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infinitegalahad · 1 year ago

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AMERICAN PROMETHEUS AND HIS ATHENA - EPILOGUE

Pairing: J. Robert Oppenheimer x Female Indentifying! Reader Summary: Looking up at the chalkboard, you see him. He’s Dr.Oppenheimer, but to you, he’ll always be Robert or Oppie. Word Count: 2.7k Warnings: Warnings are very spoiler, so well...be warned! Cancer, death, alcoholism, mentions of suicide (not by main characters and is mentioned once at the end), and overall a very bittersweet ending. Beware! This is in fact sad! Notes: for real, the end? it's here. not going to lie, i did get a little emotional writing this. the epilogue is loosely inspired by american prometheus, which made me cry in it's epilogue, just as it is doing to me now. this story has been such a rollercoaster, and I've had an amazing time writing it. thank you all for the amazing support, you guys really rock. I'm starting school soo and I'll be busy, but I'll get back into writing once i find my routinr. i hope you can enjoy this conclusion, and as a warning, apologies in advance! I love you all very much, and thank you so much for all the love! Taglist: @forgottenpeakywriter @queenshelby @chloriine36 @kodzuvk @amanda08319 Taglist | Masterlist

Marriage Certificate

Jurisdiction: Charlottesville, Virginia

Certificate Number: MCS123456789

Date of Marriage: June 1st, 1955

This is to certify that on the aforementioned date, in accordance with the laws of the City of Charlottesville, the following individuals entered into marriage:

Groom:

Name: Julius Robert Oppenheimer

Date of Birth: April 22, 1904

Residence: 91 Olden Lane

Bride:

Name: (Y/n) (Y/m/n) (Y/l/n)

Date of Birth: (Y/dob), 1921

Residence: 105 Ivy Dr

Marriage Ceremony:

Date and Time: June 1st, 1955, at 5:00 PM

Officiant: Dr. Allen Hill

Title: Authorized Officiant

Witnesses:

Name: (y/b/n) (y/b/m/n) (y/l/n)

Address: 10 Pennsylvania Avenue

Name: Hatomi Haruka Yamamoto-Bell

Address: 600 Dittmar Oaks

Under penalty of perjury, the undersigned parties declare that the information provided above is true and correct to the best of their knowledge.

Signatures:

_____________________________ _____________________________

Julius Robert Oppenheimer (Y/n) (Y/m/n) (Y/L/N)

Groom's Signature Bride's Signature

_____________________________

Dr. Allen Hill

Officiant's Signature

_____________________________ _____________________________

(y/b/n) (y/b/m/n) (y/l/n) Hitomi Haruka Yamamoto-Bell

Witness's Signature Witness's Signature

Seal: City of Charlottesville, Virginia

–

You and Robert married the same day of your graduation at UVA on June 1st, 1955. You let your parents know about your marriage and plans to move to Princeton. It took them time to process that you married your Physics Professor, but they accepted it once they met Robert and were impressed. They also enjoyed that you were only a train ride away from the city of Princeton.

Robert kept to his promise of no more games. He stayed loyal and steadfast and was honest and loving to you. He doted on and adored you, showering you with both affection and gifts. You had kept all of the gifts he had given you at Berkeley, occasionally using the new perfumes if you couldn’t look for all of the new floral scents Robert had bought for you. Despite you both being busy with your jobs at Princeton and the local private high school, you two found time for each other.

Your time together reminded you of those Friday study sessions at Berkeley, where you were a young girl and Robert was your professor who had been struck by “one of the most beautiful creatures he had ever seen”. Robert had helped you become a woman, and despite how many times you and he tried to move, you always fell back to each other.

With your newfound marriage, you and Robert could be in public together. Of course, there was scrutiny and controversy of the age gap and both of your involvement with the Manhattan project. Still, Robert could hold your hand, and you could lean on his shoulder. Sure, there stares, but those could easily be ignored. At the many lavish dinners you attend, Robert would put his hand on your hip and whisper into your ear nothing but sweet yet dirty thoughts. You’d look at all of the judgemental onlookers, and simply hugged Robert, brightly smiling at them.

It was one of those nights. It was like your Friday nights, but extended; talking about the day full of academics, making a delicious dinner, cleaning up said dinner, fucking either by the fire or on the bed, and lazing in each other’s embrace.

You had your back curled to Robert as he held you. That one night, he let go for a short second, before you felt a cold metal on your neck and the sound of a clink of a clasp.

“I saw this, and it made me think of you and the Bhagavad Gita,” Robert explained as he moved your hair back forward, “Do you like it?”

The necklace was a short gold chain with a pendant of the seven Chakras. You run your hand hovering the expensive gold and gems inside, smiling to yourself. You turn to Robert and place a peck on his lips, admiring the beautiful necklace.

“It’s beautiful, Robert. Thank you, thank you, thank you-”

You repeat this sentence over and over as you wrap your arms around his neck, throwing him down to the bed and decorating his body with kisses. Ultimately, the two of you end of lovemaking once again, and remind yourselves to rewash the sheets. Again.

The next week, you are forced to rewash your sheets as Robert, per usual, fucks you after the University of Washington last minute declines his offer to speak at their commencement ceremony. Like old times, you claw your nails down his neck and scream his name until he finishes inside of you, making your belly feel all warm. You smile and hope, for once, there’s some good news for the future continuation of you and Robert.

It takes many tries, but on January 5th of 1958, you give birth to Thaïs Jackie Oppenheimer. She’s a healthy baby girl. You nearly died giving birth, but it was worth seeing her curl into Robert’s arms as if it were a natural instinct. Even as a child, she’s got the blue Oppenheimer’s eyes and your fiery personality. After Thaïs birth, you remained in the ICU for a while. In a window outside of your room, you would see Robert in the distance as he overlooked Thaïs bed, talking to her and promising her nothing but the world. In your recovering pain, it made you cry.

Eventually, you returned back to work as a school-teacher, splitting your time with the au-pair while taking care of Thaïs. She’s a very vocal child, and like Robert, highly precocious. By the time she’s six, she can name every rock and flower in your garden by their scientific name. Not to mention, she can hold more basic conversation in Latin and Greek than you, thanks to Robert and his bedtime stories of Ancient Latin and Greek myths.

Dinner is a family affair. As the three of you all cook, you find it hard to keep up with Robert and Thaïs’s long conversation that switches between Greek and Latin, ranging from what to next in meal prep, the rocks Thaïs’s collected at school today, and what toy Robert will buy her next if she behaves. You can follow the basics, but you smile and keep yourself, cooing and kissing your newborn baby boy, Elias.

Each night, Robert worships you like you’re a goddess. As you read his book recommendations, he decorates your body with kisses and calls you his “temple”, thanking you for being the Athena to his Prometheus and giving him life. You could not be happier.

But bliss is temporal, not everlasting.

First, it’s the apparent hoarseness. Robert thinks it’s cold, but that’s until he’s coughing up blood two weeks later. Also, with the neck and ear pain, you grow worried, and unfortunately, your worst fears come to light. Robert’s heavy smoking did not help his case, and in late 1965, he was diagnosed with throat cancer.

You had quit smoking a long time ago, long before the birth of your children, but Robert continued. Since you had met him, he had always been a smoker no matter what, falling from a cigarette pack to multiple pipes a day. The cancer is infectious and both of you know it’s in fact very bad, and it’s only going to continue to get worse but not fast, but slowly and painfully. Robert has a persistent cough in which he tries to hide from you and the children but fails to. His skin becomes as gray as his thinning hair, and he’s losing weight faster than you can count.

After his diagnosis, there are many sleepless nights between you and Robert. You are both worried about each other in your own ways. One particular night, Robert sits on the edge of the bed. The bones in his back are visible, and you feel like you can see the bones in his back. He’s handsome, but so terribly sick all at once. Crawling from under the sheets, you quietly crawl toward him and hug him from behind. You sob into his shoulders, and he grabs your arms.

“Stop worrying,” He reassures you as he kisses your shaking palm, “You’ll be okay, love.”

“Robert, stop. It’s not about me. It’s about you,” You sob uncontrollably, “I’m scared, Robert. Not for you, for me.”

That night, Robert holds you and tells you that things will improve. He doesn’t promise it, though.

In late 1966, Robert underwent surgery, radiation, and chemotherapy, which were all unsuccessful.

Robert has done so much for you and protected you from so much. Now, it’s your turn to do so.

