#im pinching pennies at this point

[bxdtime-ceai]

thinking about law school and im so excited to be back in an academic environment

[depresseddepot]

I hate the US grading system !!!

[babyphat05]

I know you mention red flags but what if I DON'T KNOW what red flags to look out for?? Like what are some things that would be consider a red flag and what I should look out for when it comes to the men who I'm talking to (im the last inexperienced dating anon)

okay men to avoid:

- Men who bring up sex talk too soon. There's no reason whatsoever that a guy should be talking sexually and asking you suggestive questions within the getting-to-know-you stages. Not only is it disrespectful, but it shows that he's probably a sex-crazed lunatic and it's best to steer clear. I've had friends talk to men who talked too sexual too soon and they decided to ignore this blatant red flag just for these men to be absolutely nuts. So please, avoid them.

- Men who bad-mouth their exes. I've talked to men who played the victim in terms of why their previous relationship ended and I always avoid these types of men like the plague. It takes an emotionally mature adult to know that it takes two to end a relationship and it's a bit strange when a man is pointing fingers and is putting the sole blame on their exes regarding why their previous relationship ended. Also, men bad-mouthing a woman period always makes me super weary.

- Men who do not have positive male figures in their lives. I don't expect every guy that I talk to to have an amazing relationship with their father, but I need them to have some sort of positive male figure in their life. Why? Because men who don't tend to suck. I really don't have the time to teach a grown man how to treat a woman because of their past trauma and neither should you.

- Cheap men. A lot of women need to understand that just because a man has money on paper does not mean he's going to spend his alleged money on you. You know the traits of a cheap man. He's complaining about "gold diggers," he's always nagging about how expensive everything is, and when the waiter asks if you all would like dessert he immediately asks for the bill without any consideration for what you might want. Dating a man who's penny-pinching is such a boring experience and is not fun at all. If a man doesn't start out spending the big bucks, he's most definitely not interested in doing so later down the line.

- Gentlemen qualities! All women deserve to be treated like a princess. If a man doesn't know when to open the door for you, to walk beside you and never in front of you, and simple gentlemen qualities that he should have been taught when he was younger, then send him back to the streets where he belongs.

[iguessthisisanewobsession]

It takes a mob Part 1

PART 2

Bill didn’t sign up for this.

He glanced around at his fellow gang members as the kid let out another shrill cry.

The kid was couldn’t’ve been two. He was small, in a can and from it’s shivering Bill could guess very cold.

“Aw hell..”

Lifting up the tyke, Bill grimaced as he pealed off the what he could only assume was some sort of blanket and blindly handed behind himself.

“What the fuck is on that shit?”

“What the fuck would I know Maven? Do we look like a baby experts? Kind of smells like blood..”

“Blood ain’t green Ken..”

“Did I say it looked like bloo-“

“Will you two quit yapping? The kid doesn’t look too good someone hand me a jacket.”

Bill cut the off as he ran a hand over the kid’s back. After a quick round of rock paper scissors, Marv handed over his hoodie with a pout.

‘The kid is way too small’

Bill grimaced as he tried his best to wrap the kid tightly. He could probably his fingers around the kid’s waist and still be able to drop a penny between them.

“Was there anything else left with ‘im Bill? A name or-?”

“Not unless it’s on a candy wrapper.”

Bill sneered as he kicked the trash can over,

“There’s a lot of types of fucked up in Gotham but to leave a babe outside in January..”

Marv pluck the kid out of Bill’s hands and gently bounced him on his hip. Cooing gently as the boy’s blue eyes started to close before smiling and asking,

“So what’re we goin’ to name him? I vote Danny. He looks like a Danny.”

“Ayy no, we’re not naming him nothing. We are gang members, Hood’s gang but still. What we are going to do is clean and warm him up before we set him down at the Wayne foundation’s-“

Bill paused Marv let out a shriek. The kid had let out a sneeze. Usually wouldn’t’ve been that big of an issue but there was now a very big patch of ice on the building’s side that wasn’t there before.

Shiiiitttt..

The kid’s a meta.

Could a kid his age even become a meta?

How?

“We can’t take him to the foundation Bill.”

