, this is one he already let me have. He's nowhere here."
"Alright, that brings me to my next question. Why?"
"Is it really so hard to believe I did something out of the goodness of my miserable excuse of a heart?"
"Sí."
"You're ridiculous," Noah groaned, rolling his eyes. "Fine, I did it because it's easier to get you sleeping if you actually want to sleep. Happy with that answer? Or do you want me to pull out my five step plan for sabotaging you?"
"Well, a little presentation would go a long way~" Alejandro teased. He was finally comfortable enough to find his own voice again.
"And congratulations, you've made me regret doing anything. I'm going back to insulting you the second you wake up."
"You can try, and it still won't work."
"It will. Now go on, you've got the rest of this dream and that's it."
Alejandro left Noah to go explore the rest of the ceremony of achieving the same position of his father as a Spanish ambassador.
He wakes up to find a small Noah clinging onto his chest. The demon had somehow managed to wriggle his way under one of Alejandro's arms and was using it as a blanket. He's still fast asleep. Alejandro tests how asleep by moving his arm slightly. Noah clings tighter to the arm, but otherwise doesn't stir.
Alejandro could just stand up. That would definitely force the smaller boy awake. ...But, as loathe as he is to admit, Noah did help him. So, possibly for the first time in his life, he decides to sleep in rather than wake up for his daily morning routine.
Noah grows a few inches, matching the height of Alejandro's knee, during their nap.
The two are still antagonistic towards each other, but it's nowhere near as bad as when they first met. Alejandro lords over Noah in the waking world, and Noah returns the favor in the dreaming. There is one added wrinkle, though.
Thanks to Alejandro's moment of weakness, Noah has gained the ability force Alejandro into taking a nap. It can only happen when he's already feeling tired, whether physically or mentally thanks to studying, or if he's doing a mindless task.
It's some of the best sleep Alejandro has ever had.
It aggravates him to no end.
When Noah isn't trying to convince Alejandro to give up on his dreams, he's either sleeping, or is reading one of the many books in the Burromuerto library if that's where Alejandro has decided to study.
Alejandro notices Noah struggling when he tries to get books to read due to his size. He offers to grab a book for Noah to bribe him into leaving Alejandro alone for this study session. Noah immediately starts taking advantage of this by questioning Alejandro about what kinds of books he has. Noah might as well get a book based on its contents rather than its weight.
The two start getting into book recommendations. Alejandro sweetens the deal by gifting Noah one of the books he no longer reads to get peace for as long as it takes for Noah to read the book. Noah accepts immediately and will cling to the book with his entire body when Alejandro tries to help him lift the book.
No. This is Noah's book now. No one else is allowed to touch it.
He's so possessive because human things are hard to come by in the demon realm. Only greed demons are able to carry human things back to the demon realm, so they've of course got a monopoly of jacked up prices. The only exception is if a demon properly owns a human thing. Or in this case, is gifted one.
So yeah, Noah will agree to let Alejandro touch it to carry it, but he's watching that thing like a hawk.
A few weeks pass like this. Eventually, José butts his way into Alejandro's life as he usually does. He gloats that their parents are planning to host a party for José to start making connections now as he's properly starting on his journey to becoming an ambassador.
The second he's gone, Noah and Alejandro start bonding by shit talking José.
Alejandro justifies trying so hard so that he can finally one up José. It's why he won't give in to sloth. Nothing good ever comes of doing nothing. Besides, it's one of the weakest of the sins, so it will be easy enough to overcome.
Noah argues that sloth isn't as terrible as Alejandro makes it out to be. It means actually getting rest when everything is overwhelming rather than chugging on through to crash and burn later. Taking a step back and doing nothing can lead to new ideas popping up because there is no longer stress preventing them. Hell, some innovation comes from humans being lazy and wanting a better way to do things.
Like any of the other sins, it's only bad when done in excess. And it can be worse than just being lazy. Having too much sloth means having too much apathy. Horrible people get away with atrocities when enough people are too lazy to do anything about it. It means nothing changes because nobody wants to change.
Noah reveals that underestimating sloth is exactly how José has absolutely screwed himself. José has given up his ability to dream. He thinks the only definition of that are his literal dreams at night, and that's what Noah has been feeding on so far.
They also mean his dreams about being an ambassador. His dreams of more. Dreams are heavily linked with desire and ambition. By the time Noah's done with him, José will be nothing more than a walking husk. He'll do the bare minimum needed to survive, but nothing more. Knowing he should long for something else but being unable to.
The only reason he hasn't done so immediately is if he does take it fully, it means his deal would be over, and no more being in the human realm.
This does remind Alejandro that he is having a casual conversation with a demon. Despite their current pleasantries, it would be a terrible thing to watch Noah get more creative in his interpretations of his deal with José. It's safer to keep him entertained than to let his mind wander.
It doesn't hurt that entertaining Noah has led to riveting conversation.
