#and a shitty one too. everyone has the same id numbers n shit
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thetrinitytest · 5 months ago
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doing my part 🫡 🫡
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xfandomwritingsx · 4 years ago
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The Long Road - Jesse Pinkman - Part Two
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-gif source unknown-
Description: Set after El Camino. You can’t handle never seeing Jesse again so you go after him.
Warnings/Labels:  Fluff. Warm, soft Jesse Pinkman fluff.
Approx. Word Count: 1,700
A/N: I need more Jesse in my life. I just need it, okay?
Part One
-
Your phone rings early the next morning, before the sun has even had proper time to get set in the sky. The caller ID reads a number that you know isn’t his. You’d done your research on him before approaching. You had his cell number. This isn’t it.
“Hello?” you answer cautiously. There’s a long silence on the other end.
“Is this… Ashley Adams?” It’s Jesse’s voice for sure and you smile at him trying to recall the name you’d given.
“Aarons,” you correct him. “Ashley Aarons.”
“Right.” Another short pause. “This is Paul Driscoll. Your uhh, neighbor, I guess.” You’re not sure whether you want to laugh or cry at the classic sound of his voice. It fills you with a warmth that has been absent in you for far too long.
“Are you on a secure line?” Not the most tactful way to phrase the question, but your patience is running low and frankly, for what you both paid to get here, it shouldn’t matter if it was a secure line or not.
“Payphone,” he confirms. “About three miles outside of town by a gas station. You?”
“Burner phone.” You sit down on your cheap hotel bed and finally feel yourself relax.
“What the fuck is going on?” he snaps. “What the fuck are you doing here? Are you okay?” You suspect if the payphone wasn’t bolted to the ground, he’d probably be pacing like mad right now. You can just picture him spinning in circles in the booth, free hand swinging around wildly. Honestly, you’re having a hard time not laughing in sheer relief. It’s been years you’ve been trying to get to him and you’re finally hearing him. You’ve seen him. You’re talking to him. “I didn’t sleep last night! I’m supposed to be at work in thirty minutes and I’m going out of my mind!” It’s such a foreign thing to hear Jesse mention work. It just reminds you that he has a life now. A real one. “Are you fucking okay or not?”
“Calm down,” you say gently. “I’m alright, I promise.” It’s not even him and his new life he’s worried about unraveling right now. His only concern is you and that makes you feel like you’re floating. You’ve never been more alright than you are right now.
“And what the hell kind of name is Ashley Aarons?” The laugh bubbles out. Out of all the questions he has tumbling through his head, that’s one of his firsts?
“I didn’t pick it!” you defend, stopping yourself from flopping back on the bed like a teenage girl. “I pissed off the vacuum guy, alright?” You expect a chuckle or maybe a scoff, anything. Instead he goes silent for a moment.
“You went to the vacuum guy?”
“Well, yeah. I couldn’t find you unless I was clean.” You state is like it’s obvious because to you it is, but Jesse hadn’t fully realized what you being here meant or what it took to get you here. The air shifts around you.
“Why did you need to find me?” The question hits you hard and sharp. What the hell kind of answer is there to that question?
“Jesse, I…” Words fail you, but he waits on the other end. “I just had to see you.” The silence on the other end is painful. Did you make a mistake? “Can I… Can I see you?” Your words tremble and there’s a desperation in them. You’ve never been one to beg, but after everything you’d gone through to get to him, to may actually kill you if he said no.
“Meet me at my place in twenty minutes,” he finally says, easing the squeeze around your chest for the moment at least.
“What about work?” He scoffs on the other end.
“I got vacation time. They’ll fucking live.”
---
Standing at his front door the second time is somehow even more daunting than the first. His door swings open much faster and he’s pulling you into his living room before you even have a chance to say hello. He closes the door and puts his eye up to the peephole, presumably checking for anyone following you.
“Does anyone know you’re here?” he asks when he looks back to you.
“No,” you assure him. “Kind of the whole point of the vacuum asshole, but honestly I lost contact with everyone over a year ago anyways.”
“How did you find me?” His bafflement is shown in a scrunched expression and you think back, trying to come up with a simple, easy answer.
“By not sleeping for two years?” is the best you can do. His face evens out and he motions to the couch next to you.
“Have a seat,” he offers. “I can go make us some coffee.”
“You drink coffee now?” He cracks a smile at you.
“Yeah well, I learned drinking beer this early is frowned upon by upstanding people so coffee it is.” You both chuckle and you nod to him, accepting his offer. You carefully move around to the front of the couch as he walked towards what you assume to be the kitchen. “You still take it the same way?”
“Mmhmm,” you hum, surprised and humbled that he remembers how you like your coffee.
Jesse’s home is something you hadn’t expected. It’s large, but modest and made to look and feel like a log cabin. His furniture is covered in a soft brown leather placed around a glass coffee table in front of a working fireplace that fills the room with a warm glow. You’re able to shake the cold out of your bones and shed your thick coat, draping it over the armrest next to you.
If his house is anything to judge by, Jesse has done damn good for himself. While that makes you feel happy and proud even, there’s a small part of you that fills with fear. Good house, a job, friends… what if he doesn’t want you in his life anymore? What if all you do is ruin what he has?
Jesse interrupts your thoughts, coming back into the room and hands you a white mug with Alaskan mountains painted on the side. You smile up at him and gently blow into the mug as he sits down next to you and drinks from his own cup. He shifts to bring his leg up onto the couch and face you, throwing one of his arms over the back of the couch.
“Never thought I’d see you in a white cable knit sweater,” you tease, reaching over to pluck at the sleeve of his attire. He looks down at it and laughs.
“Yeah, I’m wearing all kinda goofy shit now.”  He leans in and lowers his voice just a little. “You should see me in the hat with the fucking earmuffs.” You can’t help but laugh. You have no doubt that he owns such a hat nowadays and the idea of him wearing it is just so wholesome and humorous.
“You look good,” you tell him when the chuckling dies down. He doesn’t say much, but makes a noncommittal noise. Your hand reaches out to him without thinking, your thumb brushing the skin above his eye where a faint scar dips into his eyebrow. Your fingers trace down to the more prominent scar on his cheek and you almost melt into his couch when he leans his face into the palm of your hand and closes his eyes.
“Story goes I used to box in college,” he shares. “The guys joke I must not have been very good if I couldn’t protect my face.” He turns his face and presses his lips to the heel of your palm.
“You would make a shitty boxer,” you agree lightheartedly, pulling a smile to his face. He leans away from you and steals the mug out of your hands, reaching to place both cups on the coffee table before coming back to you, sitting just a little bit closer.
“So you’re telling me,” he starts in a more serious tone. “That you took two years, left everything, and came all the way out here to bumfuck Alaska to find me?” The disbelief, the reluctance to accept there’s not some hidden meaning that he’s missing is just so innocent that all you can do is nod. “Why?”
“Jesse,” you sigh. The sound of his name on your tongue has him leaning towards you, his hand reaching up to cup the back of your neck and pull your forehead to his. “Do you really have to ask?” you whisper. Your own hands running up the front of his sweater, looking for something to hold onto.
Your name is a soft murmur from his lips before he’s tilting his head and your eyes are fluttering shut. You both lean into the kiss, leveraging yourselves on your hips and legs to lift up closer to one another. It’s a hard, needy kiss with your fingers twisting into the knitted fabric on his chest and both his hands lifting to hold your face carefully as though you might disappear if he held on too tightly.
Heart so full that your chest feels heavy and constricted, you open your mouth beneath his for air. While he allows you to break for just that moment, he comes back with a heated passion that you’re all too happy to return. His arms slip down around your waist, pulling you across the small bit of couch left remaining between you and nearly onto his lap.
When you finally pull away from each other, he looks up at you with something you haven’t seen from him in years. Hope.
“You have a place yet?” he asks, breathing heavily and you can tell by the way his eyes keep darting to your lips that he’s having a hard time focusing. You shake your head.
“Not yet.”
“Good. You can stay here.” His fingers at your back graze your skin where your shirt shifted up and a shiver goes through your spine. He wants you. All your worrying was for nothing.
“Won’t your friends ask questions?” He shrugs.
“Probably.” A hand grips behind your thigh, tugging. You follow his pull and let him lift that thigh over his hips so that you’re straddling him as he leans onto the couch back. “Just gotta get our stories straight.” A cocky smile sits on his lips that you hadn’t realized you missed so badly. “Means we should get reacquainted, Ms. Adams.” He leans up to kiss you again, but you pull away.
“Aarons,” you correct him again. He shakes his head at you and rolls his eyes.
“Whatever,” he says. “C’mere.”
You can worry about names later.
~~~
That’s it! Just imagine Jesse living a happy, criminal free life in Alaska. It gives me the warm fuzzies everywhere. Anyways... I hope you enjoyed! Like, comment, reblog to let me know!
Feeling super sweet and generous? Buy me a coffee! https://ko-fi.com/writerashley
Keep up with my progress on Instagram! https://www.instagram.com/thatfandomwriter/
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thesleepysphinx · 4 years ago
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chp. 2: It’s science fiction
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A/N: Thank you to everyone that has ready chapter 1! I didn’t expect chapter 2 to take so long to get out, but it’s my last semester and it’s been kicking my ass! The chapter is sadly short, but I’m gonna try to get chapter 3 out as fast as possible! Let me know what you think!
Previous • Masterlist • Next
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Your hike up from the dorms to your first class isn’t particularly your favorite thing, but the weather is definitely better than you’re used to. Move-in day must have been uncharacteristically hot, because today you’re able to wear a pair of jeans just fine, though you still opt for a tank top. The walk is about 10 minutes to the historical building. You marvel at it, admiring the architecture and the fine details within. After a few moments to observe, you finish making your way up the steps to the first floor of the building. 
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(Think of a building like this)
Lucky for you, your class is only on the second floor rather than the third. You observe the bulletin boards as you walk towards the staircase at the end of the building, noticing advertisements for clubs, fraternities, and sororities are already up. You take note to take a look at them after class. As you come to the classroom, the door is already propped open, the professor standing at the chalkboard as she writes down some information. You avoid the gazes of your classmates as you make your way to an empty seat. Only about half the classroom is filled up, so you choose a seat with other empty seats on either side. It looks like the class can fit about 30 students at a time, a much smaller number than the typical university class. You huff out a breath and start gathering your supplies, glancing at your schedule just to double check that you’re in the right place.
You mumble to yourself as you read over the dates, times, and class codes. “Okay, yeah, room 201 for... damn it...” Turns out, the printed schedule didn’t include the actual name of the class. All you’re given to work with is three numbers that signify the class, but not what it’s about. Whatever, I’ll figure it out once the professor starts.
“It’s science fiction, dumbass.”
With all of your rifling through your stuff, you hadn’t noticed that the seat to the right of you was now occupied. By Bakugo. You glare at him as you return your schedule to its original spot in your bag. “I didn’t ask, asshole.”
You can see his jaw clench at your rebuttal. His voice becomes more grating as he says, “Then don’t mumble to yourself like a damn idiot.” With that last comment, he turns his attention solely to his school materials. You notice that he has quite the assortment of organizational supplies, such as a pristine pack of highlighters, small sticky notes, and a categorized notebook. We’re probably just gonna go over the syllabus, but he looks so prepared...
You’re drawn out of your thoughts as the professor begins to speak. You gather that her name is Professor King and that she will most likely be an average professor. Not hard, but not a super easy A. A manageable class.
As Prof. King finishes going over the syllabus and the schedule for the semester, she announces, “Let’s just do some quick introductions so we know each other’s names. Give us your name, grade, and major. We’ll just go row by row...”
Slowly, the students all cycle through, providing the information asked of them. Eventually, the spotlight lands on Bakugo. He keeps his hands in his jacket pockets, leaned back in his chair as he introduces himself. “Name’s Katsuki Bakugo, I’m a third year chemical engineering major.” After his last word, he turns his head ever so slightly in your direction, waiting expectedly for your introduction.
You ignore his crimson gaze as you start speaking in a chipper tone that contrasts Bakugo’s, “Hi, I’m Y/N, I’m a junior, and I’m an English major!” The introductions immediately move on to the person to your left, but Bakugo’s gaze stays on you.
Under his breath in a volume only you can hear, he says, “Tch. Lame.”
You bite your tongue for now, waiting for the end of class to confront him. The end of class could not come sooner...
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You gather up your class supplies at the same speed as Bakugo, making sure that no matter what you’ll be able to confront him without causing too much of a scene. You stand and drape your backpack over your shoulders, but find that Bakugo hasn’t moved to stand yet. He’s probably waiting for me to leave... Well, fine! I’ll leave! You make your way past the threshold of the door and round the corner of the wall and plant your back to it. The perfect plan.
In a matter of seconds your plan falls into place as Bakugo rounds the corner out the door and you start walking next to him. You don’t even give him the chance to react to your presence before questioning, “So what part was lame?”
“Leave me the hell alone.” He speeds up his walking as he gets to the stairs.
You match his pace as you race down the stairs. “Well you obviously can’t leave me alone, so no. If you think you’re so much better than me, then at least tell me why, asshole.”