Ken muttered,

“The Bat will be notified day one an’ send him packing. Tough enough in the system as is, the second he has that M on his papers his chances of a normal childhood is zero.”

“And what do you think we can do about it? In case you forgot, our boss works with the bats.”

“We can hide him!”

Marv chimed in,

“There’s a couple dozen of us around, I’m sure if we just ask-”

“Are you hearing yourself speak? Hide him from the bats. It won’t work.”

Bill pinched the bridge of his nose as leaned against the alley.

“So that’s it we’re just going let the kid be push around the country? He didn’t came from a happy home Bill! The system will eat him alive and then there will be a freeze jr. in 15 to 20 years! Shhh shhh sorry Dan-Dan sorry, Calm down baby.”

Bill watched as Marv continued to shush the baby. For being gang member Marv has always been a gentle soul, everyone knew his soft spot for kids.

“Fuck…”

Ken chuckled as he ruffled “Danny’s” hair.

“Done being a dick?”

“Yeah, yeah.. yuck it up you two. If this blows up in your faces than I want no part of it.”

“Come on Danny let’s go find you some food. There’s got to be a convenience open somewhere around here!”

Bill sighed as the two exited the alley with the gurgling baby. Hiding him from Red hood was going to be impossible but at this point he knew when to give up a fight.

Taking one last glance Bill let out a weary chuckle and looked to the sky.

“I should’ve never left the goonion..”

[astralnymphh]

dogwalker!ellie inspired by this by @beforeimdeceased because it has been leeching my brain nonstop ever since it was published.

i've felt the lull to tread a new story idea— something sweet, romantic, humble, and penny plain. and gosh, the blurb aforementioned really has me thinking about this trope. i already thought of a possible title cause im that much of an idea generator— an ode to sunflowers.

but mmm, can you imagine dogwalker!ellie evolves into dogsitter!ellie? quaintest little scenario. let me paint the picture; bright neighborhood, elm trees spread along the patches of grass adjacent to the sidewalk, sun spilling through greenery gaps, mourning doves chattering amongst their flock, a cloud here— cloud there, a prosaic day ran through a picturesque world. you cross paths with ellie on her usual route day–by–by, excluding the weekend, so you know her character. how she walks, how she talks, how good she is with a dog, how much of a dorky satyr she is. doesn't even live here. she's just there to dogwalk, or less often, housesit for this elderly lady— like today.

so while on your promenade upon this silvery gray sidewalk, you weren't surprised to see the usual gilding of flaxen hair near to the ground — followed by a head of earthly auburn at the raise of an eye. what surprised you is her asking of, "so, if you're free, maybe you'd like to.. come over? got a house all t'myself." and her cute little hand gestures she did— awkward, but adorable, bending at the knee and pointing behind her with a thumb, wide orange–slice smile and unforgettable dimples.

you were at a crouch, combing a lend of fingers through the dogs locks, gazing up at her with a cloven–open mouth and hard staring pupils, as if you were planning up an answer inside your noggin— realistically you were too hyperfocused on counting all her freckles, they're just so.. there.

"fuck— I shouldn't have asked that, mhhph," she flicks her head up, wrenching her eyelids and pinching the bridge of her nose with paired fingers, stuttering, "you're probably pretty busy anyway and I—"

"I'll go."

"don't think you'd wanna stay in a house with a messy.. slobbery— wait what?" she unscrews her eyes, catching the rise of your crouch, to now standing.

"he's fond of 'pretty girls', yeah? he shouldn't mind being around two." chirped you with a sigh flowing off the last word, cocking your hip to one side and giving the most slickest smile, ever.

now ellie is the one blushing her ass to smithereens, flusher than a cherub, yet— scoffing, impressed. that was entirely too fucking smooth, hmm?

let's just say.. staying over at that elderly woman's home was the best decision. wink wonk TRIBBING wink wonk. ✮

[seeingivy]

blessing

megumi fushiguro x gn!reader

you and fushiguro talk about names

content: nothing, light mentions of blood

an: your consolation prize - a megumi draft while I edit you belong with me gojo. if your name has a meaning, im sorry it doesn't anymore.

--

“Do you think names are important, Megumi?” 