When he breaks the news that, realistically, he’s going to die within the next six months, you and his plan to bring Thaïs and Elias to Saint John.

Robert can’t do the things he used to do. Robert is still as handsome as he always has been, but he’s more frail and sickly looking, a shell of the man he once was. The only thing he can do is spend time with you and his children, valuing his time, which is running out faster than he can count. He builds wooden lodges with houses with Elias, collects seashells and rocks with Elias, and lies in your lap as you read him all of the old books and Greek myths the two of you used to read together.

Robert tries to make you a Martini one night, but he struggles in the kitchen. A glass drops and you run in, to find both of his hands shaking. He confesses to you that he can’t keep his hands still, and he can’t stop apologizing after. You smile, holding back tears, telling him it’s okay.

You, Robert, and your family soon return to Princeton. At that time, you call and invite people who are close to you, Robert, so he gets the chance to say goodbye. Kitty and his children come by. They're as devastated as you are, but they thank you. Kitty, for the first time, cries in front of you, and says you have a beautiful family; thanking you for taking care of Robert. You break down in front of her, and Kitty hugs you.

It’s clear that Robert’s in his final days of life. He can’t remember or speak coherently as he used to. Your children are very aware of this, and you prepare them for the worst that is to come.

It’s nighttime, and Robert’s in bed, saying he’s going to read a book that you’d enjoyed. You make him peppermint tea downstairs to help him fall asleep. As you make the tea, you can hear Robert’s horse voice as he talks to their children. If you bend your ear further, you can hear his voice shaking as he tells his children that he loves them more than anything, and to treat you, their mother, with nothing but love and respect.

You go upstairs with the tea you’ve prepared for Robert. He thanks you and smiles as if he’s seen you for the first time, refusing to let go of your hand with a weak grasp. As you change quickly into your pajamas, you jump into bed with him and hold him carefully, not wanting to hurt him.

“Sweetling?” He says your term of endearment in a sing-song voice. You look up, fully attentive.

“Yes, Oppie?”

With a trembling hand, he holds out an aged navy book with gold print; Hades and Persephone.

“Can you please read this to me?”

Once you grasp the book, tears begin to form in your eyes. As much as you want to cry, you hold your tears back and nod your head. Leaning against Robert, you open to the book’s preface and see all of his annotations inside. Some of them are about you. You’re about to start reading when Robert, in his classic fashion, grabs your hand and holds it to his chest.

“Y/n?”

You don’t look over as you close your eyes.

“Yes, Robert?”

“I love you, y/n”

A tear falls down your cheek, but you don’t let Robert see it.

“I love you too, Robert.”

That night, Robert falls into a coma. Three days later, he dies. He was sixty-two years old.

Once you have the funeral and dump his ashes into the US Virgin Islands water, you and your two children move down to Williamsburg, Virginia. You don’t want to be in Princeton anymore, as if it reminds you of Robert. Your family recommends you move back to New York City or Charlottesville, but you refuse; they all have Robert’s name written on it.

In Williamsburg, you grieve heavily at losing your first and only love, but motherhood keeps you busy. You get a job as an assistant professor at William and Mary, and just as you usually do, you cope with the pain until it becomes numb, losing yourself in your work and children. It’s what Robert would want for you.

Each night, after you make dinner by yourself, you go to your room and drink, reading all of Robert’s books from his reading list that shaped his mind.

One night, you’re drunk and sad. You’re primarily drunk at night, hazy and unaware, but some nights you are sad, not always. A ten-year-old Elias walks into your room, asking why you are crying so much.

For a second, you think he’s Robert with his big blue eyes and puff of dark hair, which makes you sob even more.

After Robet’s death, Kitty writes to you frequently to ensure you’re doing okay alone with the kids. You write back, and in her final years, the two of you build a friendship until her untimely death in 1972. You speak at her funeral and say in your speech that you hope she’s reunited with Robert.

Thaïs and Elias both grow into fine adults. Thaïs goes to study chemistry and history at Davis while Elias studies nuclear physics at Princeton, which you know would make Robert proud of both of them.

Toni, Oppenheimer’s daughter from Kitty’s marriage, committed suicide in 1977. Robert gave her the ranch in New Mexico. Peter refuses to take it, so it’s given to Thaïs. For Thanksgiving and Christmas, you meet Thaïs and Elias there to celebrate the holidays, taking them horseback riding to explore the beauty of New Mexico that Robert once showed to you.

Thaïs and Elias grow old, and have their own lifes. They stop visiting for holidays, as they are preoccupied with their own families and affairs. You never get angry at either of them for doing so; it’s human nature.

And so you retreat back to the island of St.John, where your beach house is. It holds both fond and sad memories of Robert, especially within his last years. It’s probably not the best idea if you are out there alone, but you manage to keep yourself distracted with the television, books, and old photos surrounding you. You keep yourself busy and entertained, only getting sad at night about Robert.

One night, you’re reading on Robert’s old chair. There’s a peppermint tea that’s untouched by your side, along with a fully drinken bottle of wine. With a blanket over you, you read Robert’s old, annotated copy of Hades and Perspehone. You’ve read it a thousand times by now, but the story never gets old to you. It will never get old for you.

As you reach the end, in which Persephone stays with Hades, your eyes begin to feel heavy. Your hands and fingers feel tingly and heavy. With your eyelids feeling droopy and breathing feeling short, you rest your head back and into the chair. Everything slowly goes back. You're not sad to be going; infact, you’re happy.

Sometime later, you awaken in a hazy world. It’s an alternate reality since you feel much younger, sitting at a desk, and looking down at your book; it’s an introductory book to Physics with your navy notebook, your name taped on the side.

Looking up at the chalkboard, you see him; Robert. He’s Dr.Oppenheimer, but to you, he’ll always be Robert or Oppie. He’s got his cigarette in hand, and those damn blue eyes that you loved. Oh, how you’ve missed them. He looks directly at you in the class, and you directly at him. There are people talking, and while they are close, their voices are nothing but mindless mutters.

Robert smiles at you.

Your heart skips a beat.

You sigh and smile right back at him. At last, you’re home.

#carrie writes #cillian murphy #oppenheimer #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x reader #oppenheimer x reader #robert j oppenheimer #j robert oppenheimer #robert j oppenheimer x reader #j Robert oppenheimer x reader

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iron-embers · 6 months ago

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Um…sir…

Sir…..please there are children around🫢🫣😳

(Dear god why is this un wifed man looking that disrespectfully fine😂🤣)

Good evening, could you draw shinjuro rengoku? please

unwifed man.(ok im sorry)

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makaybee · 2 years ago

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I have not once-in six whole years sicne I started playing this legacy-properly introduced my OCs. So here’s some fun facts and a little background info.

Aside from the fact that he remained Valedictorian throughout high school, and placed first in every track and field competition he ever competed in, Dash was an average kid. Like almost everyone else his age, he enjoyed hanging out with friends, playing video games, and doing cannon balls in the hot springs. Okay. Well, maybe not everyone did the latter, but the point is, he was a typical kid.

“Danger” is not actually his last name. It's the gamer handle he used during his college years, which in fact, was adopted from his mother's call sign. At that time, he knew very little about his mother, Hatomi's, time in the Sim Force. He just thought her call name was cool. It wasn't until later he found out the story behind the name. Unfortunately, the reason she became known as “Danger” wasn't as cool and intimidating as it sounded, but that's a story for another time.

Bored with the monotony of life, he once considered joining the secret service. Then he met Gigi in college, and everything changed. He was immediately smitten, because you know, she's so darn dazzling and beautiful. But mostly he loved how she laughed way too loud at his corny jokes. Or the way her nose creased when she was deep in thought. Or maybe the way she embraced her curves and walked with her head high- her thick curly hair, a halo of glory. Boy was that crown sparkly, and he loved it!

Despite his attentiveness, Gigi friend-zoned Dash for six years. Talk about patience! It wasn't until they started traveling the world together, that lines became blurred. When a sim pulls out your chair, opens doors, and listens to your heart, it’s kinda hard to ignore. Eventually his persistence paid off.

#Sims 4 #TS4 #Gigi x Dash

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hatomiwindowfilm · 3 days ago

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PHIM CÁCH NHIỆT NHÀ KÍNH HATOMI

HATOMI – Window Flim

Chuyên cung cấp và phân phối các sản phẩm phim cách nhiệt nhập khẩu chính hãng

- Tư vấn thi công các sản phẩm phim cách nhiệt nhà kính cho tòa nhà, chung cư, văn phòng và nhà ở.