As you both reach the bottom of the stairs, he turns immediately to face you. It is now that you realize just how tall he is, as he stares down at you with the usual fire in his eyes and the usual scowl on his face. “Why don’t you figure it out yourself and leave me the hell alone, extra?” As quickly as he had turned towards you, he turns away and continues his walk, this time towards the exit of the building. He shoves one of the double doors open as if it were a feather, completely unperturbed by the obstacle. You slip through before the door closes, matching his pace once again as you walk next to him.
“Since you’re not gonna tell me why, I’ll just follow you until you do! I’ve got alllll day!” You hope he doesn’t call your bluff at the end there.
“Tch. Liar.”
Well, that hope didn’t last long.
“Just leave me alone, I know you have another class in two hours. Go bother someone else.”
He turns at the end of the path from the English building towards the plaza. You glance at your phone for the time.
11:30
It is now that you realize you had neglected to get breakfast before your morning class, as your stomach rumbles.
You keep walking besides Bakugo, who keeps changing his pace to annoy you. It works, but you don’t show it. You’re here to annoy him until he gives in. You never reply to his last comment, deciding instead to save your breath until you came up with something more clever. Despite the ridiculous rate of pace changing and the deafening silence between you two, you both walk up to the plaza that hosts the campus café. Your stomach rumbles once more at the thought of food. Bakugo makes no hesitation to walk up towards the doors to enter.
“Lucky you, mister egotistical, I can’t annoy you while my face is full,” you say as you walk in behind him. He scans his student ID at the front as you finish your sentence.
As you’re about to scan your own ID, he responds, “Trust me, you’re just as annoying when you don’t speak.”
Bakugo immediately makes a beeline for one of the buffet stations where chefs were serving up plates and bowls. You quickly follow after him, insistent on your so-called “annoying” presence.
Lunch has just started being served so you’re ahead of the lunch rush, no line in sight. You glance at the menus at each station, forgetting for a moment about Bakugo. I can find him after I get my food...
As your eyes wander, they finally land on the word “Ramen” and your feet start to carry you towards it. As you approach the ramen station, you see Bakugo had the same idea as you. You walk up with your back completely straight, crossing your arms as you come to stand next to him as he awaits his ramen bowl.
“Stop fucking following me.”
You chuckle a bit at his reaction. “For the record, I’m not following you. I just wanted ramen. Is that a crime?”
He grumbles in annoyance as he takes a bowl of ramen as it’s placed on the shelf. Another bowl follows soon after, which you grab before once again following the gremlin. He stops short of a table as he grabs a spoon and a disposable set of chopsticks. You do the same, reaching across him a little to grab your own utensils.
“Stay in your own damn space, dumbass!” he yells out at you. He grabs one last thing before walking away, a small bottle of chili powder.
You quicken your step to come next to him again as he makes his way to a table. “If you didn’t want me in your space, then why’d you sit next to me? Why are you hell-bent on making yourself pissed off?”
He takes a seat at a corner table as he sets his food down. “I’m done talking to you, idiot.”
“Well that’s just fine! I’ll do the talking for us!” You set your food down as you sit across from him and cross your arms over your chest. “I thought you liked pissing people off, so why don’t you tell me what’s so lame?”
He huffs in annoyance, refusing to answer as he goes to reach for his chili powder. In a swift movement, you snatch it from him. He slams his fist down on the table in response. “What the hell, shithead?”
“You’ll get this if you tell me!” You were really pushing it at this point.
Bakugo snarls and slams his fist again as he yells, “You wanna know what’s lame? Who the fuck decides to be an English major? Are you brain dead or some shit? Don’t know how to do anything but read shitty books no one cares about?”
You push your chair back as you stand, throw the chili powder towards him, and pick your food back up. “Wow... You’re that far up your own ass? Get fucked, Bakugo.” You turn away immediately and make your way to the other side of the commons, far out of Bakugo’s sight. You’d dealt with your own doubts in yourself enough, the last thing you needed was some shitty comments from the newest asshole in your life.
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dumbassscout · 4 years ago
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i see a lot of 13 yr olds on tumblr these days, so id like to share some advice i wish i had known using tumblr at age 13.
this is also probably not an original idea from me lol, someone has got to have done this before. i would usually put this under a cut but ive decided not to for now
be aware that this site is like NOTORIOUSLY harmful. you may think you’re above it or too mature for it to hurt you, but trust me, you aren’t. since you will probably not be stopped by that warning, maybe take some precautions/keep some stuff in mind to stay safe.
i had tumblr savior for my first experiences with the site. im pretty sure it still works and it’s regularly updated, so take a look into that. it blocks posts with certain keywords from being seen on your radar, and can also push/allow posts with other keywords to always be shown. i would advise getting it or a similar extension to custom block triggering/harmful content.
don’t put other/more popular users in your fandom/community on a pedestal. they’re people behind a blog, just like you are. don’t feel intimidated by the people in your own community, they are just people the same way you are a person. they can mess up at times, and so can you.
making friends is a great thing on this site, but keep an eye on new online friends’ behaviors. it is exciting to meet new people, but you want to be aware of toxic friends. same goes for your mutuals. overall, keep people on this site at an arm’s length until you’ve gotten to know them enough personally to know that they’re genuine people. as you get older you can relax on this, but as a young teen it’s better to be hyperaware than to be blissfully ignorant as you get hurt.
onto more broad things, your theme doesn’t have to be perfect. you dont have to make a custom html/edited html website theme for your blog, you can leave it as tumblr default. if you enjoy organizing that, then by all means go ahead! but don’t feel like it is necessary for your blog, most of the time you will get a new theme set up and check on it on a month and find that it actually looks terrible to you. if you’d rather just have it as a basic/default site, then that is perfectly normal.
your blog’s theme/topic is your choice, and can be uniquely you. some people have many blogs for many things, just a few, or just one with everything. it is up to you how you want to do it! the themes you choose, topics, are up to you. fads and trends are cool but finding what works for you personally is way more fun. your blog is supposed to be fun. you are supposed to enjoy using tumblr. don’t compromise that for a trend. make your blog(s) however you want, however it pleases you. it can feel pressuring to have a perfect blog, but it’s better to just make your appearance the way it would make you happy.
also, tag systems are awesome! but they are not necessary unless you’re tagging trigger warnings. always tag those! but i know a lot of people have personal tagging systems to organize their blog, which is totally cool! but again, personal tag systems are not necessary, and if they feel unnecessary to you, don’t use them. but again, tag triggering content, especially if you are asked to.
archiving/deleting/creating new blogs is a whole other process. some people like to start with a clean slate every time they switch to a new fandom, and let their old user be archived or deleted. this is perfectly respectable (and probably the right thing to do) personally, i just switch my blog over to whatever im feeling that month and people can unfollow if they no longer enjoy my blog (i dont have that big of a following on this blog). it’s really a personal decision, and if you want to restart your blog you will know when to/if you want to.
reblog art, but never “repost” it. aka dont take the image and post it on your own blog, just reblog it from the original poster. its common sense but not everyone knows? idk
if you end up having some or many followers, make sure to check yourself. appreciate your followers, respect them. they are people with blogs. just like you. don’t let a high number inflate your ego way out of proportion, it’s easy to fall into that sense of power.
respect people’s pronouns. even if you for some reason have a disagreement with them, or you don’t understand why/how their identity works, just use the correct pronouns that they ask you to. it costs you zero dollars and zero cents, and is incredibly respectful
as a young teen, don’t get involved/let yourself get buried in tumblr-wide discourse. examples of this include the bi vs pan debate, flag discourse etc. most ppl who i know who were attentive to things similar to that at a young age ended up being affected negatively by it. pay some attention to what pertains to you and also pay attention to what you can identify as right or wrong, but don’t let people’s opinions on your dash influence you in times of discourse. go and look at both sides of those kinds of debates if you’re interested, and form an opinion from there.
speaking of which, sometimes people will just post their takes on literally anything and youll come across it. take everything with a grain of salt unless there is links to proof (if applicable, not always needed). sometimes bad takes just havent had someone to reblog and disprove yet.
speaking of discourse, there is always discourse on this site in every fandom, every community. form your own opinions always, but keep your moral compass in mind. don’t compromise your morals and sense of right and wrong to enjoy certain fan-media. if something seems off, it probably is.
people make mistakes, and if someone did something kind of shitty/had a terrible take/belief (not irredemably shitty, those ppl do not need ur attention) and they genuinely apologize for the shit they did and learn from it, move on. leave some shit in the past, holding grudges isnt good for your mental health and people change. but again, always take things with a grain of salt.
you dont need a high follower count to get traction on your posts. it might help, but you can have a low follower count with high interaction or a high follower count with little to know interaction. the best advice i have is to tag what it is relevant to, whether it’s a fandom, aesthetic, etc and people who regularly check those tags will find it.
if you ever get anon hate for some reason, just delete it from ur inbox n move on. ppl who send anon hate want to see you post it and respond to it. if they said some really really MEAN shit though, it may be best to talk to a friend about it for comfort, or take a break from tumblr for a hot min. most importantly, report it, close your ask box/change it to no anonymous asks.
if at some point you choose to voice your opinion about a highly debated topic at the time, be aware that people who disagree might attack you for it. be aware, and be safe about it.
a lot of people swear by xkit. i have never used it in my life, but from the looks of it, it makes using tumblr so much more bearable. it breaks sometimes with tumblr updates, but apparently it’s worth it. again, look into it, but it’s not necessary to use the site.
do niche shit. start sideblogs without a plan in mind. make aus, make art, make writing, or make nothing at all. reblog the things you love wherever you want them to be reblogged. comment on people’s creations if you love them, they probably would love to hear how much you enjoyed it. appreciate how wonderful the better part of this site is, enjoy the free access to view and appreciate others’ creations and ideas.
i would put a lot more on here, but i feel like 20 is probably too much already. if anyone has anything to add, definitely rb with ur addition
overall, do the things you love on here, keep yourself safe, and be respectful of others.
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prettyyoungtragedy · 6 years ago
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Written in the Stars (2)
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Characters: Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x reader
Summary: You’re the type of woman who is headstrong and fiercely independent. Heiress to a fortune and one of the most brilliant minds of the 21st century. Until you’re forced into witness protection. Your “Protection” turns out to be 220 pounds of dreamy, sassy, delightful Bucky Barnes. Whatever could go wrong?
Warnings: Swearing, if that's a warning these days. 
A/N: Oh man, all the love for chapter one made me scream! I hope you like part 2, here’s Bucky being bossy, an annoyed reader and a little sassy humor for everyone! if ya wanna be kind and throw me a pretty comment and a reblog? I’ll love you forever.
This was generously Beta’d by my beta @suz-123 without whom I will never have any good ideas! thank you buddy!
Tags: Hit me up in my ASK box!
Links are being an asshole so you can find other chapters of this fic in my WIP masterlist in my bio!
“Think you can handle this?” Sam asked as he handed Bucky one of his handguns, watching his friend strap on his bulletproof vest. Bucky didn’t need it but it was better to be safe than sorry in this case, especially when Hydra was involved they probably had ways of bringing the Winter Soldier down.
“Yes, what do I look like? An amateur?” Bucky responded rolling his eyes at Sam’s incredulous question, taking the gun from his hand and holstering it to his hip.
“You know that’s not what I mean.” Sam shoved Bucky’s shoulder slightly.
“I know, I’ll fine. It’ll be fine,” He gives Sam a reassuring smile. The pair were an odd couple but had become the support the other needed in hard times. It was weird sharing this unbreakable bond of friendship because of Steve, but it was a comfort to both of them knowing each had the others back. When they weren’t bickering incessantly with each other Sam and Bucky were a formidable force.
“What time is the meeting set for?” Sam gives Bucky the black box with the comms in them and waited as he placed it in his ear.
“Steve and I are meeting at the new apartment in an hour, I have to escort her there.”
“And she’s fine with moving apartments?”
“What do you think?” Bucky’s tone dripping with sarcasm,
Sam laughed and placed a hand on his friend's shoulder, gripping it lightly. “That woman is going to eat you alive buddy,”
“Nah, women love me, it’ll be a walk in the park.”
Sam nods, “Well, good luck out there, man. This might not be President Ellis but she sure as shit is more important to us, right now.”
“Don’t need luck,” Bucky grinned at him as the two of them walked out of the weapons vault, he strutted a few feet in front of Sam before turning around to face him, “I am the fucking Winter Soldier.” He spreads his arms cockily as if he were showing off his grandeur.
This response makes Sam chortle with laughter, and shake his head at Bucky’s arrogance. He wasn’t wrong though, Bucky Barnes was part The Winter Soldier and part Avenger, he was a fucking machine.
~~~
It was barely seven in the morning when you hear the door to the safe house open, the rather shitty safe house that Nick Fury and his squad of morons had forced you to live in the past four days.
The soft creak of the wooden floors as their footfalls hit the hardwood. The alarm bells in your head going off and, immediately, you shot up out of the double bed and to your feet, ready to fight whoever was walking towards the bedroom door, not that you were any kind of fighter but if worst comes to worst, you’d be ready to get scrappy about it.
To say you were a little on edge because of the briefing yesterday wouldn’t be a lie. You were putting on this sarcastic brave face, but in fact, you had spent the entire night tossing and turning too afraid that if you close your eyes you wouldn't wake up the next morning.
So, when the bedroom door was flung open, it was only natural in your tired, sleep deprived state that you let out a scream of terror, only to come face to face with James Buchanan Barnes.