Megumi flutters his eyes open and squints in the dark to direct his gaze to you. You’re splayed right against his bare chest, nimble fingers drawing indiscernible shapes onto his skin. He knows you can’t sleep after missions, which is the only reason he allows your needless rambling at four in the morning. 

“Is this another of those angel sign things Nobara taught you?” he groans, lifting a hand to place it in your hair, the smell of your strawberry shampoo wafting into his space. 

“It’s angel numbers and astrology signs.” you respond, lightly nudging him with your elbow.

“That stuff isn’t real.” 

“Maybe not Megs, but it’s fun to think about.” 

You look over at him and Megumi can feel his heart thumping in his chest, your expectant eyes staring at him as you wait for a response. And he hates that your stupid eyes always make him give in. 

“Okay, fine. Tell me.” 

You grin and readjust yourself so you’re propped up on his chest, so you can get the perfect vantage point of the grumpy face he’s going to make at you. 

“Some people think names have power. Like, depending on what the meaning of your name is, that can affect how you act and who you are and stuff.” 

He frowns, reaching forward to flick you on the forehead, before grabbing your hand and resting your knuckles against his lips. 

“So you’re saying, if we named our kid asshole, he’d be an asshole?” 

“Our kid would be an asshole because you have an attitude problem. Not because we named him asshole.” 

He rolls his eyes, reaching forward to pinch your cheeks. 

“But think about it, Megs. For example, Yuu’s name means relaxed and caring. Don’t you think that fits him?” 

“Itadori is anything but relaxed, Y/N.” 

“Okay, well. It’s half true. Nobara means thorny. Doesn’t that compliment her cursed technique?” 

“Uh huh. I still don’t buy it.” 

“Or Gojo-sensei. Satoru means understanding, like enlightenment. He’s literally the strongest sorcerer.” 

Megumi wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you up closer to burrow his face into your neck. He loves the smell of your shampoo, of your flowery perfume - but loves it even more when he can smell it on himself the next day. 

“You talk too much, Y/N.” 

“Do you know what your name means Megumi?” 

“No. I’ve never really thought about it.” 

“Your name means blessing.” 

Megumi has never wondered about his name or what it means. All he knows is that when he was younger his dad and Tsumiki’s mom disappeared one day, leaving the two of them alone. That is until Gojo showed up. 

And unlike you, he’s never really thought about these things. Star signs, Enneagram personality types, birth charts, angel numbers. According to you, they’re little signs - from the celestials, the universe, something out there bigger than you two. 

Granted, he knows you’re being silly. That you don’t really believe it. But he can’t help but wonder. If his parents saw him and picked out the perfect name. Or if they saw a baby book and closed their eyes and pointed till they found one they liked. If they named him blessing, because they thought he was one. 

If they were intentional in their love for him, like you have been for the past year, the two of you have been dating. You leave a glass of water on his nightstand, so he makes sure to drink water in the morning. Pick up his drycleaning when you’re on your way home, insisting that it’s no trouble and you’re already there. Tell him to throw pennies in fountains and make a wish just because. 

“I think it fits perfectly, Megs.” you whisper, tracing a little star onto the side of his arm. 

He doesn’t respond, his blue eyes focused on the ceiling above you too. 

“I just mean. Gojo-sensei was probably really lonely after everything that happened with Getou. But you were around and he had you with him, so he wasn’t really lonely. And-and I know Yuuji appreciates being here with you and that he really admires you. Nobara too and-” 

“Y/N.” 

You think back to the mission, earlier today. And it keeps replaying through your mind, every time it’s quiet enough to think about it. 

You let your guard down for a few seconds. A few seconds too many because when you and Yuuji turned around, he was on the floor - thick, red blood spilling out of his forehead. And really, if you weren’t busy discussing what souvenirs to buy on the way out, if you were paying attention, maybe you wouldn’t be the one dragging him back to Shoko’s and watching from a distance with such an intense guilt that it made your stomach burn. 

“I think you’re a blessing too, y’know? Maybe I don’t say it all the time, but I do. I guess it’s just hard to say how you feel sometimes when…I don’t know, we could die tomorrow Megs and-”

Megumi brings his hand back up to your hair, brushing through the tangles at the back as he presses a kiss to the top of your head. You know Megumi. His hand in your hair - to drop it, to let it go. The kiss on your head - that he’s already looked past what happened. 