- Với khoảng 40 sản phẩm đa dạng từ các dòng tiêu chuẩn như Glue Film, Dyed Film đến Nano Ceramic cao cấp, chúng tôi đáp ứng đầy đủ các nhu cầu về phim cách nhiệt, mang lại lựa chọn phong phú và chất lượng.

- HATOMI tự hào là một trong những đơn vị có khả năng cung cấp số lượng lớn nhờ hệ thống kho vận mạnh mẽ và nguồn hàng phong phú, với hàng nghìn cuộn phim sẵn có tại Việt Nam.

---------------------------

Liên Hệ Ngay

Địa chỉ: Số 46 ngõ 75 đường Phú Diễn, P. Phú Diễn, Q. Bắc Từ Liêm, TP Hà Nội

Hotline: 0916.136.111

Email: [email protected]

Website: https://hatomi.vn/

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thclioness · 11 days ago

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A altivez dos passos diz que é nobre o sangue que corre em BRIANNA HIRAI. Sendo ASTUTA e ARISCA, ela foi escolhida como hospedeira e protegida de BASTET. Aos VINTE E SETE ANOS, cursa o NÍVEL I. Sua reputação é conhecida além das fronteiras, e dizem que se parece com yumi nu.

𝐼 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑡𝑎𝑚𝑒, 𝐼 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑙𝑒 𝑡𝑖𝑙 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑖𝑟𝑐𝑢𝑠 𝑙𝑖𝑓𝑒 𝑚𝑎𝑑𝑒 𝑚𝑒 𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑛; 𝐷𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑦 𝑓𝑜𝑙𝑘𝑠, 𝑤𝑒 𝑡𝑜𝑜𝑘 𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑎𝑙𝑙 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑡ℎ

connections; playlist;

✴︎ dados

nome: brianna “brie” hirai

idade: 27 anos

zodíaco: 🌞 sagitário; 🌜 escorpião; 🔼 leão

godess: bastet

kinnies: mei (atla); azula (atla); sring venka (the poppy war); arianne martell (asoiaf); claudia (the dragon prince); rosalie hale (crepusculo)

hatomi: seon que possui uma coloração dourada, como ouro líquido, com tons de um preto extremamente profundo e detalhes em preto onyx e um tom de vermelho profundo como granada.

✴︎ resumo

Brianna Hirai sabia como era ser dolorosamente bela. Desde muito jovem aprendeu que quando se é dolorosamente bela o mundo decide que você é uma criatura especial, e precisa ser tratada de forma diferente. Ela sabia que quando se tem uma aparência como a dela as pessoas podem ser divididas em duas categorias. As que desejam te proteger como se fosse um objeto precioso, um vaso delicado de porcelana trancado dentro do armário, apenas para ser admirado e nunca útil. E haviam os monstros, aqueles que desejam te destruir pois sua única forma de prazer é através da destruição de coisas adoráveis. Ela havia visto o que ser dolorosamente bela havia feito com a sua irmã mais velha, como ela era mimada e adorada por todos que a encontravam. Como ela atraia olhares quando entrava na corte e como os pretendentes se alinhavam para ter uma dança, um toque, um olhar. Também sabia o que acontecia quando um desses pretendentes era um monstro mascarado, quando os sorrisos se transformavam em carrancas e ele decidiu parar de pedir e apenas tomar o que desejava. Viu o brilho de Ariana sumindo pouco a pouco, viu seu corpo definhar, sua vontade de continuar a viver sumindo pouco a pouco. Também viu como as pessoas começaram a tratá-la depois do incidente. Como se estivesse quebrada, como se a beleza antes venerada por todos agora era um motivo de vergonha, os olhares desviados quando entrava nos salões, os sussurros sobre quem era e como tudo que antes a tornava especial agora era um motivo de vergonha. Antes mesmo de receber a notícia, Brianna sabia que sua irmã havia morrido antes mesmo de seu último suspiro.

Brianna estava determinada a não ter o mesmo destino. Tinha apenas catorze anos quando tomou essa decisão. A perda de Ariana, transformou a garota que adorava dançar nos bailes em alguém de poucas palavras, a simpatia se tornou rispidez e os sorrisos se tornaram expressões de desdém. Ela não seria um objeto belo e delicado. Se jogou em seus estudos e trancou seu coração gentil atrás de uma armadura de gelo. Em seus anos em Hexwood se dedicou em se transformar naquilo em que sua irmã nunca teria a chance de ser. Ela aprenderia tudo, treinaria seu corpo e sua mente para que nunca fosse vista como algo frágil a ser conquistado. E estava pronta a destruir quem quer que se atrevesse a tentar.

✴︎ headcanons

𝔦. Brianna sempre foi muito vaidosa, com o tempo isso se perdeu um pouco, o maior vestígio desse traço de personalidade é seus lábios constantemente pintados de um pigmento vermelho vibrante como sangue.

𝔦𝔦. É desde muito nova bastante interessada em facas e tem uma mini coleção delas sem que ninguém saiba.

𝔦𝔦𝔦. Quando descobriu sua deusa na cerimônia de iniciação ficou horrorizada e achou que fosse uma piada de mal gosto porque a deusa representa muito do que Brianna era no passado. Hoje ela já aceita melhor sua conexão com a divindade, apesar de não manifestar isso tão abertamente.

𝔦𝔳. Em sua orelha esquerda, Brianna tem um brinco com a pedra de nascimento de cada um de seus irmãos, atualmente contando com cinco furos.

𝔳. Gosta muito de doces e um bom bolo é o caminho mais rápido para seu coração.

penned by: bambi (ela/dela)

#⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ 𝔦. 𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 : pinned

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iron-embers · 7 months ago

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The post that inspired this one by the lovely @bloodbladesanddemons

The younger years

While the Rengoku children are quite well behaved usually, they have their little quirks (Hatomi adores them all the same but it has its moments). Kyojuro loves anything out of the ordinary, especially big Bugs….though safe to say Senjuro is not a fan. Add a strange fascination with trying to keep the beetle as a pet, with a younger brother with a highly impressionable imagination, and you get Hatomi having to be the one to say no when Kyojuro gives her the pleading look.

Dad says no to Animals but not to bugs right?

Hate to break it to ya Kyojuro, but I think that might be worse. Hatomi knows this would not end well if Shinjuro found a giant bug in the living room.

Hope ya like my randomness, and stay tuned!

Art and Hatomi are mine

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sakurasmis · 10 months ago

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TOP 10 TRƯỜNG MẦM NON HÀNG ĐẦU KHU VỰC TRUNG VĂN

Các bậc phụ huynh đặc biệt quan tâm đến giáo dục mầm non khi bắt đầu giáo dục. Cha mẹ luôn muốn con mình phát triển toàn diện về mọi mặt bằng cách tìm trường học tốt, sử dụng phương pháp giáo dục hiện đại và được yêu thương, tôn trọng. Dưới đây là thông tin về những trường mầm non hàng đầu trong khu vực Trung Văn hàng đầu, được khuyến khích cha mẹ xem xét để họ có thể dễ dàng chọn lựa.

1. Trường mầm non Song Ngữ Sakura Montessori – Tố Hữu, Nam Từ Liêm

2. Trường mầm non Song Ngữ AN – Tố Hữu, Trung Văn

3. Trường mầm non thực nghiệm HATOMI – Bắc Hà, Trung Văn, Nam Từ Liêm

4. Trường mầm non Quốc tế Little Sol Montessori – Mỗ Lao, Hà Đông

5. Trường mầm non Song ngữ KinderSea – Tố Hữu, Trung Văn

6. Trường mầm non Mia Montessori – Trung Văn, Nam Từ Liêm

7. Trường mầm non GCA Ecolife – Tố Hữu, Trung Văn, Nam Từ Liêm

8. Trường mầm non chất lượng cao Ruby Kids – Mỗ Lao, Hà Đông

9. Trường mầm non Clever Kids – Văn Quán, Hà Đông

10. Trường mầm non Thành Đồng – Phùng Khoang, Trung Văn

#truongmamnonquocte #truongmamnon #sakuramontessori

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baileyartblog · 7 years ago

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Redesign of my old Naruto OC, Hatomi! Not to be mistaken for Hitomi, who is the reboot, non-ninja version of her

I’ll post the speedpaint of her in approximately 500 hours because everything is slow

#bailey draws #oc #hitomi #hatomi #ninja #naruto #fancharacter

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iron-embers · 3 months ago

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EVERYTIME I SEE YOUR WRITING! Oh my dear god I’m going feral over here with how much I LOVE THIS

I dunno how you did it, but you managed to capture the chemistry in the interactions between Hatomi and the Family beautifully!!! I can’t with how cute the boys are in this Absbsjsjsmsvsgadfag, and Hatomi is just *Chefs kiss*. YEEEEAAAHHHHH, the way you wrote her is perfection!