“Well good morning to you, too.” He said amusement in his eyes as he took in your cowering figure which was now in a pathetic defensive stance.
“What the fucking fuck?!” You exclaimed at him, straightening up, trying to pick up the modicum of dignity you had left after that scream.
“I was testing you.” He shrugged.
“What the fuck kind of test was that?!”
“To see how quick your reflexes are in a panicked situation.”
You stared open mouthed at him for a moment, a million insults hurling through your mind which you wanted to shout at him, but, instead, you snap your mouth shut and glower at him. Folding your arms over your chest, you realized you were barely clad in a t-shirt and scanty shorts that had been given to you by some shield task force member, as you hadn’t been allowed to your apartment yet to get any of your clothes.
“Get dressed, we’re moving you to a secure location today.” He ordered completely ignoring the fact that you were giving him a death stare.
“Wait, what, when do I get to go home?” You rebutted, but Bucky doesn’t listen to you. He whirled around and marched out the bedroom shutting the door in your face. Once again, you are left stunned at just how rude this asshole was, you stared at the door open-mouthed and blinked rapidly, never in your life had you ever been ordered around and it was infuriating you.
You took a slow deep breath and clenched your fists at your side,
“Deep breaths,” You muttered to yourself, “You can’t kill him, he’s the reason you’re going to live through this shit show.”
One. Two. Three.
You exhaled deeply and opened your eyes, “You can kill him after.”
This thought seemed to make you gleeful, and suddenly you had an idea. If the Winter Soldier was going to be your bodyguard and make your life hard, you were going pull the exact same shit with him. Then and there you decided to be the most painful version of yourself just to see how far you could push your limits with him before he quit.
Grinning to yourself at your plan you made your way to the bathroom to get dressed.
~~~
Twenty minutes later, you stood in front of your protection detail. The Winter Soldier stands a few feet closer to you than the rest of them, he hands you a little ID with your picture printed on it, a watch that has a small sleek black screen on it and what looked like a phone.
“ID to get you in and out of the tower without hassle,” He pointed to it, “The watch is programmed with a tracking device and is connected to Stark servers as well as FRIDAY the Avengers personal AI, there’s a heart monitor, for proof of life and should your heartbeat drop or become erratic in any way it will alert your protection detail. Anything you need, touch your finger to the screen and it will assist you, like a personal assistant. Should I not be with you, there is a panic button and it will alert us of your danger.”
“Proof of life, like I’m a hostage. How fun.” You retorted. You waited as he slid the watch onto your wrist, and the screen flashed to life.
“Good morning, Sergeant Barnes.” A female voice with an Irish lilt rang through the receiver of the watch startling you, slightly.
“Hi FRIDAY, configure the watch. It is on the subject, lock in the location and secure Astro mode.”
“Astro mode?” You piped up looking at Bucky.
“Highest security level.” He responded not looking at you, his gaze is fixed on the watch as he waited for it to configure.
“Configuration complete.” FRIDAY states and Bucky nodded.
Then he pointed to the sleek black phone like object in your hand, “Stark tech, no incoming call or text can get through without going through the security checks at the Avengers tower. All your contacts have been programmed in there and no one can trace the IP or caller ID on your phone. The only people with this number is myself, Steve Rogers and Director Fury, for safety reasons, of course, no one but me will call you.”
“Wait, why do I have to give up my phone? That is stupid.” You began to protest but the look Bucky gives you shuts you up instantly. Clearly, he isn’t in the mood for your shit, well, at least not yet.
He ignores your little outburst and then almost robotically turned away from you towards the three men that stood behind him, patiently waiting for him to finish giving you instructions.
“These three are handpicked by me for this assignment, each one of them has gone through stringent tests and background searches before being assigned to protect you. Should I not be around, the highest ranking officer will step in and take over protection detail.”
“Why wouldn’t you be around, I thought you were supposed to hover like an annoying shadow?” You interjected, sarcastically.
Bucky gives you a deadpan look and ignores your comment again, “For safety reasons, they will only be known to you by their code names.” He pointed to the blonde on the far right, he looked like he deadlifted buildings, “Agent 27; codename Achilles,”
Then pointed to the brunette with blue eyes and a grim face, “Agent 12; code name Arcas,”
Lastly, he pointed to the tallest of them all, broad-shouldered with a hard face, he looked like he never smiled. “Agent 8; codename Dionysus.”
“What’s with the Greek codenames?” You asked, genuinely curious why all their codenames were that of Greek mythology.
Before Bucky could answer you, however, his phone rang and he quickly answered it. A curt conversation over the line indicated to you that whoever was on the other end was telling him to hurry up because he muttered something along the lines of ‘Have some fucking patience’, before cutting the call.
“Let’s move.” He nodded curtly to the rest of the agents, they immediately dispersed and headed for the exit. You waited a moment before Bucky turned towards you, his expression is stoic and hard, and you sense an immediate shift in his attitude.
It was time to get to work.
“I have three golden rules, three rules for you to follow and we will be fine in every situation.” Bucky’s voice almost steely and robotic as he spoke, “Number one, I move, you move, doesn’t matter when or where, you listen to every instruction I give you, no arguments. You stay behind me at all times, there isn’t a moment when you’re ahead of me, unless, I specifically instruct you to be so. I am your human shield, you got it?”
“Oh good, a human shield. This should be fun.” Your snide answer goes unanswered by him as he continued.
“Number two, I am not here to fuck around, I’m not a pretty boy for you to show off to your high society friends, I am not in the field of playing games and entertaining your bullshit. My number one priority is keeping you alive, and if you act like an idiot, you die and I don’t need that on  my resume.”
“You think you’re a pretty boy?” You barked out a laugh
“The prettiest,” He bit back before continuing, again, “Number three. Wherever you are, I am. You do not go anywhere without me. You have to piss? I am standing at the door. You have a check-up at the doctor? I am there. You need to blow your nose? I give you the tissue. Do you understand?”
“I mean this is a little excessive don’t you thi-”
“Do you understand.” He cuts you off in a demanding voice, your defiant eyes meet his and you glared at him.
The instructions seemed simple enough but the fact that he was going to control every aspect of your life was suddenly annoying you. He was right, everything you did he was going to have to be there for it and that didn’t sit well with you.
“I have a life you know, I can’t have you hovering around me when I go on dates and out with friends.”
“Well, in the interest of keeping you alive, you’re going to have to suck it up and deal with me hovering, sweetheart.” Bucky moved closer towards you, his steely eyes piercing into yours and as much as you want to fight his every command at that moment, the sensible side of your brain is telling you to shut up and listen to him, “Besides, you won’t be going on many dates in the coming months, believe me.”
“I mean you can try and stop me from living my life, but good luck with that,” You jeered back at him, folding your arms over your chest in defiance.
A look of shock skittered across his face for a moment before he reigns his emotions in, and that stoic expression settled over his face again. Bucky is about to say something to you but changes his mind and just shakes his head.
“Follow my every instruction when we leave,” He ordered you and you felt your nerves prickle at the demanding tone he used with you, but you remained silent, “I move, you move? Got it.”
“Yes Soldier, I got it. Relax.”
Bucky clenched his jaw at your response but chooses to ignore your sarcasm again, clearly, his resolve was resolute because you would have at least expected some kind of chirp back with all the sass you were giving him.
He turned away from you and began to make his way out of the safehouse with you following closely behind him. It’s a quick trip down the elevator and into the lobby of the building where your usual car was waiting for you. You were a little relieved that not everything had changed, you still had the same driver and the same car.
Small victories. You thought.
For a moment you forgot that you were under supervision and walked a little faster, cutting in front of Bucky in an attempt to get to the car before him. It’s an innocent mistake on your part as you neared the freedom of being in a car and not cooped up in that safe house, but that moment of freedom is suddenly wrenched away as quickly as it arrived.
Bucky hand closes around your arm halting you just seconds before your hand touches the door to the lobby entrance. Whether he intended to or not, the force with which he stopped you from exiting startled you and you gasped in shock.
“What the-” You began to say but he cuts you off.
“Stay behind me, I said I move, you move. How am I supposed to protect you if you’re in front of me?” He snapped at you letting go of your arm.
“God fucking damn it, it’s like two meters to the car!” You exclaimed.
Bucky took a deep breath and steadied his temper. He was about two seconds away from yelling at you in the middle of the lobby, but he knew he couldn't, or Steve would punch the lights out of him for embarrassing the team and being unprofessional, also not with these many witnesses around. He stepped around you and pushed open the door, the cool morning air hitting his skin as it gusted into the lobby.
His eyes scanned the area from the entrance to the car, he takes in every detail he can, the pedestrians walking past, the other guests at the hotel moving around, talking to each other walking in and out, his eyes move like a hawk across the rooftops of the building for any signs of danger then when he was satisfied he stepped aside and gestured for you to start walking again.
You rolled your eyes at him and rather caustically walked out the lobby raising your hands in surrender as you approached the car. A hint of amusement hits him as he watched you walk over to the car and throw him a belligerent look before getting in loudly calling out to him,
“Oh, look, whatever shall I do, I made it to the car by myself.” You rolled your eyes at him so hard, Bucky could have sworn he heard them roll.
He shook his head and followed you, biting back the sudden smile that wanted to appear on his face from that display you had just put on.
Man, you weren’t going to make this easy for him.
~~~
Bucky stood in the massive living room of your penthouse apartment in Manhattan, his eyes moving across the living space with quiet amazement. He had been around technological advances and Stark’s fancy lifestyle long enough to know luxury but this, this place was phenomenal.
The entire space looked like it belongs in a magazine, from the beige tones throughout the room, accented by creams and golds to the marble flooring and pillars that stood at the entrances to it.
There wasn’t a thing out of place, not a speck of dust anywhere. For a home, Bucky found it surprisingly cold, but the problem with it was there was too much open space which was like an invitation for anyone trying to get to you.
There were staff that worked for you, chefs, cleaning staff, a driver, people who picked up your clothes, bought them for you, your personal assistant, too many people and too many eyes for his liking.
He didn’t have time to screen every single person in your life, so he made an executive decision right then. The team would have to move you to a different safe house or keep you at the one you were at. It was just safer that way, and if push came to shove he would have Steve run background on everyone in your life before bringing you back here.
Of course, he knew this wasn’t going to sit well with you and a small part of him felt amused by the fact that you were probably going to throw a shitfit about it.
“Sergeant Barnes?” A voice brings his attention back to the people in front of him and he looked up at the person, it was one of the STRIKE members they’d brought here to fit in a new security system.
“What is it?” He replied,
“We are done setting up the system, would you like us to show her how it works?” The agent asked,
Bucky shook his head and took the tablet from his outstretched hand, “No, I’ll run through that with my team. Thanks.”
The agent gave him a polite nod before he walked away once more. Bucky scrolled through the system they’d installed throughout your apartment, it was one of Stark’s best security systems linked directly to FRIDAY. It was biometric so only the pre-approved list of persons could come and go without him knowing about it, but he still didn’t like this place.
Just then you walked into the living room and looked around for a moment before your eyes met his and you crossed your arms at the sight of him. Bucky smirked,
He annoyed you, good.
“So are they done wreaking havoc around my home?” You asked annoyance thick in your tone,
“Yes they are but don’t get comfortable yet, we’re going back to the safe house.”
“Wait what, why?”
“Because I have decided you won’t be staying here,”
“Excuse me?”
“You’re excused, go pack your shit up.”
Bucky watched as your face turned from shocked to completely enraged, he was full well expecting a tantrum from you and that is exactly what he received. Amusement rippled through him as he watched you defiantly fold your arms over your chest and start yelling obscenities at him.
“Absofuckinglutely not! I refused to stay one more night in that crappy apartment in Brooklyn, I would much rather Hydra kill me then stay one more night in that hell hole.” You exclaimed dramatically, “I was promised protection not uprooting my entire fucking life to go live in Brooklyn for this trial, I will not leave, I refuse. You can go to hell,”
You were breathing heavily from anger when you were finally done yelling at him, all while Bucky just looked at you with a bored expression on his face.
“Are you done?” He asked,
“Not even close,”
“Okay well, then you can continue to yell at me once we’re in the car, let’s go.”
And before you could even say anything further, Bucky gripped your arm firmly but gently and began to haul you towards your bedroom to collect your things.
~~~
It was supposed to be business as usual but it felt like the furthest thing from it. You walked into your lab on Friday morning and were met with the sight of Bucky Barnes leaning against the wall, sunglasses on, one hand in the pocket of his black jeans and the other holding his phone in the other. Dark hair falling into his eyes as he frowned down at his phone.
“Why the fuck are you here?” You sighed walking up to him not bothering to say good morning or any other pleasantries for that matter.
Bucky looked up from his phone, an amused smile on his face, he tucked his dark hair behind his ear on one side and shoved his phone into his pocket.
“Why, good morning sunshine.” He replied smoothly, amusement ripe in his voice.
“Again, why are you here?”
“I feel like you seem to be forgetting my instructions.” Bucky said pulling off his sunglasses and revealing those ridiculously blue eyes, “I said, I move, you move, but somehow this morning I show up to move you and, whaddya know? You’ve already left for the day, care to explain?”
There is clear sarcasm in his tone but also a hint of demand. He’s upset with you but isn’t showing it or trying not to at this point. You didn’t want to be escorted to work, not after the shit show last night when you had to run through the entire layout of your penthouse home with them only to have Bucky tell you that you will no longer be allowed to live there because there were too many entrance points.