Still, he comes up with an idea to control Noah, and get himself some much deserved revenge. He asks if he could actually make a deal with Noah to get back at José.
Unfortunately Noah can't. Not because he doesn't want to. He's got no issues with taking José down a peg. He's just unable to make a deal with more than one human at a time. There are conflict of interest rules in place. Even if there weren't, he's still a teenager. He's not powerful enough to make multiple deals at a time yet.
But he knows a demon who'd be willing to help out.
Her name's Eva. She's a wrath demon. She's pretty straightforward. Tell her exactly what you want, and she won't try to screw with you so long as you don't do the same to her.
Alejandro is concerned about what her price would be, but he isn't going to say that directly. Instead, he comes up with a different plan to solve this in a way better than his brother had.
He asks about what kinds of things that Eva likes. Noah did mention that human objects were more difficult to come by in the demon world, yes? Alejandro could give something concrete rather than abstract. Everyone wins.
Noah doesn't say anything, but Alejandro can tell that Noah is impressed that he remembered something Noah had said. He must not have much chance to show off his knowledge in the demon realm.
Noah tells him that she likes music. All she's been able to scavenge is a very old, shitty MP3. Phones are more easy to come by, but with no service they're practically worthless. Besides, Eva's chill when she's not fully committing her job.
His only condition is Alejandro's going to have to agree to forget how to summon Eva after they've done the ritual. Eva doesn't like just anybody summoning her, and Noah respects that enough to not share it with others without her permission.
Alejandro agrees.
When the final word is spoken, he waits. And waits. and waits. It feels like he's been waiting for at least an hour. He's going to tap a hole in the floor with anticipation at this rate.
It can't be taking this long. The longer he waits, the longer José gets to prance around consequence-free. He deserves no peace for what he's put Alejandro through. His lips curl in disgust at the thought of his brother getting rewarded for all of his misdeeds. He wants to call his brother over, right here, right now. Just so he can throttle José himself-
"What do you want?" asked the demon who now stood in front of him. Her arms were crossed, and she looked annoyed to even be looking at him. Alejandro had to shake his head to head to let go of the pent-up rage he had suddenly developed.
"Hey iron woman." Noah commented from his current perch on a nearby bookshelf. Eva turned her attention away from Alejandro to see the smaller demon.
"Noah." Eva commented as she acknowledged him with a nod. Noah's face was still set with apathy, and Eva's with annoyance.
Yet Noah was wrapping his tail around his leg to prevent it from wagging as furiously as Eva's was.
"So, what do you want?" Eva repeated. The edge to her tone was dulled this time.
"I would like to make a deal with you. My brother is going to be at the center of a gala recently. I know he doesn't think as highly of others as he will pretend, so I would just like your help in making him more...honest about his true feelings." Noah sighed at this answer.
"You want a truth spell?" Eva asked. She turned to pay attention to Noah before Alejandro could form a response. "Why would you summon me for this?"
"He wants you to make his brother throw the rage fit to end all rage fits in front of an international audience."
"Then why didn't he just say that?"
"Because he doesn't know how to follow instructions."
"Then why'd you bring me a stupid one?" Eva asked Noah.
Alejandro had to bite his lip to stop himself from interrupting. He was being both ignored and insulted. He couldn't let this be his impression on anybody.
However, Noah knew this demon, while he did not. She clearly valued Noah's opinion over his own, so countering his opinion now would only serve to shut her off further from responding to the Spaniard.
"He has his moments," Noah replied, "Plus, you're going to like what he has to offer."
"Well?" Eva asked, turning her attention back to Alejandro.
"As Noah so tactfully implied, I do plan to offer a fair price," Alejandro said, glad to have control of the conversation again. He pulled out a small device he'd performed quite a bit of research to get his hands on. "I've heard that you are in need of more music. I have managed to find a top of the line mp3 player-"
"How many songs?" Eva interrupted. She was looking directly at Alejandro now.
"If I had to guess? A little over 20,000."
Eva's tail immediately dropped. He could see her mind move from processing that number, to grappling it, to understanding it. Her eyes shone with anticipation that she didn't bother to hide. Her tail was practically causing a minor tornado. Her hands were half clenched and shaking as if she was five seconds away from snatching the prized jewel Alejandro held in his hands.
"Ice Nine Kills."
"Hm?"
"Ice Nine Kills. Silver Scream 2: Welcome to Horrorwood. We're moving up from there. Now gimme."
"Well, hold on. We still need to work out some of the finer details-"
"Fine, sure, we have the deal, whatever you want now give it to me."
Alejandro had to hide the smirk that was threatening to form on his face. He had no idea his offer would work this perfectly. All he had to do was seal-
"Eva!" Noah snapped. "You just offered a human 'whatever they want' in a deal."
"...Oh." Eva realized.