“What does your name mean, Y/N?” 

“Dunno. Couldn’t really find it in the books or anything.” 

--

You wake up to the left side of the bed empty, the mattress cold and missing a Megumi shaped space. His glass has been drained on the nightstand, meaning he’d probably left already for breakfast. You quickly pad back to your own dorm and pull your uniform on, before joining them all for breakfast. 

You join the three of them at the desk - already loudly arguing about god knows what. You place a hand on Megumi’s shoulder as you slide into the seat next to him, granting you a small smile from him. He places a hand on your thigh and squeezes, another one of Megumi’s silent messages. 

You’re okay. 

Nobara and Yuuji are holding up the name book you had looked at the day prior, Nobara pinching the end of his ear as they argue. 

“This name thing isn’t true. You’re full of shit.” Yuuji complains, pushing the book towards you and Megumi. 

You open up the book, already open to Yuuji’s name at the end of the book. 

“Who the fuck said I thought it was true? It’s just fun to look at.” Nobara responds.

“Well, why did you bring it up? You’re acting like you’re connected with some celestial body shit but you’re just making stuff up.” Yuji responds, standing up. 

The three of them stand up, packing up their things as they get ready to head to training on the field with the second years. You’re still stuck on the book - flipping through to check everyone’s names. Gojo, Shoko, Toge, Maki. 

As you flip through the pages, you note a dark indentation on one of the pages in the middle, and quickly try to flip through to find it again. 

“You coming?” Megumi asks, bag slung over his shoulder at the door. 

“Yeah. I’m coming, give me a second.” 

The three of them shrug as they walk out, their incessant chattering still heard from the window outdoors. You finally find the page and the dark blotches of writing at the bottom. 

Someone’s written in the book, with a black marker. You recognize the handwriting immediately, Megumi’s freakishly neat handwriting inscribed in the book. 

Y/N. Meaning: love or warmth. 

You quickly shut the book and run out, where the three of them are already walking to class. Nobara and Yuuji are now peering over her phone, looking at god knows what, which you take as your opportunity to grab Megumi and lightly drag him back. 

“Megs.” 

“Hm?” 

“Did you write in the book?” 

He rolls his eyes, lightly nudging you with his elbows, as you guys keep walking on. 

“No. I didn’t.” 

“Yes. You did. I know your handwriting, idiot.” 

“No. I didn’t. And even if I did, so what? The book was missing your name.” he responds, pinching his eyebrows as he looks at you.

“Okay. So you did write in it. But you can’t just give my name a meaning, we don’t even know if that’s true.” 

“All words have made up meanings. If someone came up to us and told us that trees are actually called birds, we’d start calling them birds.” 

“Okay but-” 

“I decided. That’s what your name means. Because that’s what you are. Now, be quiet and focus on training.” he responds.

He drops your hand and walks past, stretching in between Nobara and Maki as the group of them start stretching out. He looks over and gives you a soft smile, the one he only reserves for you, and you can only think that you truly are blessed, to be loved by someone like him.

--

taglist: @porridgesblog @platrom @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @luna0713hunter @shotenvinsoott @itzmeme @squirrelspoetry

[sleepymarimo]

𝐢. 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭

summary: you were supposed to be just another job, not a damn attachment. what starts as a routine kidnapping gig turns into a lot more once toji finds out that he might have more in common with you than he thought. pairing: toji fushiguro x fem!reader cw: kidnapping, severe physical injury toward reader (not from toji!), mentions of blood and wounds, violence an: hello! just had this idea stuck in my head and had to write it out... has nothing to do with the other multi-fic toji thing im working on! still, this one will have two parts, just 'cause. wc: 2.86k part ii. found coming soon!

toji is used to this.

he’s an expert at what he does.

he lives for the chase, the hunt, as if the sense of control he gets from catching his prey will make up for those countless years he’d spent under the chains of the zen'in clan.

it’s easier this way. his life as an assassin gives him the freedom to indulge in those carnal instincts and hell, he gets paid a pretty penny to do it, too.