Needless to say, you threw a shit fit, and stormed off, but, alas, were followed by the Winter Soldier who wordlessly put you in your car and drove you right back to the safehouse, kicking and screaming.
So this morning, you awoke earlier than usual, got dressed and slipped out of the safehouse, without any of the agents noticing. It actually amazed you how easily you got past them, clearly, they weren’t very good at their jobs.
Your whole life you had the freedom to come and go as you pleased and now that you had to hand over the reins of your life to someone else, it was frustrating you. Your every move was going to be monitored and someone beside you at all times, this wasn't the life you were used to.
“Jesus H. Christ, I just needed to feel normal for two seconds, okay. I can get myself to work safely.” You said irritably rubbing your forehead with your hand.
“No, you can’t.”
“Excuse me?”
“You can’t get yourself to work safely because you don’t know what threats there are out there. I, on the other hand, do and seeing as it’s my job to get you places safely, I would appreciate a modicum of agreement here.”
“So would I.” You retorted stubbornly, “You have me cooped up in that shitty safehouse in Brooklyn, when my gorgeous Manhattan apartment is going to waste, deserted and dying without me in it.”
You watched him sigh and clench his jaw again, becoming frustrated with your defiance. Bucky ran his fingers through his hair and looked down at you, a scowl on his handsome face, now.
“I am really trying to be patient here,” He said exasperatedly, “but you’re not making this easy, can you please just follow my instructions?”
“Fucking fuck, fine. But can I at least move out of that shitty apartment and into my home again? I hate that fucking place.”
Bucky lets out an exhale, the exasperation clear all over his face. “Fine, We will move you to a different location not your place but one better than what you’re at, also I take you to work and get you home every day, end of story.”
You rolled your eyes and brushed past him, walking into your lab. Bucky followed you, you watched as his eyes sweep the entirety of it before they settled back on you.
“I really don’t think you need to be here 24/7,” You sighed, “This whole situation is being made such a big deal of, I can take care of myself, you know.”
“This is not a game.” He replied moving to lean against one of the metal lab tables.
“I didn't say it was but I know what I have gotten myself into and I can handle it!”
“No one is saying you can’t, but, you need to take this seriously-”
“I am taking this seriously! You think I don’t know what’s at stake here?!” You were suddenly shouting at him, “I am uprooting my entire life for this god damn cause, I am going against my family for this cause, I know the seriousness of it all!”
“Then stop acting like a child and listen to me!” He shouts back and you fell silent. You weren't expecting him to yell back at you, and it kind of scared you. Bucky suddenly stood taller and his figure seemed to double in size as if he rose to his full height, and it was dominating.
“Get out, I need to work.” You muttered turning away from him so he wouldn’t see the sudden tears in your eyes. It was frustration and fear building up inside you and he wasn’t helping.
Bucky took a deep breath and reigned his anger in, he shouldn’t have yelled at you, but he doesn’t care right now. All he knows is he needs to keep you safe and if you are a belligerent asshole the entire time, it’s going to end up costing someone their life and he’d rather it was not you.  
“I will be outside,” Bucky said in a steely voice before he turned sharply and marched out of your lab once more, leaving you alone with the silence, your thoughts and the panic now rising in your chest.
~~~
The lab felt like a safe little bubble as you lost yourself in your work. Hours ticked by before you noticed the ache in your stomach reminding you it was time to eat something. You glanced up at the clock and realized it was almost one in the afternoon, you also realized that you had left Bucky to wait outside for you not bothering to check up on him.
Why the fuck do you care? You had no idea but you felt a little guilty leaving the giant brick shithouse of a human to wait outside for you.
Grumbling under your breath about how stupid it was that you needed him to hover once again, you pulled off your lab coat and tossed it onto the table before walking out of your lab.
You half expected Bucky to be waiting for you right outside the door but to your surprise, he was not. A small part of you was disappointed that he wasn’t but you shoved that aside and quickly made your way toward the elevator, maybe he was going to let up on this ridiculous notion that he had to accompany you everywhere and you could have a peaceful lunch.
Hitting the elevator button repeatedly, you waited watching the orange light flash from floor to floor as it came up to you.
“Just so you know, repeatedly hitting the button doesn’t make the elevator go any faster.” A voice suddenly said beside you, it was close to your ear.
You whirled around, a strangled scream almost erupting from your throat as you slapped your hand over your mouth to avoid screaming. You were met with Bucky’s amused blue eyes and a smirk on his face.
“Motherfucker!”
“No, that would require me to sleep with someone's mother, of which I have not done so, yet. I think,”
“Don’t fucking sneak up on me!”
“I did not, you don’t have situational awareness.” He shrugged.
“I so do.”
“Oh, really? Tell me one thing you noticed that is out of place on this floor.”
You glared at him for a moment, why was he always challenging you, then your gaze swept across the length of the area. It was the reception area of this floor, bright green plants, glass walls, metal doors and signs leading to every lab. The smell of rubbing alcohol and sterilizing agents mixed in the air, with a hint of cherries from the floor cleaner.
There are a few people about, the security guard, Wallace, who as always there, the receptionist, Jody, who was on the phone, a few people sat in the reception area. Either waiting for someone or something, you notice nothing out of the ordinary.
“There’s nothing out of place…” You say it a little hesitant because you already know he's placed something that sets him on edge.
“Look again,” He orders and you follow his command eyes moving across the room again, “See the security? He’s not wearing his badge, why? That should be a red flag already if you didn’t know him. He could be anyone.”
“I know Wallace, he’s worked here for years.” You retorted.
“Beside the point. Now, look at the receptionist, she's not focused on her surroundings, isn't watching who's coming and going, how will she know who any of her guests are? The guy in the green jacket on the couch,” Bucky gestured towards him and you looked in that direction,”He’s carrying a firearm, but I can see his police badge from here which means he's law enforcement, but why is he here?”
“Cops come here all the time for forensics, when they need help or are short staffed.”
“Right, but have you seen him before?”
You looked at the man and shook your head slowly, “No.”
“And see the lady over by the water cooler, look at her nervousness, she’s not supposed to be here and her body language tells me that, immediately.”
You hadn’t picked up any of the things Bucky had just pointed out to you, and it amazed you just how keen his attention to detail was.
“Last but not least,” Bucky stepped a little closer to you just as the elevator dined on the landing, “You walked out of your lab, looked around the room, and never saw me when I was sitting right here.” He motioned towards one of the chairs near the elevator and you frowned.
How the hell had you not seen him, that was not possible.
“But I-” You began to say and he shakes his head.
“Situational awareness.” Was all he said before he gripped your by the elbow and guided you onto the elevator, “Where to?”
“Lobby, we’re getting lunch.”
A curt nod and he pushed the button, his hand remaining on your arm the entire ride down to the lobby and even as he helped you into the car.
~~~
“There’s a bagel stand right there!” Bucky exclaimed, pushing open the lobby door the two of you walk out onto the steps of the massive office building, the air outside is cool and crisp, a nice change to the spring heat for once.
“Well, I don’t eat cheap bagels from a stand, I eat croissants from Butter.” You snorted shaking your head at him,
“What the fuck is Butter?”
“It’s my lunch restaurant, and you’re taking me there.”
“No, I am not.”
“Yes, you are.”
You crossed your arms defiantly and stood your ground in front of him. He’d already took your home from you and your freedom, he wasn’t going to take your lunch place from you now, too.
“Fucking hell,” Bucky muttered caving to your defiance.
~~~
“So, you got rid of my car.” You noted as the two of you walked into the restaurant you wanted to eat lunch at. Bucky tried to protest bringing you here, but you simply stated that if you didn't get lunch from this place you would have a full-scale meltdown in public and he would have to deal with it. To which he begrudgingly agreed even though he seemed tense the entire way there.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because the replacement is an armored car that can withstand the rounds of AR-15’s.”
You fell silent at that response, you weren’t expecting it or that he was prioritizing your safety at such a high level. As you walked towards the table near the window the usual spot you sat at Bucky stopped you. You frowned up at him and waited as he looked around the room, before steering you in a different direction.
“What are you doing? I want to sit there.” You protested.
“No, you can’t sit here.” He shook his head.
“James I want to sit there, I always sit there, it’s my table.”
“No. Look around, for fucks sake.”
You paused your argument for a moment and looked around with a frown, you clearly didn’t see what he saw.
“I don’t see anything.” You snapped.
“The exits are blocked from that area of the room, they are obstructed by the pillars. The window opens up the vulnerability of a sniper, and the area is raised, hazardous for quick escapes.”
Everything he had just pointed out was something you wouldn’t have even thought of, it made a little more sense why he was assigned to you, the man was like a robot when it came to safety.
“Situational awareness.” You said softly, realizing he was right.
“Situational awareness.” Bucky nodded, a pleased glint in his eyes when he sees you finally understand what he is trying to say.
“Alright, where are we sitting?” You asked.
Bucky gestured to a table nearby and walked you over, his hand on your back as he did so. The waitress comes over and hands you a menu she flashes Bucky a wide smile which he returns. Obviously, she blushes three shades of red and scurried off once more, you rolled your eyes at this. To be fair, he was really pretty.
Bucky took up a stance near the table not joining you, he crossed his arms over his massive chest, that broody look settling over his face once more as his eyes moved across the restaurant. You frowned at him,
“What are you doing?”
“What do you mean?”
“Sit down, you idiot.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“I don't care, I don’t want to attract attention by having your 220-pound ass hovering around me.”
“It’s for safety.”
“Well, you look really stupid and people are starting to stare, so sit the fuck down.”
Bucky chuckled, an actual chuckle and this amazed you. Had you really gotten the grumpy Winter Soldier to chuckle?
He doesn't say anything, instead, he walked over, kicked back the chair and dropped down into it, beside you. Resting his hulking forearms on the table, he looks at you, pointedly.
“Better?”
“Much.” You replied unable to keep the amused smile off your face.
He shook his head and said nothing. Instead, he watches you with a playful glint in his eyes. He doesn’t know how, or why, but he finds himself having a glimmer of interest in you. Maybe he even liked you a little, it was all that defiance and sass, it just reminded him of small Stevie.
Boy, was he in trouble with this one.
1K notes · View notes
xbaepsae · 6 years ago
Text
private tutor | part two (m)
“As you move your lips against his, you can’t stop thinking about how crazy this is. You’re kissing your tutor, and you like it. A lot more than you should.”
[tutor!namjoon x reader]
genre: college!au, humor, smut, kind of fluffy-ish
word count: 5.1k
a/n: here is part two (also a reupload). i added a few things, but besides this, it’s the same. part three will be here shortly. enjoy! xoxo
part one / part two / part three
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Tomorrow comes faster than you anticipate it to.
You wake up feeling anxious; thoughts of the unknown swam back and forth through your mind most of the night, keeping you wide awake. And it also doesn’t help that you’re starting to feel your stomach sink at the thought of meeting with Namjoon later. For a brief moment, you consider not leaving your room—maybe you just won’t show up for the tutoring session. But then you think about how badly you need that passing grade in chemistry, and such anxious thoughts begin to fade away. Sort of.
“Are you seriously going to meet up with Namjoon today?” You watch Ara take a step closer to your bed, which you have not bothered to leave yet even though it’s pushing noon, with her arms crossed over her chest. Her piercing eyes give you a look that makes you want to pull your covers over your head and reconsider not going to see him again.
“I have to,” is all you can say.
Your roommate sighs, “Well then, I guess you better get out of bed—don’t you have chemistry today?”
“No,” you shake your bedhead, “she gave us the day off.”
You are referring to your professor, the lady you went to beg on your knees to that one day, who has so graciously allowed the class to have a mental health day—or really, just a day to cram information before finals come up in a few weeks. The idea is nice and all, but there is no way you can do it alone. You have never been too great at studying; that is why you really, really need Namjoon’s help.
“Damn. I wish my professors would give us mental health days too.”
In comparison to you, Ara is doing well in all of her classes. When midterms happened a month ago, she aced all of her exams. Then again, you’re not too surprised. The girl does spend an awful lot of her free time in various tutoring sessions and at the library.
“You’re doing well anyway,” you reassure her.
Ara offers you a smile before her phone beeps. “I’ve got to head to class—let me know how your day goes. I want a full report later when I see you!”
You watch her wave goodbye, and you do the same, before the door shuts and you finally get out of bed. Walking to the little sink in your room, you brush your teeth and wash the sleep out of your eyes. Once you’re done, you put some weather appropriate clothes on—it’s supposedly cooler than yesterday, thank goodness—and your makeup before grabbing your backpack and leaving the room.
Halfway down the hall of your dormitory, you suddenly realize that Namjoon never gave you a set time to meet him. Panic fills you at the thought that he could be waiting for you at this very moment. And thus, you find yourself practically running to the library.
When you get there, despite the actual cooler weather, you’re sweating and out of breath. But luckily, there’s no soon-to-be-tutor in sight yet and you’re relieved. You decide to walk inside the library and order a coffee at the miniature café inside, taking a seat by the window once the barista hands you a steaming latte. Hopefully, by sitting here, Namjoon will see you because there is no way you’re going to wait for the guy outside—especially if you don’t know when he will arrive.