"Yeah, 'oh'." Noah glanced at Alejandro. "And don't think I didn't see that look in your eyes. I'm proctoring your deal."
"But-" both Eva and Alejandro tried to argue.
"It's happening."
With that, the two negotiated for a fair deal. Eva could stay in the human realm specifically to download as many songs as she wanted for her mp3 player, and to help Alejandro in his revenge. After that, she'd go back, and the mp3 player would be hers forever.
They both agree to it, and the deal is set. Noah and Eva spend some time catching up while Eva searches for music. Noah insists on catching up in private, which he obliges. After two failed attempts to eavesdrop.
The three of them plan exactly how to best humiliate José. Alejandro hadn't known quite what to expect with Eva, but he was pleasantly surprised. Her ideas were simple, direct, and brutal. They contrasted with Alejandro and Noah's more elaborate plans until they came to a consensus.
The party happens, and everything is set in place. Eva is invisible to everyone else, and is preparing elsewhere. Alejandro just needs to stay away from his brother so he doesn't realize something is amiss with Noah.
Alejandro knows that this is the perfect time to put himself out there. Especially since José's reputation is about to be shattered. He'll be remembered as the good Burromuerto this time around. Talking comes as second nature to him. All he has to do is talk, and just ignore Noah.
Noah, who's not having a good time at this party. Despite being invisible, his eyes are darting around everywhere as if they could see him. Thanks to being invisible, he's constantly having to avoid feet stepping on him. He's sticking as closely as he can to Alejandro, though he's not commenting on it at all.
Alejandro excuses himself to go to a more quiet part of the mansion forbidden to guests. Noah's visibly more relaxed as they get farther away from the crowd. But he does ask what Alejandro's doing.
Alejandro attempts to lie about being the one who needed space, but Noah shuts him down since he could see Alejandro lighting up when he talked to others. Alejandro will confess to noticing Noah and leaving since he knew Noah would follow. Their new partnership won't do well if one of them is in a near state of panic.
...Consider it returning the favor for the nightmare, if that helps.
Noah's quiet as he recognizes that this human is showing the closest thing to compassion that he can muster. He wants to say something, but the time of José's humiliation is nearing, and he wants to be there to see it. Alejandro makes his way back inside. He keeps Noah calm in the crowd by having him perch on his shoulder, and quietly making fun of the guests as they pass.
Eventually, José's breakdown begins. It works gloriously. He's swearing at other ambassadors. He's throwing things. At one point he's about to let loose of of the skeletons in the Burromuerto's family closet, but he's dragged away before he can. Alejandro has to hide his laughter, though Noah has no need to.
Unfortunately, it means that Noah has broken the deal on his end because he's intentionally let Alejandro beat Jose in something: not causing an international scandal. He gets pulled back to the demon realm and as punishment, can't answer any summons for at least a year unless it's for him specifically.
Alejandro's heartbroken to have Noah ripped away from him. He'd grown rather fond of having the demon around. He can't ask Eva for more help because she disappeared once José's scandal ended. He tries to find the book José used to summon Noah, but it was shredded. José was smart enough to guess that a demon had something to do with his irrational behavior.
Alejandro spends the next few weeks obsessing over finding the right summoning circle. His grades are slipping the tiniest amount, and he can't bring himself to care. He forces himself to sleep. He hopes that will somehow increase his chances of finding Noah. They feel empty without Noah to watch. He has no idea how to find one for Noah specifically, though he certainly does try. He settles for the next best thing: trying a generic summoning circle with the first gift Alejandro gave him as a conduit. Maybe he could at least find a demon who'd be willing to make a deal to help him get in touch with Noah.
This is incredibly dangerous and stupid, but the risk is worth it.
His stomach growls as he finishes the circle. He's been so focused on his work. He doesn't remember the last time he's eaten. He could leave to grab a quick bite-
No, no. He knows what this is. These thoughts aren't his. They can't be Noah's either. Noah's never cared much for-
stuffing his face until he can take no more. His body is a temple, and it deserves to be lavished. He's salivating, and must force himself not to run for the kitchen.
He's rewarded for his discipline with a large, blond demon who calls himself Owen.
He explains the situation to Owen, but no sooner does he utter Noah's name that Owen lights up.
"Ooooh, YOU'RE AL!!!"
Owen immediately starts going on about how Noah's his best friend. Which confuses Alejandro. He'd assumed Eva was Noah's best friend. She was stoic, blunt, and had common sense. She made sense.
This oaf with no volume control did not.
Owen keeps going on regardless of Alejandro's thought process. He completely outs Noah as being a mess thinking he'd never see Alejandro again. Noah was sleeping even harder than was normal for him, he was talking about Alejandro a lot you name it!
So of course Owen will be happy to get the two connected again!
Owen does want to give Alejandro Noah's summoning circle/number, but Alejandro did summon him so it does have to be some kind of deal. Uh...What's the nearest snack he's got? Owen'll take that.