the sorcerer killer had been on your tail for a little over two weeks. shiu had brought up the job, but toji didn’t bother asking for details.

as soon as he saw the pay, he was game.

whoever wanted you was even kind enough to throw in a deposit of sorts which, while gracious, was quickly lost in a bet.

you’re a cautious little thing, he notes as he allows himself to lean against the wall of a grubby alley.

he never missed how you’d take different routes to your dingy apartment, how your eyes swept diligently through the crowds or how you kept a hand in your pocket at all times,  where he was sure there was a weapon of sorts.

but you never noticed him, no. he’d always been invisible, using his own personal curse to his twisted advantage.

deciding to stretch out this little game of his, he waits until you finally lower your guard before making a move.

that comes a couple of days later, when he watches you exit your apartment with a suitcase. did you have a flight to catch? did you think you were in the clear?

there’s a certain brightness in your features. relief? he doesn’t bother to ponder it any further, especially when he notices how carefree you are.

your mistake.

he rolls his shoulders and makes his move as you’re waiting for a cab, so far into your head that you don’t see him approaching you.

even if you had managed to, it wouldn’t have done you any good.

the clients had wanted you unharmed, so the hitman-for-hire begrudgingly complies.

passersby barely realize what’s going on. a flash of black bolts by you and suddenly you’re not on the corner anymore, but in an alley away from prying eyes.

hell, it feels like you can’t even breathe.

a calloused palm is slapped over your mouth so hard that you wince, lips getting pinched by your own teeth.

how fucking easy was that? why on earth would you have such a hefty number attached to you?

his free arm firmly wraps itself around your midsection, anchoring your back to his chest before he jerks your head toward his face, so he could get a look at you.

he experiences a sort of perverse pleasure in how your the relief in your eyes twists into utter mortification. fear. it’s a sight he’s used to, a sight that makes him feel like he’s on top of the world instead of six feet under.

you struggle against his iron grip, unable to move an inch. oh, how he enjoys the show. futile. pointless.

managing to be ever the charmer, even in a situation such as this one, he speaks. “heya, sweetheart. need you to be nice and quiet for me, yeah? otherwise m’gonna have to ruin those pretty little teeth of yours.”

words dripping with poison, he makes it clear that it’s not up for debate.

after he dishes out some more orders and pockets the dagger you’d been tucking in your waistband, he leads the way.

arm slung around your waist, pressing you into his side, he looks almost civil as he guides you toward the rendezvous point.

the throngs of people you stroll by don’t seem to notice how tense you are.

toji doesn’t need anything except for his bare strength to keep you in tow. walk too slowly or frown a little too much, and he’s quick to dig his fingers into your side until you’re hissing in pain.

“keep up, sweetheart.” he drawls, not even bothering to glance down at you. “no use in stallin’.”

your whispered questions and pleas go uncared for. “how much did they offer?” you ask, promising to pay more until he actually informs you of your price tag.

it shuts you up real quick, but after a second or two you try your best to reason with him.

another pinch to your side has you gritting your teeth, toji getting a bit annoyed with your constant yapping.

“sweetheart, sweetheart.” he laughs, thumb running over your side in a sickeningly smooth gesture. “s’nothin’ personal, but if you ain’t got cash, don’t fuckin’ bother.”

the rest of the walk is silent, the tension palpable. shadows stretch longer and longer as the sun sets. skyscrapers turn into warehouses and abandoned offices.

his scarred lip quirks upward into a pleased half-grin when he catches sight of the run down dump that was chosen as the exchange point.

brick walls, a ton of unused machinery and scraps of junk are all to see.

the clients shiu had told him about, a prim and proper looking woman and an equally high class presenting man, patiently standby.

they got some run of the mill goons with them, go figure, but it’s not like toji is threatened.

“here’s the gal.” he all but pushes you towards them, holding in an amused scoff when you almost trip over yourself.

your head hangs low, not wanting to meet eyes with anyone. now, more than ever, you feel like an insect about to be pinned down with needles and presented for all to see.