And might I just say…….Shinjuro is perfect! You got him figured in this and I already read this 10 times, and am still reading again😂🤣😍. Thank you again, so happy to be a follower to support your awesome work….and now gotta draw something for this!!!

To Where The Hand Extends

(This is the promised raffle prize for @iron-embers. If Shinjuro comes out too ooc I apologize it's my first time writing him. Warnings for mentioned drinking and alcoholism concerning Shinjuro and mentioned death concerning Ruka. Hatomi belongs to iron-embers. I had to look.up so many japanese dishes lmao.)

The day was beautiful this morning.

With the sunlight sinking into the room through the window as the ball of light was nearing to setting within a few hours. The birds singing outside. Beautiful fresh smelling air. Beautiful visions of nature right outside of you looked. A bright blue sky. Fluffy white clouds. Yellow sun. Flowers of every color. Green plants everywhere. Trees providing shade as the wind rolled by. A little blue pond in the distance full of fish.

Yes.

An absolute picture perfect scene for what could very much be a good day. Nothing in the world to worry about. Nothing to do. Just peaceful quiet and nature. It's why she left most of the windows and doors leading to the outside open today it could get rather stuffy inside. The gentle noises of dishes being moved about the kitchen area along with the distant sounds of a few pots bubbling away on the furnace. The heavy smells of delicious spices and not quite done yet rice lingered in the air before wafting out the mentioned open windows and doors. Small footsteps ran out from up the side hall and the chef knew without even looking around that a pair of eyes had found their curiosity wondering into the kitchen.

"HUNGRY!," A loud voice declared out.

"You're going to have to be patient now. Food doesn't make itself."

"What we having?!"

"Miso soup and onigiri."

A small chubby face scrunched up in protest. "Soup again?"

"There's leftover ochazuke from lunch if you don't want what I'm making for dinner," her calm voice replied back despite the smile that still plagued her features. Petite hands reached out to grab a potato while the other held up a sharp cutting knife above the chopping board. "And we're having all the leftovers tomorrow night. We don't waste food around here."

"Can't I have some momiji instead?"

Her eyes turned, head looking over her shoulder. Potato sternly pointed out to seven year old pouting in the doorway. "You're not getting any sweets unless you eat something healthy young man. It'll spoil your appetite and give you a stomachache and it's not healthy."

His response was to pout more buuuut his mad face only made him look like an adorable chubby hamster. "That's an old wives tale! Just like saying the Boogeyman is gonna come out of the closet if I don't sleep."

"My answer is still no. Now go wash up. If you don't eat anything good you won't be getting desert and that's that."

Softer but heavier sounding footsteps came down the same hallway just as the first fiery haired and eyed boy stomped away as all upset children do and second later a second child stood in the doorway. He was a perfect mirror copy of the first boy only older by about six years at thirteen years old and he was smiling instead of pouting like his baby brother. Kyojuro always seemed to be smiling to be honest and it was no exception for when he curiously watched his brother go before looking back on her.

"What was that all about?"

Her smile never left as she went back to what she was doing before, trying to chop up this potato. "He's upset with me for not giving him dessert on demand." The sounds of chopping filled the air as the knife easily sliced through the potato at last. "Although he does seem a little crankier than he was a little while ago. I wonder why."

"Oh...It was Father actually."

Chop-

The hands paused in their movements. Knife resting between two potato slices as her head turned back to him. Blinking wide eyed before a sigh left through her nose and a frown settled upon her face. Oh. Their father.

"Oh, I see. ..What happened?"

His orange eyes sadly looked at his shuffling feet. "W-Well.. There's a festival in town A-And we wanted to go bu-bu-but...Father said it was a waste of time."

"Oh..Well I'm sure he didn't mean it like that. He's probably just tired and cranky right now."

"No. He always says no. Every year...he doesn't like it when we ask him." Young eyes suddenly lit up in a pleased idea as he looked at her in a gasp and clenched his fists in excitement. "I know! Can you take us instead!?"

She blinked at him but couldn't help but smile at the cute face he made while all hopeful. "You want me to take you? Really?"

"Uh huh! You're really nice and responsible and he thinks you're really pretty so of course he'll say yes!" He ended that surprising sentence by throwing his hands up. "So will you ask him?!"

Her eyes blinked again slightly surprised. "Pretty? I doubt that."

"But you are pretty, Ms. Hatomi! You're about as pretty looking as a sweet potato!"

His sentence made her giggle again as she shook her head. "Well thank you. I'm glad you think so."

"So you'll ask?!"

"Alright. I'll ask him when dinner's ready. For now go wash up with Senjuro-"

A rush to her legs made her look down as two arms wrapped around her waist in a tight hug as Kyojuro hugged her tightly. "Thanks, Ms. Hatomi! You're the nicest person ever!"

Her smile didn't wain as she patted the top of the young boy's head. "Thank you. Now off you go. Food is almost ready."

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Soft footsteps echoed throughout the hall. The delicious smells of the food in her hands on the tray. The soup in the bowl sloshing around slightly with each sway from her steps through the late evening. There was still plenty of light outside but it was nearer to sunset now about maybe one or two hours away. Hey that didn't stop her from walking down the hall and stopping in front of the one door in particular. One she's already visited two times today to deliver breakfast and lunch. Carefully balancing the tray into one arm, she reached out her other hand to knock on the door just loud enough to get anyone inside's attention.

"Master Rengoku-san? I brought you dinner. Can I come in?"

If no one answered then that meant he was passed out again in which case she'd just leave the food by the door and come back later, however a loud grunt from inside gave her all the go ahead she needed to use a foot and slide the door just enough to peek in first.

The room was dark inside despite the sun still being out. She saw why when her eyes saw the shutters still closed tightly on the windows and the only source of light being the crack in the doorway and a single candle lit on a table in the far corner.

"What is it? Can't you see I'm busy!"

Silvery light collided with the dancing gold of the flame in a beautiful glow making shadows dance against the walls and furniture. Reflection beaming off eyes unblinking within the strange alluring mixture of darkness and lights. The motions of writing ceasing in their motions completely and the emotions taking over. The one whom was working stopping to set the feather back onto it's rightful pedestal and sitting there unblinking. The one who had the emotions stirring around from his mind and down to his heart. Those eyes turned slowly, head turning to the doorway behind him as he sat as his table. The area behind him was dark, and almost hard to see but he saw what the eyes were searching for. Her head peeking in through the doorway and staring back to the man sitting on the pillow in the otherwise dark and silent room.

The master of the entire Rengoku estate. Sitting there with paperwork of some kind unfinished in front of him and a tired look to his face as she quietly shuffled in holding up the food tray in her hands.

"I brought you dinner, Sir." Nevermind she already told him once outside the door. "I figured you might be hungry by now."

Fiery eyes seemed to glow in the dark as they eyed her..and then the tray in her hands before turning back to stare blankly at the unfinished papers. "Bring it in then."

She smiled walking in with the tray gently over to where she had left the last tray taking note of how it was empty now with the dishes from that lunch being left on top. That's good. That meant he was eating today and filling his stomach with something other than the sake that was usually seen around him. He paid no attention to her as she gently slid the old one away from his side and replaced it with the newer one filled with the delicious smelling good. And despite himself, she caught his head tilting slightly towards it. Good. He was showing more interest in eating again. That fact alone made her smile.

"What is it?", he bluntly asked.

"Miso soup and onigiri. I figured it'd be a nice day to have onigiri since a festival is going on in the next town over," she answered just picking up the tray.

"Is that right?"

"Mm hm...You know Kyojuro was just telling me about it today. I was told there's going to be a Kabuki theater there. It sounds like fun."

"Did that boy of mine put you up to this? If you're here to try and get me to change my mind then you can forget it!" A finger harshly jabbed down into the wood of the table. "Those two are staying HERE where they belong and studying until I decide they're improving!"