To pass the time, you pull out all of your chemistry notes and attempt to order them by units and different topics. But you find this to be a little difficult since you have, unfortunately, taken pretty shitty notes. There’s one sheet you find that doesn’t even have words on in—just a page of doodles. You’re horrible, y/n. However, all is not lost since you brought your textbook. Flipping through it, you make a few mental notes on different topics that you know you’re struggling with.
You don’t know how much time has passed, but you’re so focused on your notes that you don’t notice the pair of eyes burning holes into your skin. Looking up, you see Namjoon standing right by the double doors of the library. Immediately, you freeze at his expression. Oh shit. Should you be worried? Maybe you should consider digging your own grave.
“I told you to meet me outside the library…and you’re inside.”
“I-I just,” you stutter, “I didn’t know what time you wanted to meet, so…I decided just to wait and see if you’d swing by.”
He walks to where you’re sitting and towers over you, dressed in a crisp light gray button up and fitted black jeans. His glasses sit high on his nose again today, and his hair is styled to perfection. Namjoon makes you feel awfully underdressed for the occasion, in your baggy sweater and leggings, and you don’t like it—even though you have to admit he looks really good.
“Ready to study?” his voice is like velvet, and you respond immediately by fervently nodding your head.
Namjoon looks at you for another few seconds before nodding once, turning around and walking back towards the entrance. Quickly, you shove your things back into your backpack and follow him, but it’s hard to keep up since his tall frame is able to walk much farther and faster than you. How are some people so blessed to look like that—a whole Greek god—while you look like this? It just doesn’t seem fair.
As you follow behind him, he doesn’t say anything. Despite the lack of conversation, you can’t help but notice how he walks; with his back straight and a single hand tucked into the pocket of his jeans, he walks with an air of absolute confidence. And to everyone you pass, you watch as their eyes seem to follow his every move.
But Namjoon doesn’t seem to notice—or care, really. He just goes on his way as girls practically fall to their feet before him. You don’t bother to bring this fact up; instead, you choose to just be quiet.
After walking for a few minutes, and more than halfway across campus, Namjoon takes a turn into one of the new housing buildings on campus. You only know this fact because on your first school tour, a year before you began attending, they just started creating the foundation for the building. The closer you both get to the door, he pulls out his ID card and scans it.
He pushes the slightly ajar door open and says, “Ladies first.”
You offer an awkward smile before walking in. Behind you, you hear Namjoon follow and the door shut tightly behind him.
“So, where do I go?” you ask, looking in front of you at the empty lobby of the dormitory. You turn around and take a sharp inhale when you realize how close Namjoon is. Between the two of you, only a few inches of space exists and your only reaction is to suddenly take a step back.
He smiles at your shocked state, “We can take the elevator.”
“Elevator,” you whisper more to yourself and see the shiny metal doors in the center of the lobby. You walk over there and press the button that lights up and opens the elevator doors. You tell Namjoon that he can walk in first, since he lives here, and then you follow behind him—which leaves you standing right in front of him. Fucking great.
As the doors shut, you ask him what number to press and he tells you that he lives on the third floor. You press the blinking number three button and feel the gears of the machine begin to work. The entire ride up three floors has you sweating—god, you’re sweating a lot these days—and you can feel the heat emanating off of Namjoon’s body; the scent of whatever cologne he’s wearing permeates the tight space. All of the sensory overloads makes it hard for you to think straight, and you don’t know how to shake it off.
Eventually, after what seems like years, the elevator finally reaches the third floor and you can breathe again. You walk out first, inhaling deeply, and move to the side, letting Namjoon lead the way to his room. He walks down the left side of the hall and to his door, which is the last one on the right. As he proceeds to open his door, you look around the floor and realize that there aren’t many rooms up here.
It seems like there are half the amount of rooms here, in comparison to your own dormitory hall. And it makes you curious to see the inside of his room. Namjoon unlocks his room with his keycard and pushes the door open, walking inside. The door moves further open and you’re surprised at how big his room is. It looks to be about twice the size of your own room and furnished much nicer. Also, there was a striking difference…
“You live alone?” There is only one bed.
He throws his keys onto the white duvet covering the bed and faces you. “Yes.”
“Perks of being an upperclassman, huh?” you smile, even though you’re feeling a bit envious that your living conditions are so much worse and you have to share it all with someone. But then again, you like having a roommate—or at least, you like Ara. You’ve heard horror stories about terrible roommates, so you’re happy that you and Ara get along.
“I suppose.”
You fully walk into his room and let the door fall to a close. “Ready to study?”
Namjoon has a keen ear and notices you repeated his words from earlier. He tells you to set your things on his bed and that you both can get situated at his desk. Moving some of the things on his desk around, you pull out your chemistry textbook and the notes you were looking at in the library. He tells you that you can sit in the rolling chair as he pulls another one from the corner of his room.
“So, if I ever tutor anyone,” he begins, and you catch onto his use of the word if, “I like to ask them what they already know—there’s no point in asking what you don’t understand about a subject.”
You proceed to tell him that you took basic chemistry in high school, a class you made an A in, and that’s all you remember. Clearly, your high school teacher failed you in terms of actually soaking up the information and keeping it with you forever. As you say this, he looks at you rather thoughtfully, which you appreciate. At least he isn’t looking at you like you’re an idiot.
“That’s basically it,” you conclude.
He nods, “That’s good—knowing the basics is the foundation of everything. Rome wasn’t built in one night.”
“But finals are soon.”
“Y/n, I’m positive I can bring your failing grade up to a solid C average.” In your head, the motto C’s get degrees runs continuously through your mind. You also realize that it’s the first time Namjoon has said your name all day.
You hand your notes to him and frown when he just tosses them to the side. “Hey—I worked hard on those. I even made mental notes on what I’m having trouble with.”
“You wrote gibberish.” He wasn’t lying. “We’ll just use the book—along with your mental notes.”
Over the course of the next hour or so, you sit mesmerized as Namjoon goes from unit to unit and explains everything in detail. He flips from page to page fast but condenses the information enough so that you are able to comprehend it. And surprisingly, he makes all this stuff seem easy and it actually makes sense to your brain. Slowly, but surely, you start seeing the bigger picture and how everything connects together.
“How are you so good at this?” you question as he moves onto a new chapter in the book. “I mean, aren’t you majoring in philosophy?”
You catch a small smile on his face. “I prefer spending my days reading Descartes's theories about substance, but I’m just good at everything.”
“Okay,” you laugh, rolling your eyes a bit.
“But no really, my IQ is 148 so I just pick things up easily.”
Damn. “148? That’s impressive.”
He shrugs and then quickly explains an example of thermodynamics. “You know, I like being this intelligent and all, but it can honestly become a little mundane. People become very uninteresting after a while.”
“Is that why you live alone?” you ask.
“Yes, but I also prefer to be alone as well.”
You make an o with your mouth. “I’m sorry if it seems like I’m intruding then.”
The last thing you want to do is make him uncomfortable. But he waves your comment away. “It’s okay, y/n. I don’t mind people…once in a while.”
“Good,” you smile, and this time you mean it—teeth showing and all. And for a moment, his eyes move to your lips and lingers there. You wonder briefly if there is something in your teeth, but before you can ask he’s already flipped a page in the textbook.
Another hour goes by in a breeze and by this point, you don’t know if you can fit another bit of information in your brain. You swear that you’ve learned more in this short study session than you have the whole entire semester. It’s sad, but the truth. With all this newfound knowledge, you can feel a headache begin to pulsate at your temples and coax its way over your whole head. But you don’t voice your thoughts out loud, mainly because Namjoon is still rolling through the textbook.
Instead, you suck it up and continue writing down whatever he says. Despite your best efforts to pay attention and keep your growing headache at bay, you manage to zone out a few times. Perhaps, that is why you’re failing; you have the attention span of a fly.
“Y/n.”
“Hmm?” You look at Namjoon, blinking a few times.
He sets down your chemistry book. “You’re zoning out.”
“No, I’m not,” you insist, picking up the book, “I was totally paying attention to your explanation about…” you look down at the opened page and land on the first example you see, “the different levels of energy.”
“I just turned to a random page.”
Oh god, how embarrassing. You laugh to relieve the awkward air and then clear your throat, “Okay…well, continue please.”
With your pen back in your hand and your eyes on the book, you wait for Namjoon to forget you completely didn’t pay attention to a word he said for god knows how long. But as you burn holes into the small print on paper, he doesn’t budge. What is taking him so long?
“Do I make you nervous, y/n?”
You look up from the textbook, eyes wide. What the hell? “Umm…no.”
Namjoon twists his head to the side, “So, you wouldn’t react if I did this?”
Without a warning, he begins to trail his fingertips over the fabric of your thin, legging clad thigh. He barely makes contact with your body, but you part your lips in a silent gasp anyway. This seems to produce the right reaction that Namjoon wants because he smiles widely and moves closer to you.
“I think you like me, y/n,” he says, eyes boring into yours. “But I don’t blame you, though—half this school population feels the same way.”
“For someone who claims to be somewhat anti-social, you’re so full of yourself,” you roll your eyes. “I don’t like you. I mean, I literally just met you yesterday.”
He only seems to be getting more and more amused by the minute. “Sure, but you don’t not like me.”
“Whatever,” you dismiss and focus back on your book. “Aren’t you supposed to be tutoring me, Namjoon?”
“Don’t you think your little brain has had enough today?” he asks, and he’s not wrong—you were mentally complaining about all the studying earlier. But you raise a brow at the mention of your small brain, feeling slightly insulted. Just because Kim Namjoon has an IQ of 148 doesn’t mean— “Besides, I want part of my payment now.”
The payment. Your heart begins to race in your chest. The events from your first encounter with him yesterday resurface in your mind, and you can still feel the moment he brought a finger to run along your jawline. The memory of his touch is burned in you forever.
“I’m a broke college student,” you use the phrase everyone your age uses these days as an excuse, but Namjoon doesn’t seem to have it. He shakes his head, leaning closer to you. As he moves nearer, he mentions something about money and how he doesn’t want that kind of payment from you.
“Y/n, I only tutor if it’s a mutual reciprocation; I give and you give. I have already tutored you for the majority of the afternoon—an abundance of my precious time. Therefore, for you,” he leans in closer, “it’s time to pay up.”
And before you can make another lame excuse, his lips are on yours.
He tastes of slight mint and you don’t know what comes over you, but you kiss him back. It’s a natural reaction and Namjoon seems pleased that you’re responding to his advance. As you move your lips against his, you can’t stop thinking about how crazy this is. You’re kissing your tutor, and you like it. A lot more than you should.
Slowly, you begin to feel the temperature around you start to rise and suddenly all your different layers of clothes feel too hot; too much. And it doesn’t help the fact that Namjoon has brought a hand to curve around your waist, burning through to your skin. You pull your lips away from him, feeling too warm for comfort. He frowns immediately, asking what you’re doing. You tell him it’s too damn hot in his room, which he slyly smirks and says, “I have that effect on people.”
“You’re so—” just as you’re about to call him cocky, he’s lifting the edges of your sweater over your head and off your body. “Namjoon!”
“You said it’s too hot,” he smiles, pushing the bridge of his glasses up before pulling you closer and kissing you again.
Without the extra piece of clothing on you, you feel exposed in your barely covered torso. But that thought is tossed out the window when his lips move from yours, down to your jaw, and then to your neck. He begins to suck slowly, tickling your skin and you can’t help the moan that suddenly leaves your mouth. Embarrassment floods in a wave of pink onto your cheeks at your reaction, and you can feel Namjoon smirk against your skin.
He continues to suck at the delicate skin of your neck, for sure leaving a mark there, and you let out another few breathless moans. Namjoon was only kissing your neck and you were already having this sort of reaction. A part of you couldn’t wait for more.
Your eyes close on their own accord at the feeling. You’ve kissed plenty of other boys before, but never did many of them pay so much attention to other parts of your body. Namjoon’s lips dip a bit lower to your chest and at this point, you’re leaning back against the chair with your back arched a bit. Just as you expect his lips to move even lower, he moves away from you and you open your eyes.
“Move to the bed,” is all he says and you do it right away, pushing your things onto the floor.
Settling yourself there, Namjoon towers over you and bites his bottom lip. He removes his glasses, setting them down on the desk, and then proceeds to unbutton his shirt. As you begin to see the smooth skin of his chest peeking through with each unbutton, you’re suddenly very mentally aware of what is about to happen. You should be freaking out, but you’re more excited than anything.
Once he reaches the last button and strips his shirt off his body, he gives you that smirk again, “Take off your bra.”
You wet your lips at his command, nodding before leaning up to unclasp your bra. Namjoon watches as you slowly remove it from your body, letting the straps dangle in your hand before you toss the bra on the floor. He stares at your chest, lips parted, and brings both his hands down to cup your breast.
He squeezes each of them and pinches your nipples, in which you elicit a moan from the roughness of his hands. Namjoon continues to play with your breasts, loving the way they bounce in his hands and how your nipples harden so pretty.
“Fuck,” he groans and moves his lips back to yours. Without anything acting as a barrier between you and Namjoon, your nipples graze against his torso and it feels amazing.
Namjoon kisses you with so much fervor—a hand tangled in your hair and the other still clutching onto one breast. Your own hands are also in his hair, weaving your fingers through his lighter locks. You slightly tug at his hair, which only makes him kiss you harder. He bites your lips and grazes his tongue against yours. And this is just kissing; you can’t even begin to imagine what’s next.