“there she is indeed.” the woman’s voice is thick like honey, each word out of her mouth spoken with a certain air that reeked of that noble clan bullshit that toji hated so much. “she’s a sneaky one… managed to get away from the past three degenerates we hired.”

her and the other client exchange glances, before gracefully barking out some orders to their respective guards.

toji doesn't bother to hide his yawn, his strong arms crossing as he watched this whole show go down with a barely perceivable interest.

he doesn’t care much for how some of the goons grab you by the arms, forcefully tugging you to a more open part of the building.

once he sees that metal suitcase, thick and shiny, he perks up like a kid on christmas. the clients take it, stepping forward to finalize the details of the exchange.

“we’ll have to keep you in mind for other jobs.” the businessman muses aloud, short and stocky and incredibly priggish.

toji shrugs, briefly wondering how far he could punt the guy. “s'long as the pay is this good, i don’t give a shit.”

the man seems almost offended by the sorcerer killer’s brutish behavior, while the women’s eyes flash with an interest that toji is all too familiar with.

for the hell of it, he shoots her a wink.

his eyes then focus on the suitcase, watching as a middle man counted the cash for him.

his trademark smirk doesn’t falter when he hears the familiar sound of flesh on flesh, a dull thump followed by a thick smack.

toji looks over just in time to see you fall to the ground, clutching your cheek. maybe you’re too prideful or stubborn, or maybe you’re just scared out of your damn mind, but you keep your head low, hiding yourself. 

the clients don’t seem the least bit fazed by the commotion going on behind them.

what the hell was the point of asking for you unharmed? he figures that they just wanted to do the damage themselves…

the assault doesn’t stop there.

a few of the guys are on you like vultures to a bloody carcass. steel-toe boots bruise your organs, harsh kicks forcing you to dry heave onto the cold concrete floor.

it’s impossible for you not to yelp, to gasp and hold your hands out in a bid to find any sort of reprieve, but it’s useless.

your fingers crack under the weight of a monster who harshly grinds his heel into them. the cry you let out is cut short when another kick is delivered to your cheek, whipping your head to the side.

toji watches, only because it’s a lot more entertaining than counting bills.

he’s used to this.

this is the kind of bullshit that happens in this twisted world. so what? his involvement with you stopped after the paycheck.

survival of the fittest. a dog eat dog world. he’d licked his own wounds all his life, long ago making a promise to keep his tongue to himself.

but still, that doesn’t mean he’s not curious.

hell, now that he thinks about it, you didn’t even put up a damn fight. you’re still not putting up a fight.

a whistle, low and drawn out, slithers it’s way past his lips as he watches one of the men grab you by the hair and slam your face into the thick concrete.

crack… crack… crack…

the floor is painted red, the vibrant splatters taking on morbidly beautiful patterns.

there’s no way you’re still conscious, he thinks.

your attempts to hide your face are useless as you’re forcibly yanked upward, blood soaked chin and lips and nose glistening under the bleak lights.

“damn.” toji chuckles, shaking his head and looking back at the clients. it looks like they’re just about finished tallying up the bills. “sweetheart must’ve done somethin’ pretty fucking bad.”

the man only scoffs, as if discussing the matter makes him sick to his stomach. “you have no idea.”

“it’s a shame, really.” the woman sighs, nonchalant as if she were discussing the fate of a common roach. “she was supposed to wield a cursed technique, but go figure, was born with about as much cursed energy as a newborn. a waste of an agreement between families-”

“a waste of life!” the man interjects, humming in satisfaction when he hears you choke on some blood. “her existence is a mistake! we don’t want that… that thing carrying our blood in her veins, so we’re disposing of her.”

toji’s fingers twitch at the revelation, suddenly wanting nothing more than to curl around the hilt of one of his blades.

“huh?” his expression shifts, unabashed cockiness morphing into something more or less deadpan. emerald irises dull around the edges.

there’s a sudden distaste towards these clients that he didn’t feel before. the air is a bit more bitter, a sour taste tainting his mouth.

he’s on edge, but bites his tongue for the sake of the pay that’s being put into his hand.

the parallels don’t go unnoticed. it’s almost funny, like some sort of twisted joke.

his tendency to set aside his emotions allows him to forcibly keep the tendrils of hostility and defensiveness at bay.

and there’s something else rattling between his ribs. a feeling that he especially hates.

it’s rooted deep, far beneath the coolness and confidence he usually wears. but damn, there’s a small shred of panic.

a memory or two flashes in his head. a pit of cursed spirits. a little boy wailing for help. blood, so much fucking blood.

he suppresses a shudder.