"No one put me up to anything." Maybe it was the matter of fact way she spoke of the fact she didn't react to his anger at all but he was taken off guard every time she looked at him like that. The silent calm stare that was both full of disapproval and sadness at the same time. "I was only stating that it sounded like fun. After all everyone has need for a break sometimes."

"And sometimes someone needs discipline to make them learn."

"And sometimes someone can push someone else so hard to do something so much of the time that they burn out."

He flinched. Hard.

"But that is only my opinions on what might happen to someone if that happened, not that it is happening to anyone else I know." Her body bowed at the middle before turning her body. "I'll come back in a few hours to see if you're done eating."

"... Where's this dam festival at anyways?"

She paused in the middle of stepping away, head turning back to him but he didn't look up from the papers on the table in front of him.

"Just in the next town over. It's not even an hour away."

".....I want EVERYONE inside before any sunlight disappears. I do not care what any of those boys have to say."

It was curt, blunt, rude, and with a small time limit for fun...But that was a yes. An actual yes without even saying yes.

She nodded. "Of course. We do that every night." She went to leave aga-

"Hatomi."

"Yes?"

"The lunch you made me."

"Was it too much? I can make the portions smaller if you prefer or maybe you didn't like how I made it?"

There was a long moment of silence between the two of them but she couldn't leave until he finished talking to her. He remained silent sitting there still not looking at her.

"..It tasted good. It could use s-..some more salt but it was fine."

She could not see his face otherwise perhaps she might've seen the way a pink hue coated his features and thank goodness for the dark or else she might've seen the glow to his ears. Instead she blinked slightly in surprise... before smiling wider.

"Then I'll be sure to add some more salt next time I make that dish."

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despair-to-future-arcs · 9 months ago

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Twilight Syndrome Murder Case - Girl D

[Part 1]

...

Date: July 7th, 2011

... *Mahiru had found out her former bully was dead in the music room, she couldn't believe this happen but it did, she had no idea what to do and thus was stuck...*

I-Isn't…it bad if we stay here much longer?

I mean, I don't want to get involved in something like this… And the killer might still be around, too…

That's bad! Uber bad! We better hurry up and run! *Ibuki rush out of the room*

B-But…Don't we have to report this to the police?

Don't you know what happens…when you report this kind of stuff to the police?

You become the prime suspect just because you found the body first. I definitely don't want that! *Hatomi walks out of the room as well*

Yeah…it'd be best if we left this room how we found it…just lock the door, leave everything how it was… *Hiyoko left the room as well leaving only Mahiru and Mikan*

Ah, hey! Please wait…don't leave me!!! *Mikan follows after them, scared to be left alone, leaving only just Mahiru*

... (Natsumi, seems she's dead...I never expected her to die like she did, I wonder what happen... who kill her? Maybe it was that pervert but that wouldn't happen; Natsumi usually has her knife...)

Ma-Mahiru? Are... Are you coming? You are aware that the police could come here, right...?

O-Oh uh don't worry, just go on ahead; I just need to check something; I'll be sure to lock up...

Okay... don't take too long... *Mikan walk away as Mahiru was left alone*

...Good, now to find out what exactly happen, I should check the body myself and see what else I can find; just like mom...

*kneels down and starts looking over Natsumi's body* Hmm, there looks to be some marks on the neck and looking at her legs, no signs of bruising or any bodily fluids around there besides her one injury and her own blood; plus the clothes are torn and her underwear isn't remove... she likely isn't rape...

Wait... where is her knife? Doesn't she usually have it on her? I wonder what happen...

Maybe that pervert took it? Hm, looks like there isn't much I can find.. I better take a picture just in case.

*Gets up as she snaps a photo of Natsumi's body* Alright, time to close up and return the key back where it belongs. I should get back home quickly before I get spotted.

*Mahiru left the music room as she lock it when she went to return the keys*

Okay now to get home... *As Mahiru was heading out of the staff room, she was heading downstairs but then notice something...*

Huh? Wait 4-A looks to be open, I guess someone must forgot to lock the room...

...I better see what happen there. *Mahiru went in and found what look to be a broken vase*

Wh-Whoa, what happen here - did the pervert break this?

Doesn't look like the windows are open... maybe I should take a photo just in case the police ask questions?

*takes out the camera and takes a photo* There, I should check this over...

*RING!* *RING!*

Huh? Oh... it's dad, wonder what he wants?

*answer the phone* Yes dad? Yeah I'm coming home pretty soon...

Oh mom is coming home too? Okay thanks, I'll be home right away. (I better get going, I don't want to get in trouble...)

*Mahiru walk out and headed downstairs as she was going to return home.*

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wanderer-stan · 4 years ago

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and ofcourse:

𝗛𝗮𝗶𝘀𝘂𝘁𝗲 || 『 𝗣𝗿𝗼𝗺𝗶𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗥𝗼𝗼𝗸𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗧𝗿𝗮𝗶𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗖𝗮𝗺𝗽 』

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infinitegalahad · 1 year ago

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AMERICAN PROMETHEUS AND HIS ATHENA - CHAPTER 5

Pairing: J. Robert Oppenheimer x Female Identifying! Reader Summary: You and Robert, of course, were a couple. A serious one at that; no more games, judgment, hiding, and dancing around the idea. But it came with its many hardships. Word Count: 6.0k Warnings: LOTS. Please read. Infidelity, messy relationships, minor blood loss, loss of child, cursing, and minor sexism (not from Oppie). Please read and heed with caution. Notes: THAT HAT. OMG. MY HUSBAND IS LOOKING SO FINE THERE. oops sorry for being horny on the writing account, next topic! folks, buckle up, this is a lot! not only is the longest chapter, but its got a lottttt of drama happening. we're talking infidelity, marriage proposals, trinity, kitty being a bad bitch, edward teller in sunscreen, my drunk writing, groves being an ass hole and most importantly; TWO sex scenes. apparently, y'all loved my smut, and i appreciate your compliments! there's one more scene to come *insert winky face* mwahahha. i also know i said this is ten chapters, but this story is nearing it's ending, so there's one more real chapter. I'm going to try concluding the story within the week. I've been packing for school and I've got a long drive on Thursday. I'm done with most of my packing, so I will try to release the final chapter tomorrow. the epilogue will be much shorter. this has been one hecka of a ride, and the next chapter will most likely be a lot of drama. once again, your support has been amazing, thank you all for everything! <3 Taglist: @forgottenpeakywriter @queenshelbyy @chloriine36 @kodzuvk Taglist | Masterlist

It was five in the morning, and yet it didn’t feel close to it. The sky was pitch black with not a star to be soon. The only light of the source came from the dim light bulbs and the headlights of the cars that surrounded you. You lay on your stomach beneath an uncomfortable mat with your hand edging the corners of the binoculars you held, the other hand reaching for the pain of sunglasses to block the light that would hopefully come from the test bomb.

Two years. Two years of potential hard work gone to nothing.

Awaiting the announcement of the detention, you laid and, in an attempt to hide your anxiety, thought about how the hell you ended up in the middle of New Mexico, working on some secret project for the government, and what it took to get you to be a small part in the Manhattan Project.

You and Robert, of course, were a couple. A serious one at that; no more games, judgment, hiding, and dancing around the idea. But it came with its many hardships.

The first straw was Kitty.

She was much older, and from what you heard, extremely intimidating. While you respected and honored her, you also wanted to avoid her, as you felt that she did not like you at all. Robert had told her he was in a relationship with a “young” woman, emphasizing “young”, and Kitty read him the riot act. Robert thought she was overreacting, but you sympathized and understood. All you wanted was to be respectful, and honestly, avoid her at all costs.

But of course, that didn’t happen. After one of your Friday sessions, which ended in Robert and you making love, you slept at this house and stayed until Sunday most times. You even had your own toothbrush and brush, using the feminine bathing products and flowery perfumes that Robert had gifted you. Hatomi had noticed and always said you smelled good. She had been having a possible affair with your French Literature teacher, but that was a story for another time.

That one morning, you woke up with Robert’s arm on your waist, and a child staring directly at you. You identified him as Peter, as he was the spitting image of Robert, minus the parts that very much looked like Kitty. Blinking rapidly, you thought it was some bad dream, but the broken truck and bright, sad blue stare made you realize that Kitty was here with her and Robert’s children.

You and Kitty didn’t take long to meet, with her being dressed and you being butt naked.