You get your answer when Namjoon begins to move his hands down past your belly button and to the waistband of your leggings. He remarks at how great these leggings make your ass look before tugging them down your hips and legs—underwear and all. He only lifts his lips off of yours to help you get your clothing past your ankles. When you’re fully naked, he gives your body a once over a runs a thumb over his bottom lip.
“What?” you question, feeling super exposed. Unconsciously, your legs come together and thighs clench at the way Namjoon looks at you.
“Lovely,” he says once he’s making eye contact with you again, and you blush because you can’t help it.
“Aren’t you going to get naked too?” you ask, motioning to his still very clothed bottom half.
He gives you a half-smile, “No need to rush.”
You roll your eyes at his words. “Whatever.”
Even though you’re exposed in front of Namjoon right now, you don’t feel too terribly awkward. Yes, his actions are rather forward but it’s strangely comfortable.
“We have time,” he tells you and then sets a hand on one of your thighs. “So, spread your legs, baby girl.”
Your lips part slightly at his words; he was extremely forward. But you do as he says, slowly inching your legs apart. As you spread your legs, Namjoon massages your thigh while whispering for you to move just a little wider. This leaves your legs spread to nearly the corners of his bed and even more exposed to him than before. “Like this?”
Who knows where you find the guts to say those two little words, but you do and the reaction you get from Namjoon is everything. “You look so fucking hot like that, baby girl.”
Hearing that pet name again does something to you; deep in the pits of your stomach, you begin to feel a slow ache move through your body, and it’s both a delicious and painful feeling.
Namjoon now has two hands on both of your thighs, teasing up and down; moving close and then far away from the place where you’re beginning to ache the most. And then just when you think you can’t handle it anymore, his fingers begin to rub your clit. You throw your head back onto the bed, the pressure feeling so good.
“Fuck, y/n, you’re so wet already,” he hisses, rubbing up and down your slit. “So ready for me, huh?”
You moan, telling him that you need more—to which he just smirks down at you and then stops moving his fingers immediately.
“What the hell?” you groan.
“Tell me how bad you want it,” Namjoon says.
You bite your lip, “Badly.”
“Are you sure about that?” he raises a brow. “Because I can’t tell if you really do.”
To prove his point, Namjoon begins to tease you again. He touches you everywhere but the place where you need release the most. You move your hips slightly, trying to gain some sort of friction, but he presses a hand over your stomach to stop you.
“Touch me, Namjoon,” you boldly say.
One side of his lips rises into a smirk, “Touch you where?”
“Anywhere…everywhere.”
“With what?” he asks. “My hands?”
You nod your head adamantly, telling that you want exactly that. Despite your desperation, he still doesn’t budge from where he stands in front of you. “Namjoon…”
“Or how about my mouth, baby girl? I bet you’d like that even more.”
Oh fuck. You nearly hit your high on the spot. This back and forth teasing made you so turned on. “Anything, Namjoon. Please, please just touch me. I need it—I need you.”
You nearly cringe at how whiny you’ve become in the timespan of a few minutes, but you’re desperate for some sort of release from the hell Namjoon has been putting you in. You really do want him to touch you, and you don’t care how he does it. All you know is that his teasing has put you in a lot of pain. “Okay, if you say so, baby girl.”
Namjoon spreads your legs again and then crouches on the floor. He pulls your hips to the edge of the bed, so his head is right there aligned to your core, and begins to lick up and down slowly. Your hips lift off the bed immediately upon contact, but both of his strong hands push you down as he continues working his mouth on you.
After one or two slow tongue movements, he finally gives in and begins to suck on your clit—hard. He flicks his tongue against your sensitive little nub and it feels so good. You let out a string of moans and fist his hair in your hands. “Fuck—yes.”
While he applies pressure to your clit with his mouth, one of his hands reaches up to caress your breasts and pinch your nipples. Your back arches from pleasure and you grip his head in-between your hands, gently beginning to grind your hips. You cry out his name, feeling yourself getting closer and closer to that release you’re craving so bad.
“Getting close, baby girl?” he asks against your lower lips. You can only nod, still moving against his face.
Looking down, you notice that Namjoon is staring up at you, making direct eye contact, as he continues to lick and suck your juices. The image makes you feel even hotter, pushing you closer to the edge.
“Namjoon,” your voice is shaky as you shut your eyes, feeling yourself nearly there.
“Come for me, baby girl,” he prods, suddenly shoving two fingers inside of you.
And that’s when stars cloud your vision as your body convulses through your orgasm. He rides out your high until you can’t handle the sensitivity anymore and push him away. As he pulls his finger out of you, bringing them to his mouth to suck, you lay on his bed covered in a sheen of sweat, feeling completely satisfied. You look at Namjoon, who has since moved to sit on the bed, heart skipping a beat at his equally sweaty body and mess hair.
“Thanks,” you tell him as you sit up, not really knowing what else to say.
He pushes his hair back, nodding, “Ditto—you taste amazing.”
You flush at his words and he gives you a look that sends your body into another frenzy. Moving forward, you close the gap between the two of you and kiss him. On his lips, you can taste a bit of yourself and you want more. You push yourself closer to him, arms wrapping around his neck. You’re about to tell him that you need him, but your phone suddenly rings and the both you of break away to look at the desk. You walk over and pick it up, noticing that Ara is calling you.
“Hello?” you answer, turning around to sneak a glance at Namjoon—who looks so ridiculously sexy right now, you don’t even know what to do with yourself.
“Y/n? Where the fuck are you?” Why does she sound so aggressive?
You frown. “Studying, why?”
From the other side of the phone, you hear her sigh, “Oh my god, you forgot…didn’t you?”
“Forgot what?”
“We were supposed to come to the game tonight, together.”
And that’s when you gasp and scream, “Shit!”
“How could you forget, y/n—we talked about this the other day! It’s one of the final games of the season and you promised to help me out!”
Ara is a part of the fundraising committee that always has a booth at various school events—like games and such—and they sell merch or food to raise a little money to give back to non-profit organizations. You’ve helped her out a few times already this semester, and promised you’d help again tonight since there’d be a lot of people. However, tonight, it totally slips your mind.
“I lost track of time, sorry,” you say and check the time, eyes widening when you realize it’s already nearing six o’clock.
“Just hurry, okay.”
She hangs up on you and you run to put on your clothes and grab your things. Just as you pull your sweater over your head, Namjoon stands in front of you. Shit.
“Everything okay?” he asks.
You shake your head. “I forgot about a thing I promised my roommate I’d do…and I’m running late and she’s really mad at me.”
“Yeah, I could hear her from where I was sitting.” You flush again from the fact that he heard you getting chewed out by Ara.
“I’m sorry you had to hear that,” you say, slinging your backpack over your shoulders, “but I really have to go.”
Namjoon just nods, slipping his glasses back onto his face. “We can study again another time.”
“Sure—we can do it at my place next time, if you want.”
He nods again and you brush the hair out of your face before running out the door, to the elevator. As you get inside and press the button for the first floor, you let out a deep breath and try to calm your dramatically racing heart.
107 notes · View notes
rosalynbair · 6 years ago
Text
Nerd Kylo Ren Headcanons
AO3 | Masterlist | Buy me a coffee
Summary: Kylo’s a nerd
Warnings: None
A/N: This came up in the group chat so whaddup bbs @damndriver @galaxygarbage @your-mom-kylo ((has this been done before??))
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Kylo isn’t exactly the nerdiest of nerds. He’s not a geek (he’s horrible at math and Leia once sent him to math camp because he was failing so hard in school) He just really likes nerd content.
Math camp in itself was a horrible experience for him so please don’t ever ask about it (even if you see the cute little photo in the Solo’s living room of Kylo in his bright orange I Survived Math Camp t-shirt)
Kylo originally finds solace in comic books when he was only eight. He had a lisp as a child and hated speaking to people because they would always comment on it or make him repeat everything that he had said.
His lisp had made him retreat into awkward silence, refusing to speak which then showed itself through his high level of shyness.
It only gets worse when he’s prescribed glasses because he’s strained them too much from reading in the dark when he’s supposed to be sleeping.
They’re really big, square glasses at first. Until he gets into his teens and he finally replaces them with in-style rectangular ones with a black frame. Though once he graduates high school, he only uses them for emergencies since he’s discovered what contact lenses are and how to put them in.
When he’s in his tenth and eleventh grade, he’s collected a really incredible amount of vintage and original comic books, signed memorabilia (his favorite is the signed Batman poster he has above his dresser that’s signed by everyone who has played him on the big screen)
His bookshelf is lined with Funko Pops, they’re mostly superheroes, but he has a few characters from tv shows. He has a lot of them still in their boxes stacked up beside his computer desk as well.
He rides an old skateboard most of the time when he’s in high school. He gets his license at 16 and his parents buy him a second hand car, but he prefers his skateboard unless it’s raining or during the winter.
Nic wants me to let everyone know that Kylo wears VANS all the time. Every season, he’s always wearing the same type of VANS (black on black with old laces. He gets a new pair every school year.)
Kylo has trash taste in music. It’s eclectic and often includes movie scores and music that nobody has heard of. (He does have a few songs that people DO know, he’s a fan of Kendrick Lamar and a few of Drake’s songs.)
By the time Kylo is in twelfth grade, he’s completed his speech therapy so his lisp no longer exists. Though he still doesn’t like to talk to people that much.
Kylo goes to college on the East Coast for fine art and photography when he graduates. He lives in a shared dorm for the first year with a guy he actually makes friends with.
During his second year, he moves into a shitty apartment after staying at his parent’s place for the summer. He grows up a lot during that summer, he goes through a final growth spurt and he’s no longer lanky and awkward. His voice has lowered by a shit ton, and he grows his cropped hair out until it’s shaggy and Leia complains about it.
He’s not as quiet as he was when he was younger - he’s one of those kids that college does real well and when they come back to visit, you barely recognize them.
Kylo is snarky with a hilarious sense of humor. He also has a smirk that can make anyone swoon (he doesn’t know this though. He still thinks he’s still 14 and awkward)
When he goes back to school // moves into his new apartment, he takes as much as he can in his shitty little car that he’s had since he was 16 and has barely maintained.
Leia and Han end up shipping the rest of his stuff out to him so he can have everything he wants and needs for his ~aesthetic~
While he’s going to school, he ends up working at a comic book store a block away from his building. He gets a lot of shit from there on his employee discount, especially new games for his stations, or the Switch he had preordered for himself (he’s finished Breath of the Wild twice already)
This lame ass probably also streamed his playthrough on Twitch as well.
He meets you during November of second year.
Unlike Kylo, you’re not a nerd. But you do know a lot about what he likes. Which draws him towards you while you’re both in the cafe on campus.
At first, Kylo thinks you’re way out of his league. You’re pretty and have friends, you have your own study group and you tutor students when they need help.
You both end up near each other a lot, you work at the bookstore on campus to pay your rent. Kylo comes in a lot when he needs a snack, energy drink, or a new set of charcoal pencils for his class.
He doesn’t know it, but he’s really good at smooth talking you. He thinks he’s still the awkward kid with a lisp, so he thinks he’s just talking out of his ass. But he’s been late to class a few times because he’s so caught up in talking to you.
There’s one point where he’s running ridiculously late to class, and he has to stop by the bookstore to get a new notebook.
He’s also wearing his glasses in public for the first time since he’s started college.
His hair is a mess, his flannel shirt is inside out and he’s in the same shirt as the day before. He’s also wearing the wrong pair of VANS, which means they’re old and half tattered as he runs into the store.
You watch him, amused. He’s rushing to grab a spiral notebook for his lecture, his bag half open and hung over one of his shoulders.
You check him out quickly, making him take a deep breath as he pays.
It’s then that you ask him out on a date.
Kylo is an absolute mess, and doesn’t even hear your question as he yells ‘thanks!’ and runs out.
You’re embarrassed, but realize how rushed he was. And you knew he wasn’t too great with people.
Your question doesn’t even register to Kylo until he’s halfway to his class (which is on the other side of the campus)
He yells ‘Fuck’ really loud and pulls out his cracked phone from his pocket as he jogs, He searches up the bookstore number and dials it, cursing as it rings.
“College Bookstore, y/n speaking, how can I help yo-”
“Yes!” he yells, breathless as he gets into the building “Yes i’ll go on a date with you.”
“Okay.” You reply with a laugh “I have caller ID on here, so i’ll text you my number. Have a good class Kylo.”
Kylo is 25 minutes late to his class, and he’s so out of focus while he bounces his leg the entire time. Waiting for your text to come through.
He thinks you’ve forgotten until he remembers that his lecture hall doesn’t have any service. He forces himself to take notes at that point, trying to be productive until his class was over.
When he’s dismissed, he packs up quickly and rushes outside. Checking his phone every step of the way until he had full bars again. His phone lights up with a text from an unknown number.
He’s grinning as he sees the shitty DC meme you sent to him, followed by letting him know that this was in fact your number.
Kylo picks up a coffee after that, grabbing you the one you usually order and dropping it off to you at the bookstore. You thank him happily, letting yourself lean against the counter to talk to him.
You let him pick the type of date, saying that you would be done your shift in an hour, and then your class would be done at six. (he’s adjusting his glasses aggressively the entire time he talks to you, resuming the nervous habit he had as a kid.)