“just some run of the mill failure, huh?” he snickers, brushing off the sudden spark of emotion in order to keep a cool head. “sounds like she’s got some pretty shit luck.”

the man mumbles something in agreement, the woman laughing much too giddily at his words to be considered friendly.

he gets it now.

these two must’ve been from those families, the ones that had made an agreement in the hopes that a child would be born with both techniques.

his fingers twitch again when the woman smiles at the sight of you getting tossed around like a rag doll.

a part of him wants to see if the color of her blood matches that god awful shade of red on her lips.

meanwhile, you struggle to breathe. an unpleasant gurgle stays lodged in your throat, where all the blood makes it hard to inhale.

toji’s no knight in shining armor, probably more fit to play the troll under the bridge, but his mind is already churning, calculating a way to navigate through this whole… thing.

he’s just curious.

that’s what he tells himself. as a man who struggles to leave business unfinished, he traps himself in this whirlpool of what ifs that he usually stays far away from.

the handle of the metal suitcase feels heavy against his calloused palm. he runs a lazy hand through the black strands of his hair, which messily fall back into place.

“well, thank you for your services.” the first client speaks, nodding his head in toji’s direction.

giving him another once over, the woman continues. “we’re going to finish up this little-” she flicks a wrist in your direction. “-job elsewhere, so we can clean up the mess.”

one of the grunts grabs the back of your shirt, ready to drag you towards one of the exits. everyone moves, their departure imminent.

it’s a gamble. a huge fucking gamble, but hell, when has that stopped him before?

“hol’ up a sec, yeah?” he calls out, maintaining that lax demeanor of his as if he’s not itching for a fight. “say, what if i finish up the job f’ya? clean up, too.”

he gives his charming grin, eyes holding that inhuman level of cold detachment which makes some of the goons squirm.

“no extra charge.” he adds, though he kicks himself for a second, because why the hell would he pass up on some extra cash? anyway…

the clients exchange glances, confusion and wariness visible on their faces.

toji can’t say he blames them. it’s an odd offer, especially coming from a someone like him. yet, they have no reason to believe that he wouldn’t kill you.

they don’t see how your pasts mirror one another. they don’t see how the both of you are two peas in some fucked up pod.

after some hushed back and forth (which toji is able to easily pick up on), the two nod.

a quick snap of her fingers and the grunt holding you is quick to throw your limp to the ground. it’s one last hit, the thud echoing through the building.

toji's heart beats steadily in his chest, unbothered.

with a last thanks, the clients finally take their fucking leave. he waits until he can’t hear the sound of footsteps, before shaking his head and walking toward you.

he’s not hesitant. if anything, he’s already mentally chiding himself for doing this crap.

your breaths are shallow and, briefly, he questions if you’ll even live.

the raven haired assassin is almost surprised when you’re able to open your swollen eyes, glossy from the tears you’d inevitably shed during your beating.

perhaps it’s some gut feeling you have. or the bruised organs. instinct? or blood loss? somehow, you figure that he isn’t going to cause you any more harm.

your gaze focuses on him and your mouth opens. “thank you.”

his scarred lips, set in a thin line, pull downward at the edges. black eyebrows furrow in confusion and, oddly enough, discomfort.

he refuses to label it as guilt.

“fucking hell…” he mutters, setting the suitcase down and kneeling beside you. you were probably just concussed out of your damn mind.

his arms don’t hesitate to help you sit up, but damn, when was the last time he had to treat something so gently?

your pained groans and squirms have him clicking his tongue in annoyance, though it’s really just a sense of disconcertion that he isn’t sure how to deal with. “easy, sweetheart, easy…”

he keeps cursing at himself, gritting his teeth at this sudden development.

there’s still too much he wants to know, a nagging curiosity chipping away at his brain at the prospect of being acquainted with someone who knows what it’s like to be… well, him.

a failure. an outcast. an innocent soul, abused and tossed aside by so called family, all because of imperfect blood.

holding you up with one arm, he begrudgingly pulls out his burner phone and dials the only damn guy he can think of.