Both of you had to smack Robert awake, who was appalled at the situation. There stood his children in front of a girl who was closer in age to them than their father and a very pissed-off mother. Naturally, this needed a very long conversation.

Kitty glared at you while sitting on the couch with Robert’s shirt on. She, like Robert, smoked a cigarette; her cold eyes burning into your skin. Robert reached over to grab your hand, which you slapped away.

“So you’re his student?”

You gulped and looked down, nodding.

“And you’re getting your bachelor’s degree in what? The arts?”

“Maybe a Bachelor’s in both the arts and science, ma’am.”

She blows a puff of smoke into your face, making it feel very directed. As she gets up to get a drink, she eyes you and turns to Robert.

“At least she’s smart.”

As much as you really want to leave, Robert insists you stay too well, impress Kitty, and show her you can cook, provide, and care for him. It infuriates you, and as much as you look at the door, you force yourself to stay. You don’t have any clothes there, so you’re forced to wear Robert’s white oxford shorts and bottom lingerie shorts while working around Kitty. She blatantly asked if you had anything besides Robert’s clothes to wear, and you said no. She sighed.

As Robert plays with his children, Kitty and you decide to make dinner, together. She wants to make Robert’s favorite, which you know by heart; chicken, boiled potatoes, and peas. You tell her, at least advise her, that Robert now likes his potatoes mashed and his chicken with pomegranate seeds on it. Kitty holds a large knife, and you swear that she looks like she wants to stab you with it.

“Where do you get them from?” She coldly asks as she pours milk into the bowl to stir the potatoes.

You look up from sauteeing the chicken with garlic and respond, “Get?”

“The Pomegranate.”

“Oh, his garden,” Your face begins to grow red, “He didn’t know he had pomegranate’s in his garden–”

“Until you told him,” Kitty interrupts.

She stops cutting, and you stop mixing the chicken. There’s a shared silence between the two of you; filled with thousands of questions.

You scratch behind your ear and sigh, gathering yourself before you respond.

“Yes. He likes them a lot. I noticed Toni likes them, too. However, I shouldn’t–”

“You care.”

‘What?”

“You care about him a lot. I can see that,” Kitty goes on about. Once she’s done mixing the potatoes, she goes to the sink to clean the mixer. You can swear you hear sniffle.

“There’s no other reason why you would be using him, y/n. I can’t think of one because there’s none. You’re troubled, yet good. You may be young and naive, but you care about Robert. You take care of him, and I, well–”

Kitty can’t finish her sentence. She drops the mixer and tries to hide her contained sobs and hunching over the sink, but you notice. You walk over to try and comfort her, but Robert’s not far. His voice echoes along with the laughter of two children. Hearing this, Kitty pulls herself together and sniffles. She walks past you with red eyes. You want to ask, but you don’t.

You learn, through numerous sources, that Kitty did not hate you, nor was jealous. She, according to one person, adored you. You found that hard to believe, but every time you sent the children gifts,s he made sure to write you an apology note.

However, while you made room for Kitty, you utterly refused to make room for Jean Tatlock.

At that point in your relationship, you and Robert had been going on relatively strong. He’s your boyfriend, and your Friday meetings had extended to more weekly meetings, so with stays at his house. Some people know you are an item; some are disgusted, and some are happy. None of this bothers you and Robert as you continue to be a happy couple; until it’s not happy.

First, it’s the regrets. After each time you’d fuck, Robert would go on about how horrible of a man he is and how he can’t keep doing this. You do some further digging, and with some integration, learn that he’s not teaching next year. He’s off to some “secret location,” and within the mixture of his regret of “poisoning you”, he recommends that you two should simply stop and just leave each other.

Of course, this breaks your heart. Hatomi, and your other friends, are horribly worried about. Your lab partner in your chemistry class, George, can see that your eyes are red and asks if you are okay. You respond that you are, having a feeling that something else is going on with Robert.

At your next Friday meeting, you arrive early, but you don’t water the flowers, and you know why you don’t want to ever water them again. Robert comes to the door, ten minutes late, and when he opens it, you can see his collar is flipped up and his hair is a mess. As he takes a breath, you push past him and run up the stairs. You already see the pair of kitten heels by the door, and as Robert pleads for you to wait, you don’t. Once you turn the all too familiar corner to his bedroom, you hear a soft curse. It’s a woman’s voice.

Turning into his bedroom further proves your worst nightmare; another woman. Let alone, your own fucking psychiatrist; Jean Tatlock.

In your sessions with Jean, she’s been breaking more code of conduct, talking about the new man she's seeing, saying she’s having “one heck of an affair”. Based on her descriptions of him, from the lineage and nicknames, you put the pieces together, and all of them lead back to her and Robert.

“Y/n,” Jean calmly pleads. She covers herself with a blanket as she gets out of bed, “Stop. Wait. We want to talk-”

The words “we” make your eyes swell with tears. Spinning on your heel, you beeline towards the stairs, but bump into the person you least want to see; Robert. He puts his hands on his arms, but you violently shrug and push his chest away.

“Get away from me–” You hiss. As you back up, you sense Jean behind you and scream the same thing at her, “--Back, both of you.

“Y/n,” Robert gently calls your voice, holding out his hands, “I’ve been meaning to tell you-”

“Tell me fucking what?” You bark at him. You point your finger back to Jean, “Robert, honestly, out of all people, my fucking psychologist? The one who describes my medications? The person I tell everything too besides you? The one I saw today just two hours ago for my weekly session?”

Jean is sobbing behind you. You like her, but yet, don’t feel bad. She’s much older than you; she should know better.

“I had no idea–”

You scoff and let out a fake laugh, “Idea? Sure,” You look back at Jean, whose mascara is running down her face, “Don’t cry; you knew. You’re smarter than you look, you knew. You know my background, and you would go out of your way to do this? And now? We all fucking know. Robert, now we all know you were cheating on your little pure virgin girlfriend with her fucking psychologists, whom I considered to be one of my friends.” Looking at Jean, you say that last sentence, ensuring she understands you are no longer her client, let alone her friend.

Walking down the stairs, Robert grabs your arm and forces you to stop walking. You refuse to look back, but you can hear his breathing, which makes you scrunch your firsts.

“Y/n, I understand your anger. This is far beyond wrong. I wanted to tell you, but I couldn’t. I think it’s best that you take the time to finish your education and, if I recommend, mingle with others your age,” Robert explains with a condescending tone, which makes your blood boil.

“I can no longer carry the guilt on my shoulders. I used you for too long, and now it’s catching up with me. I’m sorry to do this to you, y/n, but I-”

You violently throw your arm back, shaking Robert’s hold on you. Through Robert’s breathing and Jean’s sobs, you storm down the stairs. Your face feels hot, and so does your body, but you ignore it as you stumble out of the house. Ignoring the calls of your name from Robert and Jean, you run out of Robert’s house and down the hill. Once you are away, you finally let go and let the hot tears run down your cheeks. Finally, the devastation and pain hit you like a bullet. When you’re not around any trace of Robert or Berkeley or any of it, you let out a screaming sob of frustration, anger, and sadness.

It takes you a short while to recover.

You no longer like to associate Robert with his name. Once again, he’s reduced to Dr.Oppenheimer; your terrifying physics professor with endless icy eyes and a tendency to smoke, not the man who took your virginity and showered you with expensive gifts that you refused to throw out. The relationship between you two has been severed and erased with your function serving as professor and student. Your meetings stop, at the end of the Semester, Robert gives you an A with an E for exceptional effort. Your parents receive your report card, and out of all your grades, are most fond of your Physics report. Dr.Oppenheimer writes that you are an active participant whom he had the pleasure of working with personally in the term. As they read out his comment, your memory flashes back to it all; the dinners, the music, the fire, the terms of endearment, and the whole lot of it.

Your mother, through a puff of smoke, remarks that he seems like an amazing man. Forcing a smile, you agree.

Once you return after the Holiday break, nothing much has changed in Berkeley. You’re still alone yet doing well academically, Hatomi’s on the verge of ruining a marriage, and you and Robert have not spoken, according to your calendar, in over two months.

And then you meet George.

George is your lab partner in Physics. You have known him since your orientation at Berkeley, from the forced events to the lackluster parties. He’s always had an interest in you, and has made it clear from day one; from wanting to be your lab partner to even asking Hatomi if you preferred chocolates over flowers. When you two would sit down together, he would always initiate small talk and ask how your day is going. You’d respond and spark up small conversations about your lives.