He picks you up from the campus in his car, the engine stuttering and the gear shift clunking loudly.
He takes you to the comic book shop, and the diner across the street from it.
That’s right. Kylo takes you to his work for your first date. (He needed to pick up something as well. So it’s like hitting two birds with one stone.)
It was originally going to be in and out, he didn’t want to bore you with the shop. But you end up staying in there for almost an hour, pointing out games you’ve played and arguing about which character and which game in the series was better. (also making fun of the people who think that Link is Zelda.)
It’s the best (and only) date he’s ever been on.
You both go out on a date once a week until you finally make it official after a couple of months. You had skipped the honeymoon/newly dating phase and had gone directly into the type of couple that has been dating for years.
No one really understands why you two are together. From the exterior, you look like opposites. But anyone who’s friends with either of you know how much you two are similar.
There could be a group conversation and you can banch off until there’s only the two of you talking about something the others don’t understand.
You always complain about his car. You hate it. You’d rather him carry you like a bride while he rides his skateboard.
There’s a particular moment where the car stalls and Kylo reassures you “Don’t worry, this happens every once in a while.”
“WE’RE ON THE HIGHWAY KYLO.”
Kylo gets a new car after that.
In his third year of college, you move in once your lease is over. You share his space, but everything has to be moved around to accommodate you and your stuff. So Kylo moves most of his stuff into the second bedroom that used to house his old roommate.
It’s like the dream nerd room. With all his memorabilia, posters, his really expensive gaming computer and a tv with all his gaming systems.
He wears his glasses whenever he’s at home. And you love it. He looks so fuckin cute when he wears them.
You really like the little indents he gets on his nose from wearing them for long periods of time.
You also pick up on his habit of adjusting them when he’s nervous, anxious, or shy. Which you find really cute. (he even attempts to do it when he’s not even wearing his glasses)
When Kylo’s with you, he feels like he’s all the superheroes he used to look up to. He loves the hell out of you.
Even after being together for a long time, he still takes you on dates to the comic store (which he ends up being the manager for in his final year) and you still get into heated arguments about games and comics.
All in all, you guys are like a dream team. Kylo still can’t get over the fact that you picked him out of all people.
Taglist: @tonguepopperr @ben-solo @lumifuer @secretlygrantaire @sdavid09 @imagine-this-motherfucker @bellaren18 @oh-adam
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ghostydoof-blog · 7 years ago
Text
OOCly viewed chatlog you know the drill.
-- technicalGyrations [TG] began pestering eggBoy [EB] at 08:16 --
[08:16] TG: egg BOY
[08:17] EB: egg boy.
[08:18] TG: egg boi
[08:18] EB: that's me.
[08:18] TG: like soulja boy
[08:18] EB: one hundred percent farmland fresh egg boy.
[08:18] TG: but with eggs
[08:19] EB: hot off the truck and into market, soon to be on your breakfast plate at denny's when it's 2am and you're feeling down.
[08:20] EB: we should go to denny's sometime at 2am when we're feeling down.
[08:20] TG: we could go to dennys right now if youre feeling down
[08:21] EB: it's not 2am yet and i've been up since six making myself homemade mac and cheese.
[08:22] TG: okay instead of dennys come to my work and eat mac n cheesy with me and tell me whats going on
[08:24] EB: i can't, legs are broken.
[08:25] EB: my face hurts.
[08:25] TG: JOHN
[08:25] TG: JOHN!!!
[08:25] EB: suddenly my fingers are broken too, my skin is paper and my bones glass.
[08:25] TG: JOHN EGBERT YOURE KILING ME
[08:26] EB: it happens.
[08:26] EB: you are way too excitable for this time of morning, dave.
[08:27] TG: i have to be im at work and i gotta be excitable so i dont fall asleep
[08:27] TG: so i got music playin and im knitting and drinking some tea
[08:27] EB: i'll accept that.
[08:27] TG: you could be energized too if yall came here
[08:27] EB: i've got a pot of coffee on the table next to my bed and i have been playing threshers 2 all morning.
[08:28] EB: i need to get human games so i can stop playing this.
[08:28] EB: i.
[08:28] EB: ugh.
[08:28] TG: are you havin fun with it at least
[08:29] TG: whats wrong dude
[08:29] EB: i do.
[08:29] EB: i guess?
[08:29] EB: it just upsets me.
[08:29] TG: why?
[08:29] EB: actually a lot of things upset me lately apparently.
[08:29] EB: i'm worried about sollux.
[08:30] EB: apparently i had a family that i don't remember.
[08:30] EB: oh and we're from the same earth i accept that ok?
[08:30] EB: apparently your shades are from me.
[08:30] EB: somehow we forgot these things.
[08:30] TG: i need a second to process this
[08:30] TG: okay im starting the process
[08:30] EB: so i mean i haven't been able to talk about any of it and i'm losing my mind over it!
[08:30] TG: who told you this?
[08:31] EB: rose.
[08:31] TG: how do they know??
[08:31] EB: she's the only one that i've met that will just TELL me about myself.
[08:32] EB: she knew a john that she played that god awful game with.
[08:32] EB: her john knew a dave.
[08:32] TG: and her john gave her dave the same pair of shades i have
[08:32] TG: ?
[08:32] EB: they all played that game together.
[08:32] EB: yeah.
[08:33] TG: i have a feeling that we played that game together too
[08:33] EB: how?
[08:34] EB: everyone that has KNOWS they have.
[08:34] EB: how do you forget DYING?
[08:34] EB: or being a god or something?
[08:34] TG: when i talked to sky about some of this he basically said that what my dream was lines up with some stuff that happens in it and if youre from the same place as ME then we would have HAVE to played it together or someting like that
[08:34] TG: i think were remembering it though
[08:34] TG: since meeting each other
[08:35] EB: :/
[08:35] EB: i can barely sleep anymore, my dreams are so weird they wake me up now. i can't remember them but ugh.
[08:35] EB: they leave me in a cold sweat.
[08:36] TG: ive just been having a lot of migraines lately about all of this stuff
[08:36] EB: ugh.
[08:36] EB: yeah.
[08:36] TG: no dreams i can remember besides the one of someone giving me my shades
[08:36] TG: which is now you
[08:37] EB: when rose was telling me about the shades it hurt, and when she was trying to tell me about my family i?
[08:37] EB: i had a family, dave.
[08:37] EB: a dad.
[08:37] EB: you saw me give you your shades?
[08:37] TG: in a dream, yea, but it wasnt you in my dream just some shadowy ass lookin figure
[08:37] TG: a dad
[08:38] TG: is there any way you could find him?
[08:38] EB: he doesn't exist. the actual address on my id also does not exist.
[08:38] EB: the street does, but there isn't that number house on it.
[08:39] EB: i guess he did something shitty with baked goods and that's why i still don't like them though.
[08:39] EB: so maybe it's not that much of a loss.
[08:40] TG: i had the same thing happen to me address wise like they looked it up and theyre like shit my dude you dont exist
[08:40] TG: and that makes sense i guess
[08:40] TG: some shit like that probably stayed latent in your brain and surfaces without your control
[08:40] EB: yeah.
[08:40] EB: it still sucks!
[08:40] EB: i want him back, dave.
[08:41] EB: i'm grown now but i didn't want to be stuck in foster care for two years! i hated it.
[08:41] TG: i want you to find him so he can explain where the hell hes been all these years
[08:42] EB: he's dead.
[08:42] EB: if i remember correctly, it's been mentioned that he died.
[08:42] TG: WHAT
[08:42] TG: what the fuck
[08:42] EB: or disappeared into the game, if we really did play it.
[08:42] TG: thats even worse
[08:42] TG: but if he disappeared into the game like us wouldnt he be back if were back? this is so fucked up dude
[08:43] TG: do you think if you have a dad
[08:43] TG: that i have a dad
[08:43] TG: ?
[08:44] EB: probably! rose mentioned having a mom too i think.
[08:44] EB: or someone else had a mom. or something?
[08:44] EB: i can't tell if i know this stuff or if someone told me anymore.
[08:45] TG: i mean i guess the only thing we can do is ask rose more
[08:45] TG: if she doesnt mind?
[08:45] EB: she says she doesn't but i wouldn't want to push it.
[08:45] EB: she has a key to my apartment so if you want to meet her you could use my place.
[08:45] TG: we could talk to her together
[08:45] TG: just a meeting betwen all yall
[08:46] EB: i don't know dave she's really nervous about people still.
[08:46] EB: sort of a one on one kind of girl.
[08:46] TG: i could sit in the bathroom while we talk so she doesnt have to see me
[08:47] EB: oh my god dave no.
[08:47] EB: then we'd have to be in my bedroom!
[08:47] EB: what am i going to do, text her up and be like hey rose want to hang out in my BED?
[08:47] TG: dude weve hung out in your BED before
[08:48] EB: yeah but we're also more accustomed to that sort of thing.
[08:48] EB: she's been really alone for a long time, i don't think she's quite ready for THAT.
[08:48] TG: you have seen my shirtless bod before so were past that level of friendship
[08:49] TG: okay new plan: i can hide behind the couch while all yall are on the couch and i can talk from there
[08:50] EB: she might kill you if you do that.
[08:50] EB: but it's your ass not mine.
[08:50] EB: also your body is fine dave.
[08:50] TG: okay new plan: you can facetime me and we can talk from there
[08:50] TG: my body is,
[08:52] EB: how about this?
[08:52] EB: i talk to rose and ask if she'll meet you.
[08:52] TG: that also works
[08:53] EB: no deception and you guys can still use my place.
[08:53] EB: and dave.
[08:53] EB: your body is fine.
[08:53] TG: IT IS,
[08:53] EB: it IS, yes.
[08:53] TG: im yellin
[08:53] TG: youre too nice to me
[08:53] EB: i'm telling the fucking truth you goon.
[08:54] TG: youre STILL too nice to me you goon
[08:54] EB: if i wasn't armpit deep in my clinically diagnosed depression i would come kick your ass.
[08:56] TG: i mean i want to come over to kick your ass out of your armpit deep clinical depression but im at work and also armpit deep in my clinical depression
[08:56] EB: well look at us both stuck in this quicksand of sadness.
[09:03] TG: well pull each other out eventually
[09:03] TG: just gotta wallow for a bit til we feel better
[09:03] EB: i was doing ok until the shit hit the fan.
[09:03] EB: is it bad that it bothered me less when i didn't have friends?
[09:04] TG: i mean same but thats cause you have your own ways to deal with things and when friends get involved you feel like you gotta blab to them about everything and it messes up the coping
[09:04] TG: at least thats my theory
[09:05] EB: no.
[09:05] TG: ?
[09:06] EB: it's because i had nothing to worry about. i worked, a came home to my apartment. i ate and slept and watched movies and had nothing to think about but the next day.
[09:06] EB: now?
[09:06] EB: now i'm worried about my troll friends because they might just die for no reason.
[09:07] TG: and thats making you feel worse combined with your own stuff you got on your mind
[09:07] TG: i gotcha
[09:07] EB: i worry about my human friends because some of them are so sad that i just want to hug them and tell them it will be ok.
[09:07] EB: and yet no one wants me to care.
[09:07] EB: so i'm trying to not care.
[09:07] EB: it's hard.
[09:08] TG: hey if it means anything i want you to care about me
[09:08] TG: and i bet all your friends appreciate you caring even if it seems like they dont
[09:08] EB: congrats you're the only one that does!
[09:09] EB: between troll dave shitting on me for being empathetic and me royally fucking it with sollux i'm ?
[09:09] EB: trolls?
[09:09] EB: what are they?
[09:09] EB: why are they?
[09:09] TG: trolls are strange as hell and they have different views on emotions than humans do
[09:09] TG: makes em a bit complicated
[09:10] EB: i noticed.
[09:10] EB: apparently i messed up and started doing some weird quadrant stuff at sollux.
[09:10] EB: but it doesn't matter, he says it doesn't bother him.
[09:10] EB: (spoiler alert: it does.)
[09:10] EB: and i know it does.
[09:11] TG: i mean id be surprised if it DIDNT bother him
[09:11] EB: but if i don't say anything about it and act normal maybe it will be ok.
[09:11] TG: hes probably just making it seem like it doesnt bother him both for you and for himself
[09:11] EB: but i can't bring myself to talk to him because i don't want him to stop being my friend.
[09:12] TG: you should still at least talk to him if hes your friend dude
[09:12] TG: but i also think you should talk about the pale stuff too
[09:13] EB: i tried to.
[09:14] EB: but everyone else seems to want to get their nose so deep into my business there's no room left for me. i appreciate spanky but uh...he's way too nosy for someone i don't know.
[09:15] EB: i also don't get the subtle difference in what changes being his best friend to being his pale...whatever it's called.
[09:16] TG: theres only one way to find out and thats asking him about it
[09:16] TG: but id think it over before you do
[09:16] TG: i dont completely understand troll stuff either even though i live with two of them
[09:16] TG: and dude if you need me to back off just let me know ok
[09:17] EB: well, karkat told me he doesn't want any quadrants right now so i mean i don't want to poke that hornet's nest and bite the dust on it yet.
[09:17] EB: there's also the uh.
[09:17] EB: looming possibility that he's going to die.
[09:18] EB: so that's a thing i'm supposed to probably pretend that it doesn't bother me.