He shares the information, then immediately leaves to go tell his little buddy that Alejandro plans to summon him.
Alejandro changes the circle to summon Noah with fervor.
When Alejandro summons Noah he feels as if every worry he's ever had has melted away. He wants to lay his head on Noah's lap and look up at him. He wants to reach up and tease his fingers through Noah's hair. He wants to trick Noah into leaning down so they can share a kiss and shift to nuzzling together. No more fighting to be on top. Just this once.
They're both blushing when Noah does get summoned because uh they both felt THAT. Neither of them meant that to be the way to confess but uh, whoops.
The two make a deal: "I'll help you get revenge on Jose until you're satisfied (knowing that with Alejandro, he never will be), and you'll let me stay in the human realm for as long as I want."
"Change that to for as long as I live."
"Still don't trust me?"
"I have to put some limits on you mi gatito travioso. Besides, now I know you have an investment in keeping me alive."
"You're terrible."
"Says the demon."
There are many ways to seal a deal with a demon.
They seal this one with a kiss.
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fatuismooches · 9 hours
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Self-indulgent Omega fic to help turn my writing brain back on, inspired by this brainrot. He is referred to as 24 in here as fragile reader hasn't named the segments yet. You two aren't the closest yet, but a chance encounter with the segment begins to change that. (I will respond to asks... eventually).
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After a few centuries-long coma, when you woke up, the hardest thing to process wasn't that fact. It wasn't the fact your lover, who now went by "Dottore" instead of "Zandik" was now a powerful Harbinger. It wasn't the fact you had to deal with this illness for who knows how long (actually, this was quite hard to process, but you tried your best not to dwell on it.) Rather, it was the fact that Dottore now had copies of himself running around. And if you were to properly adjust to your new life, you absolutely had to make room for them. But that was easier said than done.
They were all Zandik, but at the same time, they felt like strangers to you. They were familiarly enigmatic as you had remembered the original one, but you weren't sure if you were good enough to puzzle each of them out all over again... However, pursuing Zandik as a student meant that you certainly were a persistent soul, so you would try!
One of Dottore's segments that you were trying to crack was named 24 (he hadn't bothered to give them names for some reason). 24 was tall and imposing, authoritative even among the segments, despite their tendency to bicker with one another. He was also different from the other segments in a way, but you couldn't put your finger on what exactly it was, for some reason. Needless to say, intriguing (just like all the others). Unfortunately, your attempts to move this relationship forward weren't going the smoothest. You found that even building up your courage for numerous minutes still resulted in a dry throat and awkward moments of the segment looking at you expectantly.
However, that would change one night.
Sleepless nights were frequent when you were a student, but they seemed to have followed you even all this time later. At least, instead of studying and dealing with assignments, you were left to stare at the ceiling in peace or pull out a nice book to read until you became sleepy again. But this time, no option satisfied you. You wanted company. And so you set off to find Dottore. The walk was always nice, but it seemed like you were more tired than you thought, as you eventually realized you were definitely not going the right way in the maze of a building, evident from the recognizable doors of one of the main labs.
Well, you were already here, and you didn't want to walk all the way back. You should just enter and loop your way back around somehow. Judging from the silence on the other side, there was most likely no one else there either, which was good for you! And so you pushed the doors open, intent on entering until you saw him.
24.
He sat there unmasked, screwdriver in hand, carefully tweaking himself, a few other tools to the side as well. Wait, a screwdriver to his face? You squinted a bit more and that's when you realized he... had no face? Well, kind of, he had a mouth and squishy cheeks, but the upper half was replaced by mechanics instead. A gleaming red gem in the middle along with blue wires made up 24's face in replacement for actual eyes, You had no clue that this was what he really looked like.
You were a mix of shock and awe. It was surprising but you supposed you should have expected the segments, who weren't human, to have some features like this. And didn't Prime say 24 was the most recently made segment? More recent, more advanced, you guessed. But you also had a feeling you really shouldn't have walked in on this, so you should leave while you still could. Maybe 24 didn't notice you yet-
"It's awfully past your bedtime, isn't it, [Name]?" 24 hummed, continuing whatever modification he was doing calmly, not the slightest bothered by your intrusion, or by the fact you saw his face. You wanted to retort with something, but your usual attitude with Zandik seemed to die down around this individual that you had yet to become fully comfortable with.
"I could not sleep. So I took a walk." You glanced away from 24, then back at him. "What... what are you doing?" You asked, curiosity overtaking your nervousness.
"Simply performing some routine maintenance. I will be finished soon, and then-"
"Can I see?" The sudden, rather eager question from you, made 24 pause. You had always been quiet and a bit jumpy around him, so this sudden change in attitude had him interested. On the contrary, he thought that seeing this inhuman face of his would make you keep your distance more, but it attracted you? Not what the segment predicted, but he found himself enjoying the surprises you brought with you.