Into the first week of December, George asked after class if you wanted to go see Citizen Kane with him. He bought two tickets, and offered to buy you anything you wanted, but understood if you were busy since in his words, you seemed even busy on Friday afternoons.

You knew Robert was watching. You quickly glanced up and saw him at his desk, smoking as he pretended to observe tests when really, he was observing the interaction between the two of you.

“I’m actually no longer busy at all on Fridays,” You loudly say as you want the words to echo and burn into Robert, “And yes, I’d love to go to the movies with you.”

“I’ll pick you up at Stern?”

“I’ll be waiting.”

George arrived an hour before and took you out for an early dinner. You knew that he loved to read like you, but you also learned he was fluent in three languages and was overall extremely educated. He made sure to ask what you enjoyed, telling you to talk about your favorite books, movies, or anything that you loved. You had told him to read the first few chapters of Citizen Kane to familiarize yourself with the movie. George went red and said he had done the same, offering that if they enjoyed the movie, they could see together and talk about the plot.

The movie was good, and in addition to the soda and popcorn he bought you, he also took you back to his dorm and fucked you like there was no tomorrow. As he humped into you, you clawed at his back and looked up at the cycling. Everytime you close your eyes, you see and think of Robert. You forced George to look at you throughout the sec and kissed him patiently to void all thought of Robert.

There was no doubt that Robert was bothered by you and George’s interactions. You made it not so obvious that you were George’s girlfriend, while George did; from the hushed whispers and small touches he’d give you in class. While George would be doing such small things, Robert would be intensely staring from a distance with straghinted fingers and furrowed eyebrows. At one point, he changed lab partners in an attempt to keep you and George apart. You still worked together on every single lab, and to Robert’s dismay, aced every single one.

In the beginning, you remember Robert leaving flowers in your cubby during Labs since you’d always arrive about ten minutes early. He’d tuck them into the pocket of your lab jacket. Without fail, and everytime, you threw each flower out. Eventually all together, you stopped showing up on time and made sure to show with George.

Robert soon began to disappear from your thoughts and life. For the remainder of the year, you only spoke to him in class and nowhere else with cold, curt interactions. George had replaced Robert in all, shape, way, and form. It was strange to go with George since he was your age, and not in your former case, your thirty five year old Physics professor who cheated on you with your friend and phys-

But that was all in the past.

Two years had gone by. Robert was the thought of the past now and you kept yourself busy between obtaining a Bachelor of Arts and Science in Literature and Physics, all while maintaining a very serious relationship with George. You spent most summers with him on Nantucket sailing or collecting seashells. Sometimes, you’d think about the “what ifs'' of Robert taking you to New Mexico on a horseback adventure. That had once been a reality, but now would forever remain a fantasy. George reminded you that yes, there were good men in the world. You both had your many issues and ups and downs, but both of you agreed that infidelity was never on your list.

Eventually, each cycle completes itself for everything. During the fall of your Junior year at Berkeley, George proposes to you on a weekend trip up to Napa. He’s smiling the whole way through, and says he doesn’t want to wait any longer and heads straight to the courthouse to wed.

You want to say yes, you really do, but you can’t. No matter how many times you say you love him, you know that you love him as a confidant, but not a lover.

Rejecting his proposal, that ends every tie with George. Things are sour for a week, but Hatomi helps moderate a conversation between you two. George sobs, which in return, makes you cry. You apologize to him, and tell him he deserves better; telling him that if he sees a pretty girl, he should take her to the movies and buy her what she wants. George smiles and thanks you for loving him, hugging you, and wishing you the best of luck in your future endeavors. He writes you a letter, but you refuse to open it and leave inside of your copy of Citizen Kane, shoving it into your bookcase for it to gather dust.

After you and George are finished, there’s no time to grieve as you were being dragged into another situation. What seems like any other ordinary walk to your metaphysics class results with you alone in an office space with an intimidating general. He did not introduce himself, but you gathered his name as Major Groves. He held a thick file on you, questioning your life and digging into every little detail. He pressured you on your two brothers and roommates, who happened to be associated with the Communist party, asking if you had any association. You held your hands up and was nothing but honest; saying that while Hatomi still went to your meetings, your brothers had stopped talking about the idea once both of them married and had their own families.

Still, Groves persisted and became aggressive, accusing that your friends and you were some type of danger to democracy. Communism isn't your thing ever, but you had respected it. Many people you surround yourself with were either former communist or still into it, not that it bothers you. You thought of Robert; whom never associated, but you knew he gave money.

Which was strange. With your thought of Robert, you heard a silent shut. Groves sighed and you looked, and to your horror and saving grace, it was Robert.

“Thank god you’re here,” Groves let out a huff as he leaned against the desk.

“Major Groves,” Robert nodded his head as he took off his porkpie hat. He stood away from you, but beside your chair, “Is there any issue with Miss Y/n?”

Groves, still looking gruff, pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Well yes, and no. You see, I find it alarming that she has both family and friends in association with the Communist party. I also understand her, uhm,” Groves hesitated to say it out loud, “Former relations, according to you. It raises suspicious since well, she is both in association with a communist, many of whom who are female in which he know where that ends, and slept wi-”

You were about to walk out, not wanting to be dragged into whatever mess this way, but Robert’s calm voice echoed and immediately shut up Groves.

“General, on the defense of Miss Y/n, I can assure that her ideologies and gender are mennail to the subject of the meetings. As for our past relations, there are of the past. I ask that you not criticize or grill her without my presence,” Robert’s voice commanded. He looked at you and back at Groves, clearing his throat.

Your heart skipped a beat as you shifted in your head, clasping your hands together. Robert looked at you, and you returned his gaze, quietly thanking him.

Once Robert entered, Groves' interrogation stopped and he got what he pulled out of class. In his words, something “big” and “important” was occurring in an undisclosed location in New Mexico. You pieced together that a weapon of destruction was being built, since Groves brought up in your profile that your skills in Physics primarily resize in the nuclear and quantum mechanics, as described by the physics course taken at your time in Berkeley. You had even taken time out of your academic schedule and did research as a job with some of your professors. All of your Physics teachers concluded that you were extremely qualified and knowledgeable in Physics, and in one of them, being Robert.

Robert had gone on about your time in his class, saying that you were one of his brightest students, whom he had given recommendation should be part of said project. He said he was willing to talk with Berkeley to configure a way for you to leave and graduate on time to come and work on his location. Major Groves said with Robert’s recommendation, he would be pleased to approve your security clearance. Groevs also mentioned that he would give you time to figure out things with you, and also implying, Robert.

Groves had excused himself, leaving you and Robert alone. It had been two years since you two had been alone together, let alone really conversed. You still sit at the desk and look down, not wanting to look at Robert now, admiring your manicured nails in hopes that you wouldn’t chew off the nail polish.

“Thank you, by the way,” You muttered, “You didn’t have to.”

Some things never change, and you look up to see Robert, elearning against the desk as he looks at you, smoking out of a pipe.

“But I did. Not that I ever minded doing so.”

The tension never left, and both of you know it. Bouncing your leg, you lean forward and gather the courage to look at Robert.

“Why? Am I allowed to know why the hell I’m being dragged into this?”

“Y/n, you know I can’t say why. I can say that it is important, as you would say, in the grand scheme of the universe,” Robert explained, “We are small pieces, and this project is a much larger force. A force that can end all wars.”

Confusion still infects you. Some of this makes sense, while other parts do not. You think hard back to the past and Robert’s say on the war and weapons, trying to gather your thoughts on the situation Robert has dragged you into.

“The Germans are out of the war, that’s all I can truly think of,” You mentioned. Once we see Robert lean, your body compels you to lean forward as well, “Is this weapon of mass discussion?”

Robert looked uncomfortable by that saying. He shifts uncomfortably and stands from his desk, slowly making his way over to you. You want to protest and tell him to not, but you gravitate towards his presence. His hair is a little more gray, and he is still cold, but as handsome as ever.

“Call it what you want, but possibly. It’s a weapon to end all wars, ideally, the conflict in the Pacific,” Robert alluded to. You forgot how close he came to his desk. He puts his hands on the edge of the desk and you lean back, looking down. Your cheeks when red, reminding you of your younger days with Robert. Robert’s fingers anxiously curl over the wooden desk top as you let out a soft sigh, containing a noise you did not want to be heard by anyone else.

“There’s something else,” You blurted, “You want me for something else.”