[09:18] TG: um what
[09:18] EB: he's messing with that game, dave!
[09:18] EB: and something is wrong with it! like really wrong!
[09:18] TG: nothing good ever comes from that goddamn hell game
[09:18] EB: it's not like i pour over every single post of his but i see enough to know that something bad is going to happen.
[09:19] TG: you definitely pour over all his posts
[09:19] TG: callout
[09:19] TG: and yea
[09:19] EB: i do not!
[09:19] TG: i have a bad feeling about this
[09:19] EB: he's not even denying it anymore, dave.
[09:21] TG: i think cause he realizes shit is going to hit the goddamn fan
[09:22] EB: i know.
[09:22] EB: i should just let other people do things for him.
[09:23] TG: john
[09:23] TG: why
[09:23] TG: ?
[09:24] EB: because.
[09:25] EB: i don't know anything useful to him. i don't know about the game.
[09:25] EB: i don't know anything about trolls.
[09:25] EB: or their romance.
[09:25] EB: or their society.
[09:25] EB: the more i learn the more worried i get.
[09:25] EB: the more i wish i could just pull him here.
[09:25] EB: give him a hug, tell him it's ok!
[09:25] TG: once he gets into the game he might be able to get here though
[09:26] TG: transportalizers are normally a game thing i think from what ive seen
[09:26] EB: i don't want him to ever go into that goddamn game dave!
[09:26] TG: rossea didnt play and she had to build her own
[09:26] EB: i want him to stop messing with it before it's too late.
[09:26] EB: he's going to die.
[09:26] EB: and i'm going to lose my best friend.
[09:26] EB: i'm...
[09:27] TG: john
[09:27] EB: i'm sorry.
[09:27] TG: i dont think hes going to stop messing with it
[09:27] EB: i know.
[09:27] EB: i know he's not.
[09:27] TG: so you can at least hope that he finds a transportalizer and get the hell out of there
[09:27] EB: i do hope.
[09:28] EB: but we didn't.
[09:28] EB: did we?
[09:28] EB: you died.
[09:28] TG: i
[09:28] EB: and so did our friends.
[09:28] TG: i dont know
[09:29] EB: we didn't survive that game.
[09:29] EB: not the same way other people have.
[09:29] EB: did we?
[09:29] TG: i dont think so
[09:29] TG: ?
[09:30] TG: but i dont know what happened at all
[09:30] EB: well my dream says everyone died.
-- eggBoy [EB] is now an idle chum! --
[09:42] TG: my dream says at least me died so i believe your dream
-- eggBoy [EB] is now an idle chum! --
[09:44] EB: it doesn't make it any better.
[09:45] EB: i have a lot of worries ok?
[09:45] EB: i'm sorry for suddenly dumping them on you but they just keep coming.
[09:47] TG: dude john
[09:47] TG: dont be sorry at all
[09:47] TG: were friends right?
[09:47] TG: thats what friends are for
[09:47] EB: yeah!
[09:47] EB: still.
[09:48] EB: i kind of exploded there.
[09:48] EB: hey dave.
[09:48] TG: what
[09:48] TG: ?
[09:48] EB: denny's date tonight?
[09:48] TG: of course : *
[09:49] EB: good.
[09:49] EB: because i feel like sobbing into a grand slamwich.
[10:09] TG: you can sob into as many grand slamwiches as you want bud
[10:09] EB: i can only maybe handle one.
[10:10] EB: they're kind of gross.
[10:10] TG: perfect to cry into then
[10:10] EB: exactly.
[10:10] EB: you've witnessed me crying, i'm gross.
[10:11] TG: DUDE youve witnessed ME crying
[10:12] EB: then we're even.
[10:30] TG: : *
[10:30] EB: right back at you buddy.
3 notes · View notes
shaddy-bee · 7 years ago
Text
I KNOW ITS BEEN LIKE 300 YEARS BUT-
5 things you’ll find in my bag
Right now theres uhh Notebooks, both school and 1 art. Drink mix ins, with such great flavors as sour apple jolly rancher and crush pineapple (tm) Two packs of cards, one of which steam punk themed and the other your regular ol bicycle. A calculator. Its a shitty old one but its for tests, i have google and shit for anything i need myself.
5 things you’ll find in my bedroom
A roommate. Idk if he is gay or what but he isnt straight, name’s will. Chill dude. Sleepin rn, what a fella MY SICK ASS COMPUTER IM MISSING OUT ON BECAUSE MY ROOMMATE IS ASLEEP AAAAAAAAAAAAAA I WANNA PLAY ROCKET LEAGUE WITHOUT LAGGING TO HELL also programming my mods. Need to upload that shit. Shit what number we on, 3? Okay cool. A bed. Wow really a bed in your bedrooM? yeah its pretty fuckin spectacular i know. I dont have posters n shit so like i gotta be creative you feel. A microfridge. Now i know what youre thinking, “ah a small fridge whats the big deal?” but no you dont understand, its a microwave fucking bolted onto the top of a fridge. They gave zero fucks attaching these two together and apparently the name is the same way, WHY NOT A FRIDGEWAVE EVEN LIKE MICROFRIDGE JUST SOUNDS LIKE A SMALL FRI- Last but not least, im tempted to just say my wallet here tbh, cuz its old but like, youd EXPECT that now would you? Something boring and mundane for me to fill out the word count with making everything super exciting so nah man, fuck it. Theres air in my bedroom. Fight me.
5 things I’ve always wanted to do in my life
Make a videogame. Like okay, a lot of stuff on this list is jokes and stuff, and I know im going into too much detail and my followers will probably murder me in cold blood for this shit, but im serious about this one like - i have some ideas, but i never have the motivation alone to like work whole-heartedly and finish one but like, at some point in the future id love to sit down and just go at it and make a game. Doesnt matter if its popular or big or small just i wanna make something that i love ya feel? I wanna like, go to newark, delaware. I know, its delaware and all, no one lives there, but ive met a bunch of cool people there and i was promised a donut run sometime, so lookin forward to that. Yknow that post awhile back that was like “i dont wanna be rich and like buy shit, i just wanna have enough money to throw at kickstarters whenever i want without having to strain on my food and rent costs” thats me. 100% Like i wanna have just enough money to be able to donate to cool people and watch them do cool shit - it wont always work out but thats fine, I just love shit. I wanna be able to donate like the high prize and fly out to meet these game studios for coffee and shit and just talk with em and see their passion and ideas. I love it. Im not actually really sure besides those. Like idk. I think itd be cool to enter a game tournament with my brother and win, but i doubt thatll happen and its not super like on my desires just itd be cool cuz we named ourselves Sora and Shiro after NGNL and to see that like, have us win would be great. Yeah. Ill make my fifth to think of a fifth one.
5 things on my to do list
FLOPPY DICKS i mean disks. Floppy disks. I do binding of isaac ab+ modding shit, and im currently working (its mostly done for what i want it to do) which adds a new consumable called floppy disks, effects are based on viruses, bugs, and just computer based shit. Like BSOD for instance, which makes the screen literately bluescreen. Or atleast look like it. Cant wait to watch people play with it. I gotta work on the programming class project too but honestly i dont waannnaaa. Like its cool as shit. Recreate a card game using c++ code. But man, i just love Apocrypha and Floppies so much more. Eat today???? Please. Dining hall opens in 3 hours. Its goddamn 4 am. I want my food. Dunno if ill get it - if ill stay awake till then. But i want it. Probably draw some stuff? Like i posted one drawing already (check it out if u wanna ;) kay?) but like theres wacom tablets here i can just kinda use whenever???? its great. I love being able to just draw stuff on em. Even if i suck at drawing, even if it took 10 hours to make the one i posted here, still love. Probably play more rocket league. Sleep first, soon as i get that food im CRASHIN BOI IM OUTTIE HA but uhh, rocket league has a halloween thing rn and i like playing it. Was playing earlier today and i matchd with a dude in 2v2 that had the same car, skin, AND colors set up as mine. Totaly random. We kicked some major ass together. I kept thinking of the same hat comic the entire time. (also my card was superior because it had furry ears on it ;))
5 things that make me happy
Getting an idea for a thing and working at said thing until like boom it went from this abstract idea to now it has a physical form and it works! And its fun and its great and i can share it with other people and they can have fun too!!!! that feeling is wonderful.  Obviously friends man. Just doing shit with people can be so great sometimes - like not all the time sure but like man. Its nice to talk to people and share experiences and just smile and tell bad jokes and have them groan but like it anyway like thats the shit. Going out at 2 am and walking to a nearby run down schoolyard and swinging on the swingsets and watching shooting stars burn up. Thats the good shit. Getting tents and setting em up in your friends back yard when your friend from far away comes up for a few days, and playing ridiculous games in a group like kick the can or fuckin zombie screaming your lungs out in the dark to freak em out, or just talkin around a fire about fuckin life man. The people make life great. Shits worth living for. I realize that last answer covered a LOT of shit but like, im just gonna add here videogames. Would be amiss if i didnt mention that, considering the rocket league rant above lmao. Yeah i better not make this category any longer.
5 things I’m (currently) into
Isaac modding, probably will be for awhile. Its good shit. As a suggestion from one of the people I work with (we also fuck around its a good time) i have started watching space dandy. Its a slow progress through lol like an episode or two a day but god man like its pretty ridiculous and the main character is pretty much everything i was expecting from seeing him everywhere. Rocket league again. It comes and goes with various different games to tide me over, give me a break from working. Bout 2 months ago or so said relaxing time was dominated by anime - i suddenly went on like a massive streak of watching shit. By that i mean, i watched all of hunter x hunter in like 2 weeks, among other shows prior to it. But yeah. Fuck man HXH I LOVED THE KING WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. I have too many emotions about that. I wrote a rant to the Groupchat (tm) about the fucking battle and how everything is in slow motion but it fucking like makes it like foreshadowed and have so much of an impact and still so much fucking happens even while everything runs at super slow mo just GOD KLASFJBHUGHASFIUHIPJASK anyway. Yeah. Music, as always im listening to like constantly. Wireless headphones are a wonder for this, but uhh....i cant say im especially into any specific thing rn right? Like a bit ago i was super into joywave and then that faded out and now im just listening to whatever random shit, yknow? But I am into music in general. Its good. Art! A lot of times i dont do shit like for drawing right, like especially not in like pencil in notebooks but like, i sorta started doing a lot more art stuff? Like i had a period awhile back last year where i stopped using pencils and used only pens and i just loved the aesthetic of the ink like how it looked (funny how im doing the opposite of the fucking inktober though, huh?) but yeah im back into using pencils to draw shit occasionally. Im still terrible at drawing people (which is what i see mostly everyone drawing on tumblr lmao RIP) but its fun to sketch stuff out and just let my thoughts run and bounce to some music and shit right? Also the tablets. Especially with the tablets.
5 things people may not know about me (at least on tumblr)
I basically constantly wear sweatshirts, and they all have like earbuds where the strings go. All the earbud shits are broken pretty much, like occasionally they work (the one i have rn does) but like, i dont ever really use them? i have wireless headphones for my phone and a headset (because i need the mic for my computer) for said computer so like, idk. But yeah. I rarely take em off when im not home, and sometimes even when i am i just kinda keep em anyway? (also just now i realized i talked in the section for room shit about all the stuff in my current dorm, my room at home has all KINDS of wierd fucking shit in it. Really missed an opportunity there.) Like many people i like to stay hydrated and shit, but drinking water all the time seemed like a chore more than anything so i got like drink mix ins and shit, mio’s or whatever offbrand version you can find at your local SUPERSTORE CONGLOMERATE. I drink em like all the time pretty much so atleast im health in one way :P. Also gummy vitamins. I dont excercise but you can only ask for so much. Idk, its hard to think of things for this section because tumblr knows so little about me yknow? Like i never make my own posts or shit like its SUPER rare so im pretty much just tryna find random facts but that might not be interesting? Like i have a bad habbit of like talking way too loud when im excited about something right? Not quite yelling but like getting there and like idk. See? Thats not super interesting but it is something no one online would be able to really know ya feel? Idk. I mean physically im kinda fat as you do, but im also like wierdly strong? Like for someone who never works out i sure do have arm strength if nothing else lmao. My endurance is shit tho. Honestly? I can only blame it on osu and groceries. Osu is just a game i like where you mash buttons to the beat of weaboo shit tier music. The groceries is just because like, well, my policy is Least Trips Possible which means carrying in 13 bags at a time if need be it, fuck it milk too? And a watermellon? Bring it. 
Who am I tagging? Idk man. Just for shits and stuff tho i do wanna tag @theoriginalyami just to see what all’s changed in teh long time since i actually went to fill it out :P Dont feel like you have to add as much as me tho omg @milkchocolateowl because honestly? love you. Think about you a lot, just like glad im mutuals with that ray of sunshine. Good. @fantaledfish <3 (this is the friend i mentioned earlier, runs a QUALITY blog i guarantee it, better than mine for sure) @dragonfucker-supreme always top in my notes, a silent bond, like two guards assigned to watch back to back in the early dawn. Birds gather round. I can only tag so many people (i set myself a limit of 5 because...idk why i just mentally it felt right) so for my last trick gotta go with @ask-oncies-jizz like cmon man name changes for the win, also has quality icons and quality shitposts tbh, supreme top meme. Have fun yall.
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