You, on the other hand, were reminded of the old days of helping Zandik put together and apart various contraptions. It was a mixture of 24's display and also the star in the middle, which reminded you of all the Ruin Guards you'd dissected in the Akademiya. It was quite fun. You wanted to see more. Hopefully, this could be a splendid opportunity to satiate your inner researcher and also get closer to the segment.
"Of course, if that is what you'd like." You walked up to him, steps full of caution yet fascination. The way his fingers maneuvered effortlessly with precision at something that appeared delicate - it was very cool, to you at least.
"You don't need a mirror or anything?"
"No, I know my body more than well enough."
"Do you have any sensation up there?"
"Yes, I can feel my own fingers when they brush against it."
"Can I touch you?" Though 24 had entertained your barrage of questions, it was this request that made him pause his work and stare at you. The red star that glimmered intensely at you suddenly made your nervousness go all the way up again.
"I'm sor-"
"Very well," 24 interrupted you, placing his hands on his lap, now looking at you expectantly. You held back a sigh of relief as you stepped even closer to him, giving his upper mechanical face an experimental tap. He didn't react outwardly, but you could tell he felt that. Gulping, you tried again, this time gliding your finger over the blue lines imprinted on the black background. And then the red star in the middle, you gave into the urge to press down on it like a button. Still, 24 seemed to be unbothered. Darn, you had hoped he was ticklish there or something.
Regardless, the area was pretty hard, compared to the softness of his cheeks, which you unconsciously slid another finger down to calculate the exact difference. Until a hand grasped your own, not too tight or too light, firm enough to make you jump.
"[Name], would you care to explain your reasons for such prodding?" Oops. 24 didn't seem very amused.
"I have no intentions, I am just interested in feeling you." As soon as the words came out, you realized how they sounded and rushed to clarify yourself. "Because I've never seen anything like this before! The technology is just interesting to me! As a scholar and all! You understand, right?" But alas, from the now growing smirk on his face, you had already lost.
"Is that so? I shall allow you to continue then, if that is what you wish. I would never block a fellow scholar's pursuit of knowledge," he grinned, pointy teeth grazing his lip as he let go of your hand. Ugh, he was definitely making fun of you.
"And, if you truly desire to obtain satisfactory results, you should come closer, no?" At that moment, the segment suddenly pulled you toward him so that you fell into his lap, legs draped over him and chests nearly pressed against each other. It was rather intimate - the only other lap you've been on was Prime Dottore's. But although your heart was beating quicker than normal, you liked how it felt...
"Better?"
"Yes," your lone word came out quiet, an attempt to hide your flustered state. But you quickly moved on, not wanting to endure further teasing. "S-So, how do you see? Since you have no... you know." 24 chuckled, relishing in the state he and he only reduced you to. But he decided to spare you this one time. He didn't want to drive you too far away now, did he, now that he finally had the chance to be alone with you.
"I have a Kamera installed inside."
"A... Kamera?" The unfamiliar word felt strange on your tongue. You never heard of such a thing.
"It is a device that takes photographs. A photograph is..." 24 pondered, trying to come up with the simplest definition for someone who hadn't had knowledge of the developments of the past four hundred years yet. "It is something that captures a moment of time in physical form." You furrowed your eyebrows at that. It sort of made sense, but it also didn't. How could time be permanent? From the expression on your face, 24 could tell you most definitely wanted to see a Kamera.
"I shall show you it-" you brightened up, "in the morning," and then deflated. "You have delayed far too long, and no one will let you sleep in." You pouted at this finality.
"But what if I want to stay with you?"
"I will accompany you back to your room, and wait until you fall asleep. Is that satisfactory?" You nodded, and then you were lifted into the air as 24 began to carry you effortlessly, making his way to dreary corridors.
And so you began to reflect in the segment's arms, which had gone from never touching you to holding you so intimately. You were surprised to see this side of the segment - you never thought he could act this way. But you suppose, if Dottore cares for you, then the rest of them really do as well.
"We should talk more," you said, just as he slipped you right back into bed. "It would be fun, I think." You don't know why you felt the need to provide a reason, perhaps because he was undoubtedly extremely busy and had better things to do than chat with you all day. And ugh - "fun"? That was such a stupid reason. Why would 24 care about fun? But he seemed to find your request attractive anyway.
"I have harbored the same sentiment for a while. I await our future conversations with great anticipation, [Name]." With a light feeling in your heart, greatly proud of yourself for your progress with the segment, the sleepiness began to settle in once more. The last thing you saw before you fell asleep was the red glow emitting from 24.
From the day he came into this world as 24, to the day you named him to live and die as Omega, he will love you.