It’s radio silent for a second. Robert’s fingers shift, and you heavily sigh.

“Robert–”

“I want you for your intelligence,” Robert says as a confession. His hands spread against the desk. As much as you try to control yourself, you can’t. Your hands uncurl from your grasp and cover his, grasping them.

“I also wanted you.”

With that, Robert asked to kiss you, and you didn’t even say yes as you jumped from your chair and crashed your lips into his. Nearly falling back, he grabbed you and dragged you to the ground, refusing to let go of your body and lips. It’s desperate and messy, evident that the two of you missed each other's presence. Robert asks to remove your clothes, and you let him do so. Once removing your panties and stockings, he sticks his hard dick into you and fucks you like there is no tomorrow. He covers your mouth as you cry tears of happiness and sadness, sobbing his name. Once he finishes inside of you, you hug him and sob your eyes out. Roberts holds you and says he won’t let go.

Both of you know you have a lot of shit to work through. He had Jean and you had George. Robert knows he’s fucked up, but he still loves you,a nd as much as you don’t want to admit it, you love him as much as he loves you. The whole reason you turned down George was because you still loved Robert. It wasn’t easy for you to forget , and with Robert, he clearly didn’t.

He promised to fix things if you came to Los Alamos with him.

And you did.

You managed to graduate from Berkeley a year early. Groves said that he would write to your family that you were involved in a top secret Government project, promising that he would try to cover your back as much as possible. Once you were out of this project your family would question you, but it wasn’t important. After all, Robert was right; you were small things in the grand scheme of it all.

Los Alamos is hot, cold, and isolating. You are severely depressed, but you are able to manage that with your work and Robert. The work on the bomb is no easy task; it’s full of pressure, arguments, and disagreements. You feel intimidated, surrounded by much older men, whom you feel have more power than you do, despite knowing that you are just as capable as they are. With this stress, Robert is your reliever. Every night, the two of you switch, finding a way to comfort one another in these depressing times.

Now, you live full time with Robert. Nothing is perfect, but the two of you talk and make things work in the best way possible.

You tell him about George and how you turned down his proposal. Robert coldly laughs, saying that you deserved a good man, and that you should have accepted. You said you couldn't because you loved him,a dn as much as Robert thinks you are lying, he loves the honesty that comes from you. It proves to him that when he fucked you, that you were always going to be his. He tells you that he’s cut things off with Jean, promising on his knees that he won’t ever respond to her calls ever again. You force him to promise you or else you’ll leave him. Robert looks like he’s going to sob when you said that, and he repeatedly insists that he will never do such a thing to you ever again.

You snap back to reality when they make an announcement that they will test the bomb in three minutes. The men around you anxiously chatter as they prepare for an explosion. You put on your sunglasses and look around you. You catch Edward Teller, basking in his sun chair with a face smothered in sunscreen and sunglasses. He looks down at you, and you look away into the dark night, anticipating the explosion. Your heart skips a beat, and to pass the time, you sink back into your racing thoughts.

In Between this drama, time passes in Los Alamos. Between the bomb being congested and your relationship with Robert being rebuilt, you fall sick. You’re nauseous, vomiting in the morning and sometimes the day, your period stops, constipation, backaches, you feel like you’re dying. You’re able to hide this from everyone but Robert, who assumes what he thinks it is. One trip to the infirmary confirms that you’re two months pregnant, bordering three.

Initially, you're shocked, but thinking back to the classroom, it all makes sense.

You’re ecstatic, despite being extremely sick. You take time off from your job, and Robert makes sure to tell everyone that you have come down. I'll have a bug and will return within a couple of months. The only people who know about the pregnancy are you, Robert, and the doctor. Robert makes sure to keep the mater private.

Like you, Robert is thrilled at the concept of you having a child. You’re rather young and nervous, but Robert promises to take care of you and your child. No longer can you do things on your own without Robert swooping in; whether that be cooking, cleaning, or even reaching for medicine.

The two of you lay in bed with your feet entangled. Robert caresses your stomach as he has done before, softly going over the small bump forming in your stomach.

“I thought I had been putting on weight,” You bluntly admitted, rolling your shoulders back.

“And even if you were, I would love you the same as I loved you before,” Robert plants a kiss into your hair, gently patting your stomach, “You look as beautiful as ever, love. Even with our child, you’re still so tiny. You’re just as I remembered you-”, His hands grab yours as he interlocks your digits, “-in that classroom at Berkeley. You shook your leg and your skirt rode up. As you bit your lip, I looked, and I fell. I feel hard, y/n. I love you.”

You smile to yourself and close your eyes, squeezing his hand.

“I love you too, Robert.”

“59 seconds until the drop!” A voice booms over the loudspeaker. Anxiety, nerves, and excitement fills the crowd of Sciences, including yourself. You put a hand on your stomach, feeling the flatness. Sometimes, you can still feel that bump. It’s been a long time, but she’s still there, haunting you.

You lose the baby at seven months, and remember there being so much blood and tears. Every night after losing the child, you cried yourself to sleep and apologized to Robert. Robert held you and comforted you at that time. He kissed you and held you close, saying that all was well as long as you were him.

You violently sobbed, thinking back to your days of reading Greek myths at his rental house on Shasta. Just as Hades had given Persephone the seeds for her to say, Robert had impregnated to you and brought you to his desert exile. And like Persephone, you stayed.

Just as tears were beginning to form in your eyes, a light dried the tears right out of your eyes.

At 5:29:45 AM local time, the stillness was shattered by an imperceptible click, triggering the activation sequence of the Trinity bomb.

A brilliant, searing light erupted on the horizon with a radiance unparalleled by any natural phenomenon. The desert floor was instantaneously transformed into a blinding white sea of light, casting stark shadows of the nearby objects. The intensity of the light seemed to defy the boundaries of the human eye, as if a new sun had temporarily usurped the heavens.

A seething ball of fire engulfed the desert in those milliseconds, swelling with ferocious energy. A towering column of smoke and dust spiraled upward, its outline illuminated by the incandescent glow. The ball of fire and the mushroom-shaped cloud of debris swelled and merged into a surreal symphony of colors – brilliant whites, fiery oranges, and deep reds – like a celestial painter's brush strokes across the sky.

Trinity’s detonation unleashed a symphony of destruction that resonated not just across the desert but through history itself. The ground quaked with a seismic force, as though the Earth itself trembled at the unimaginable power harnessed by humanity's newfound knowledge. A resounding shockwave rippled through the air, shattering windows miles away and rattling the bones of those who stood witness.

The sound that followed was a peculiar and haunting one – a low, rumbling roar that bore no resemblance to the traditional thunder or even the roar of an aircraft engine. It was as if the very air had been torn apart and reconstituted into a sound that could only be described as the collective gasp of nature itself, a primordial cry at witnessing its own mastery being tested and defied.

The visual and auditory onslaught seemed to defy the boundaries of perception, leaving spectators both in awe and in terror. The Trinity test had successfully harnessed the fundamental forces of the universe and turned them into a weapon of unimaginable devastation. In the wake of that blinding light and resounding sound, a sense of profound unease settled upon those who bore witness – an understanding that the world had irrevocably changed, and humanity had ventured into a new and uncertain frontier, where the implications of our newfound power were as profound as they were perilous.

The cheers are loud and violent. People are thrilled that those two years of hard work have paid off. They're dancing, drinking, celebrating, and you feel happy, even partaking in such matters.

When the bomb is dropped on Hiroshima, the celebrations truly ensue. The excitement from the test early explodes with raw joy. Everyone knows that the ear is coming to an end as they drink, sing, dance, cheer, and cry. Emotions flood as people celebrate, and you partake in them for a while. As you do, you look for Robert but he’s nowhere to be found. You search within the crowd but you can't identify his pork pie hat or pipe.

Fleeing from the celebrations, you flee to Roberts office. His secretary isn’t there, so you make this way to your office. You find him standing by the window, simply looking at the crowd. As they move, he stands perfectly still. His hat is thrown on the ground and his pipe is thrown on his desk.

“Robert?” You sing-song his name, quietly walking over, “Oppie?”

There’s no response. He’s not acting happy, nor does he look at it. He looks devastated.

His eyes are watery, and you can immediately feel the guilt on his shoulders.

There’s no need for words as you walk over and crash into Robert. His arms wrap around you and with that, he quietly cries into your shoulder, sinking with you into the carpeted ground.

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