#e: future

[forever-yours-things]

[fernsnailz]

old friends

[arcadebroke]

[spectra-bear]

(first comic's coloring was done by my beloved friend @r0b0t1me)

And thus this story comes to a close... Thank you so much to everyone who's been following up since the beginning, and to those who hopped in along the way til the end, and to @apatheticrobots for allowing me to participate in the making of this fic (be sure to drop kudos and a kind comment when reading, and check out more of his other works!!!),

Sal and I have never stopped appreciating the endless support coming from both ends 💜

Alt versions of the comic + t&e fleo ref!

Dont forget to check out the extra snippets that comes along with the main story! A visual of chapter 2 from another perspective~ ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

[hufflepotato-18]

“If Gilbert had been asked to describe his ideal woman the description would have answered point for point to Anne, even to those seven tiny freckles whose obnoxious presence still continued to vex her soul. Gilbert was as yet little more than a boy; but a boy has his dreams as have others, and in Gilbert's future there was always a girl with big, limpid grey eyes, and a face as fine and delicate as a flower. He had made up his mind, also, that his future must be worthy of its goddess.”

- Anne of Avonlea, L. M. Montgomery

[baeshijima]

imagine an au where you wake up to a chill seeping through the comfort of your duvet. it's a little unusual. the mornings shouldn't be so cold anymore; did you maybe leave the window open?

a headache blooms along your conscience, and you think that maybe you had one too many drinks out of frustration last night. but, then again, it's not your fault that prickly bastard got on your nerves and made you drink till you passed out. he just has it out for you!

bare arms are draped over your equally bare midriff, its hold around you tightening and— wait. you're NAKED?!

by the speed at which you flipped to your other side, you wouldn't be surprised if you got whiplash. actually, scrap that. maybe the familiar face lying beside you, alongside the marks you barely caught a glimpse of amidst your turn, is more than enough to wish you actually did get it.

"mmh, what's wrong?" he mumbles in all his sleepy glory, clearly disoriented from your sudden movement. a hand rubs against his heavy lids in a feeble attempt to clear out the bleary fog which clings to his vision, one in which blocks the sight of you by default. "you're never up before me in these mornings."

...how did you end up in the bed of your arch-nemesis (self-proclaimed), naked, and— why is he staring at you so affectionately? weren't you just at each other's throats a few hours ago? (figuratively or literally, it doesn't matter. you were at each other's throats all the same.)

(or, you somehow find yourself three years into the future, married to the very same prickly bastard who made you black-out drunk (self-inflicted). and naked (not self-inflicted. probably).)

[silentgrim]

bella!

[lithiumandsushi]

[tddoodles]

Gwen, but punk, I think?

[humanoidhistory]

NASA concept art by Don Davis, featured in The Rotarian, June 1978: "This artist's conception of a huge space colony could become a reality by 2008. Floating in space more than 250,000 kilometers from earth, the colony would house a population of 10,000."

[ambrosethedarling]

Jayrose, Fake Marriage (for the Work Benefits) Rival Coworkers to Best Frenemies, Slow Burn, Future State- Canon Divergence

Comic reference under the cut

[chippycore]

hmm

[spectra-bear]

Sharing this a tad bit late on tumblr, but a new chapter has been dropped for T&E~! the aftermath has arrived and all is well and swell :)

Be sure to drop a kudos and kind comment for my sal pal @apatheticrobots as always ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

[front-facing-pokemon]

[writingbyshiloh]

Nosebleed

Request: hello! good morning/afternoon/night! I was wondering if I could request something from jordan li x fem!reader (established relationship), something like the reader is very very clingy and shy, she is stuck with them all day and it is very strange not to see them together, and Jordan becomes very soft only with her. Maybe Marie's reaction like she was surprised that someone like Jordan could be so soft. Obviously only if you feel comfortable!

AN: I realized when editing I missed some of the prompt but I did get an established relationship w soft Jordan in front of Marie. Still working in the 3k fic but I wanted to do something short and sweet.

CW: Nose bleeds and descriptions of blood, no beta

WC: 0.7k

The situation may feel claustrophobic but the spaced-out seating makes you feel comfortable. Jordan is sitting your your left, Marie to your right for some fun first-year elective about Voughts CEO - Ashley 101. You and Jordan are taking it as a GPA booster. 

To you, Marie is a bonus. You recognized her on the second day of class and called her over, offering a seat next to you. Seating was a free-for-all, especially with most people blowing off this class, but you like her company. It was nice to sit and talk with her before class started. Jordan didn’t feel the same way but kept their opinion to themselves.

“I heard Ashley and the director of the Dwan of the Seven had an affair,” you say, pulling your notebook out of your bag and a few pens. Jordan doesn’t respond past a noncommittal hum, but Marie is wide-eyed in fascination. 

“Emma’s mom told her that Ashley trying to make a documentary about her life,” Marie tells you. You cock your head to the side. 

“Emma’s your roommate right?” you ask. You've heard Merie talk about an Emma but you can’t figure out who she is. You feel Jordan subtly nudge your arm with your elbow, but you ignore them. 

“Yeah. She's in the Crimson Countess school of acting.” Marie says. 

“She’s in Counting.” Jordan pips up. You press your foot against theirs in a silent warning to leave Marie alone. 

Marie shifts in her seat slightly, eyes narrowing in slightly on yours. You can see her thinking, mind racing. What Jordan said is a dick move because no way a first-year would know specific Godolkin slang, it's not horrific. 

“You have a nosebleed.” She tells you, quickly and quietly. You touch your thumb to your nostril to check. Your thumb comes away clean, and you frown slightly. Twisting in your seat, you face Jordan, wanting them to examine your face. 

Hyperaware of your nose you can start to feel the blood slowly trickle down and out. You’re sure your eyes are wide in shock trying to stop the nosebleed by holding your finger up to stench the flow of blood. Your plan is failing, crimson liquid trickling down your finger. 

“Babe! Are you okay?” Jordan asks softly, not wanting to draw attention to you. The pet name and softness probably seem out of place to Marie. 

“I have tissues in the outer pocket of my bag,” you say, twisting your hand so your mouth is free you try to speak. Jordan's eyes flick from your face to behind your shoulder to Marie. 

You feel your bag be tugged by your feet but ignore it. Jordan pulls your arm away slowly, eyes narrowing in on your nose and lips. The bleeding has slowed but you still feel a small swell of blood hit your lips. 

The pack of tissues slides in front of you to Jordan. They take one from the crinkling packet and press it against your nose. With their free hand, they manoeuvre yours to hold the tissue in place. 

Gently, they place their hand on your chin, tilting your face up. You frown at the coppery taste now in the back of your throat and the warm sensation there. 

“You tilt down for a nosebleed.” Marie corrects. Out of the three of you, she would have the most experience you assume. Jordan follows through, hand now on the back of your neck tipping your face forwards, allowing the blood to flow out of your nose easier. You try to wipe the blood of off your lips with a clean tissue. 

“Thanks, Marie.” You say kindly, sneaking a peak at her under Jordan’s hold. She nods and flashes you a tight smile. You worry it's because she thinks you’re weirded out that she told you you’re bleeding. But then you see her eyes dart to Jordan and that makes more sense. You forgot Jordan in public varies from the Jordan you get to see.  

“Thanks, Jord.” You move your head back to Jordan, angle funny as you’re looking up from where they’re holding you. Under the desk, you feel their fingers twisting around yours, squeezing in a silent you’re welcome.