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silverflqmes · 3 days
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hihi ellie ! i was wondering if i could request hcs with sugawara with a gymnast!reader (self projecting but i wanna see what ur thoughts on it are like <3) gn please <3 love u lots /p
໒⦂ 𝐆𝐘𝐌𝐍𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐂𝐒.
notes. hi hi luma, my memories of gymnastics and terms has diminished over the years bc i stopped at a young age, but i’ll try my best with this🫡
genre. fluff + crack
for @kurolumiis <3
koshi sugawara x gn!reader.
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⌗ sugawara definitely finds a way of balancing volleyball along with attending your meets ( i think this is the term.. )
⌗ loves to see you in your leotards all dressed up and sparkling, you’re like a shining star to him, certainly under the glow of the stadium lights<3
⌗ either made or purchased good luck charms for you to keep with you at any competitions you might have, especially if he cannot be there himself — but he tries his best to be!
⌗ should he have the time, he gets up extra early and prepares a nice meal for you to take with you if it’s an away tournament that he can’t attend, how sweet<3
⌗ your number one cheerleader!! i mean, have you seen him in the scene where he was like YAMAGUUUUCH, IPPON NICE SERVE!! yeah that’s him but cheering you on instead.. minus volleyball terms BUT DOES THAT SILLY MAGICAL GIRL POSE LMAO
⌗ he’s so proud of you out there he’s like YES THAT’S MY BABY OUT THERE SLAYING THE COMPETITION!! while holding a camera and recording BAH
⌗ helps you stretch if you’re sore and spots you if you’re practicing after hours and you don’t have someone to catch your limbs or prevent you from getting hurt in any way
⌗ SHOULD you get hurt, however, he’s got the first aid kit ready and you will likely get scolded for not being careful but it’s just him being worried about you cuz he doesn’t like seeing you hurt</3
⌗ loves when you attend his games, even if he isn’t on court 100% of the time, but y’know, appreciates it nonetheless cuz it displays you care for his interests as much as he does for yours
⌗ there was a leotard once that you were eyeing but was a little ( a lot ) out of your price range.. you had wanted it for your nationals, too, since you had gotten in — so sugawara surprised you with a nicely wrapped box once the results were in that you would be going, and it was none other than the leotard you were eyeing that day<3
⌗ out of curiosity, he asked you one day to teach him some things — i mean, the man can jump so high?? it’d be a shame not to try some stuff out..
⌗ and so you agreed to his request, finding it silly that he wanted to try what you do
⌗ it was safe to say that it was easier watching than actually doing.. and that trampolines made stunts MUCH EASIER THAN GYM MATS DID.
⌗ koshi still managed to do something from what you taught him, and albeit it a stunt as simplistic as running into a cartwheel going into a front handspring — it still warmed your heart that he took interest in what you do
⌗ it was also funny at times to hear him yelp cuz he was literally upside down for some things you had him try out LMAO
⌗ in return, after doing some much needed stretches to not have his body absolutely destroyed for practice the next morning, you had offered to try out his volleyball drills.
⌗ how hard could spiking be? ( if you’re short like me and aren’t the highest jumper — hard. but not as hard as blocking😵‍💫 although with timing it’s not as difficult.. )
⌗ it wasn’t as easy as it appeared from a distance, but it was still fun to do! a few sets later it would become a little more easier, and sugawara tossed in a way that was feasible enough for you to hit
⌗ brings you flowers on every competition, whether you win or lose he still brings them because you did really well out there regardless or the results!
⌗ just as he cheered for you during your meets, of course you also cheered for him during his like duh?? anytime he felt himself growing nervous — or the odds of winning had become close to zero, there you were lighting up his way<3
notes. that went a lot quicker than expected, i forget how easy hcs are LMAO but i hope you enjoyed luma<3 hearts to you from me /p and sugawara<3
↳ return to main masterlist . request rules . send an ask
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fairycosmos · 20 hours
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i need to forgive and let go (for situations aren't that serious to be objective, like arguments and misunderstandings), but I feel like I'm betraying my feelings, and my hurt and pain.
honestly, if you want my 2 cents and take this with a grain of salt - i don't think it's about deleting your feelings altogether. i think it's about letting them exist in all of their messiness while trying your best to control your actual physical behaviour that may occur as a result of those thoughts/emotions - it takes a lot of practice and most of us fuck up at it as we learn. but i think there is a way to process what you're going through in all its intensity, to honour those feelings of hurt and betrayal as as valid, while working on not allowing it to control everything you do and think. unfortunately, i don't think we can jump cut to the forgiveness part and that's ok. like you don't have to!!! it's not your responsibility to do that, it's your responsibility to try to approach what you're going through with self-awareness, perspective, sensitivity, compassion and honesty. which is a lot easier said than done. but more manageable than expecting yourself to be some guru of forgiveness and peace right away. you know what i mean? i think it's very normal and human to need time, even for small things. as long as you are making an effort to keep some perspective. x
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hockybish · 23 hours
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Maisie silently cheered as Luke shot the puck and it landed in the back of the net. It was the first goal of the game that got the ball rolling for the Devils.
She raised her camera to the opening in the plexiglass and snapped a few photos as Luke skated around celebrating with teammates. When the moment was over, she took a second to look through the pictures on her camera.
Luke was so happy and she loved seeing her hockey player so happy doing what he loved. He didn't need her to be happy, he had his family and hockey.
That's when the idea started creeping into her thoughts: he would be ten times happier if she wasn't in his life and she wasn't good enough for him. He was good, she was bad.
Maisie knew what needed to come next.
"Hey are you coming out with us tonight?" Luke greeted her after the Devils' win by wrapping his arms around her frame. Maisie looked distant. He hoped giving her a kiss would snap her out of whatever funk she was thinking about.
"No, I think I'm gonna go home." Maisie pulled away from the boy she thought she might be falling in love with.
"I'll come too. We can have a quiet night instead." Luke pulled her in closer in that was even possible. He just had this funny feeling that she needed him close by tonight.
"N-no" She suddenly found the floor really interesting as she untangled herself from his arms. Why couldn't leaving him be easier? "I want to be by myself." Maisie always what wanted to be with Luke.
"What's wrong Maisie?"
"Nothing. Nothing's wrong. I just want to be by myself tonight. Is there something wrong with that?" Maisie still refused to meet his eyes.
"Well then would you like me to give you a ride home?" He offered, it was the least he could do, he was a gentleman after all. He could spend a little more time with her if he drove her.
"Nope, I can manage" Maisie declined the kind offer.
"You didn't drive, how are you gonna get home?"
"Don't worry about it, Luke, I'll be fine." She had already ordered a car from her preferred ride sharing app to pick her up. She sort of had a plan.
"I'm always gonna worry about you, you're my girlfriend and I love you!" Luke raised his voice. He took her hands in his, gripping them tighter so she couldn't run away. "Maisie girl, what's wrong?"
"I don't think this is gonna work out, I want to don't us anymore." Maisie spit out the words. His hands went slack and she was able to easily slip them out. In a sense she was free, but she felt even worse than she did before
"What?" Luke mumbled shock at what his girlfriend told him. He could feel his heart started to tear into two. And he had more questions than he was sure she was willing to answer.
Luke figured she didn't really mean it. She just needed some alone time, like she said. Maybe he was being a little overbearing and taking up too much of her time.
They were fine.
Yeah they were fine.
She just needs the night, everything will be back to normal in the morning because they love each other. Although, that was the first time either of them had ever said it.
He dialed her number the next morning before practice. There was no answer and he left voicemail number one. He stopped by her place on the way in, he must have missed her, since her place was empty.
He spotted in her usual perch at practice, Luke wanted to go over and say something, but his attention was redirected when he started making his way over and when he finally got there she was gone again. When he got home he tried call again, once again he was sent to voicemail.
He began to worry again.
What if she really did mean it? What if she actually did break up with him?
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moonspirit · 2 days
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hello beautiful person! i hope you're having a good week! 🫶
how long do you think it'll take annie to utter the words 'i love you' after the rumbling, considering she’s never said that before and loving and being loved is just so new to her, and how long do you think it'd take armin to accept that she might actually mean it?👀
Hi Cris, thanks for the question :3 this is personally a favourite topic of mine T////T!
I think it'll take her quite a long time.
Because as you said, loving and being loved is new to her. The way I see it, Annie isn't someone who's very comfortable with talking about matters of the heart, especially when it relates to herself. She can summon sarcasm and dry humour well enough when it concerns someone else, but her? Her feelings? Her emotions? Good god no; the girl was barely able to meet Armin's eye on the boat and couldn't ask him about his "other girlfriends" without going about it in an extremely roundabout way.
But jokes aside, has anyone ever told her anything even remotely similar to such words before? Not her father. Nobody on the Warrior team before they split in Marley. Not Reiner, not Bertholdt. Paradis was the first place where she experienced something akin to friendship and the sensation of forming bonds with people, and even then she had to remind herself constantly who she was and what her purpose was to be. There was barely anything to dream of except maybe the dim hope of making it back home and live maybe a few bleak years with her dad before her life in this world ended unremarkably. She may have yearned for love and affection but there was no place in her world for it, and so it's not hard to believe she shut her heart off to the concept entirely. So when it actually comes to wanting to tell Armin those magical three words, it's going to be stuck in her throat for a long time.
That's not to say she's bad at expressing herself, physically at least. In general I think talking is so much harder than showing via actions; it's so hard to actually say something, while in comparison, expressing those suppressed thoughts through body language and the senses is much easier. So while Annie may not tell Armin out loud that she loves him, it won't be a difficult task for him to know and understand how she feels about him. (After all, on the boat, she was soooo red in the face huddling into herself that he figured out immediately that she likes him back). It could be in her clear blue eyes, or her gentle touches, her sweet and mild kisses, or her comforting caresses; the three words that he doesn't need to hear but can always, always see and feel.
Switching over to Armin though, I don't think that it's going to take much for him to believe it when she says she loves him. As in, there's not going to be any grounds for him to wonder whether she means it or not due to any "fault" of hers. Rather, if anything, it could be his own guilt and insecurity and self loathing that makes him wonder if she should love him at all, because he sees himself in such a poor light that there can't possibly be anything great that could draw her toward him and tie her down to such a pathetic guy. Taking this factor out of the equation tho, I don't believe he'd doubt what comes out of her mouth as far as respecting her honesty and truthfulness goes anyway.
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lawrencesbunnxiii · 14 hours
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𝙇𝘼𝙒𝙍𝙀𝙉𝘾𝙀 𝙊𝙇𝙀𝘼𝙉𝘿𝙀𝙍—"𝙈𝙔 𝙋𝙍𝙀𝘾𝙄𝙊𝙐𝙎"
A/n: Got an idea for co-worker Lawrence oleander lol<3
"𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙩'𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙚❟ 𝙞 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙠𝙚𝙚𝙥 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚❟ 𝙄 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙙𝙤 𝙖𝙣𝙮𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪"
tw: Murder, Kidnapping, Stalking, slightly too detailed descriptions with blood and injury!!!
₊˚⊹ ♡ ʚ🔪ɞ ♡ ⊹˚
Saturday, November 2nd, 9:00 Pm...
Saturday night, the start of a weekend, and a time to relax, right? No worries for the rest of the day, possible partying, and just a day to be by yourself or whoever, doing whatever.
the rain outside dripped down on the windows with soft patters, the soft hum of a tv show on the tv in the back, the silence linguring in the air, it wasn't something that bothered you. Atleast, not now. You sat on the couch comfortable, the week was tiring and a relaxing day was deserved after that madness.
this week was restless, constant bossy commands from your boss, running around the shop helping out and puting items back on shelf's, all that madness. Customers weren't better, this week even a random lady got angry at you and your coworker "for not doing your job right". What a pain in the ass.
the really only tolerable person there was your coworker, Lawrence Oleander. it didn't seem like he talked to you much, but he seemed to talk to you more than anyone else you seen him talk to. You've learned somethings about him, about his hobby with plants, and gardening, his black tattoo on both arms, his slightly nervous and introverted personalitly and how easily it can change to annoyed and pissed off.
Despite everything, he still made work easier and tolerable for you, since he was actually the only person who actually to seem to be doing his job. You wish you got to know him better outside of work but, you weren't sure if he even wanted to talk to you, and if he was talking to you because he had no one to talk to? you never figured that out.
Ofcourse, since the week tired you out, you eventually drifted off to sleep, the soft rain and rumble of thunder put you to sleep almost in a instant, but you were glad it did, you weren't sure if you'll dose off to sleep anytime with the many thoughts filling your mind, about everything.
₊˚⊹ ♡ ʚ🔪ɞ ♡ ⊹˚
Monday, November 4th, 10:02 PM.
You sighed as you took off your dirt and water scattered dark green apron. the convience store you and Lawrence both worked at had a gardening center, and since the two of you shared the shift where you'd be the closing shift aswell, it was automatically that boss wanted you two to water plants.
It's already 10:02, meaning it'd be closing time soon, Lawrence was helping a woman find a last minute item to purchase, a smile crawled up your lips at the sight, as you went to put some stuff in stock quickly. Lawrence went ahead and helped the lady, before going to you to help with materials to put in stock.
"Need some help?" he asked softly, his voice was oddly soothing and soft, that's what lots of people liked about him. You smiled a tad bit more brighter and warmer at his offer, a slight blush creeping up on his cheeks as you did, "yeah, it might go faster for us both to put all this in stock before closing up." he nodded, and went ahead to grab materials to put in stock.
Eventually, it was closing shift, Lawrence had already punched out, he walked towards you dressed in his normal clothes without his apron. "could you lock up?" he asked, "sorry, I just....have somewhere to be," he apologized, looking away gazing at the ground. You nodded, "sure, thats fine." you responded, "thanks," he smiled softly before exiting to the parking lot.
Punching out and locking up wasn't anything new of course since there have been times you've done it yourself, by yourself. But what was new was that odd vibe someone was watching you, you never felt like that at the workplace at all. But you brushed it off,
"it's nothing, I'm fine, it's just dark out and I'm alone I'm just paranoid." You thought, trying to soothe your nerves. Shaking it off, from the side of your eye, you swore you saw something but it was your imagination only...right? Maybe you need more sleep this week than you thought was enough last week...
pt2 ??
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trousle-ink · 2 years
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Owl house Undertale sprites, anyone? 👀
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quirkle2 · 2 months
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rewatched world domination arc recently and wanted to play around w styles a lil bit
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