“shiu.” he all but huffs, actually comfortable with expressing his blatant frustration. “i need a fucking favor.”

on the other line, as the former detective listens to toji’s twisted tale, he can’t help but laugh. it’s a sound that has the sorcerer killer’s nose scrunching in annoyance.

“never thought i’d see the day…” shiu sighs, reassuring toji that he’d be there with a car and some med supplies.

when that’s all said and done, emerald eyes assess the extent of your injuries. he’s still skeptical, unsure if the two of you really are cut from the same cloth.

“well, aren’t we a perfect fucking pair.” he remarks sarcastically, his gaze hardening when you let out another pained whine.

with a shake of his head, he holds you a little closer and breathes out a resigned sigh. this was his choice, however stupid it might’ve been, so you’re his problem. “y’better be worth it, sweetheart…”

[carli-meows]

yo momma jokes are like trading cards to me,

like how yo momma is 2 timing between me and my homie

dont get mad and shit, listen, let me tell you somethin

how yo momma so fat eat the muffin man and aint leave nothin

what about yo dumb ass pops, the fuckers so stupid

thought he could print out the cover of a book & flip through it

ya fathers such a hypocritical penny pinching bitch

he scams the homeless on a homemade cardboard bench

you sisters the same, a fuckin gold digger

without a pickaxe and hardhat, just her nostrils and pinky finger

bitch is so shallow, if she was a puddle, sheesh, right?

im sayin at that point i could walk on her and be like jesus Christ

your brother too, he's so dumb he bought a beatbox

they sent him a crusty sock in a package, a brand new skeetbox

he's so stubborn, he demanded free food from a wishing well

and complained to the devil that it was too hot in hell

[mbilmey]

Okay look, not to continue to derail this post, but Im abouta rant bc this bothers me because let me tell you, I am the most stingy, penny-pinching person I know, and yet my main hobby outside of writing is SEWING.

Most of my dresses are home made at this point. I literally was walking through a mall the other day and saw a jean dress and it was teh first time in ages I wanted to try something on bc most things I can just make. Welp. I remembered I had three pairs of holy jeans at home.

I encourage everyone to learn to sew! It literally is "stich it in the front and back and it turns into a gown!" (Except you will do a lot of seem ripping over careless errors if you are me). No one really taught me dress making. You just do it. Watch youtube videos.

The most expensive part is the sewing machine, but the price hasn't changed in years and Micarah Tewers made most her stuff on a little $100 one. (I know bc I have the same from over 10 years ago, and its still kickin') And sewing by hand actually isn't that bad if you need ever cheeper

If you really want nice natural fabrics, yes that will cost you, but you don't have to be a domestic country goddess all at once! You know what else is sustainable??? Reduce! Reuse! Recycle! Thrift shops, yard sales (I got real linen for $1/yard at an estate sale), discount bins, old sheets, your own old clothes. My little cheep self has a closet FULL of fabric, and another FULL of clothes of which very very few were bought by me (and those many years ago). The only clothes I EVER spend more than $10 on are jeans. (My sewing machine cannot handle jean fabric and that is a tragedy).

Anyway, I mean to be encouraging. I also spend maybe too much time in the costuming community shocked at how stuffy they get about buying '"correct" fabrics and how "expensive" the hobby is.

I'm against fast fashion, that's not a surprise to anyone, but today its an example rather than the subject of a rant. The issue I actually want to talk about is the fact that I can't put up a fight against it. For example, I could learn to make my own clothes so as not to support the industry, but I can't sew. And not only do I not know how to sew, but I know from watching the people that do have that talent that it's expensive! There's just not really any sustainable alternative to the corporate option presented to us. And that's the kicker for me. I have been stripped of the ability to protest through my consumer choices, forced to feed a market swollen with things I do not want to support.

I usually think of myself as something of a punk, so I educated myself on a bit of our history. Anger, a sentiment that is sometimes justified, is a key theme in lots punks, but it often doesn't go anywhere. Its loud, its garish, and it just wants to drill home the knowledge that they. are. mad. The first generation of punks were pretty hopeless until more recently when the movement became more activist focus instead of strictly protest focused. As a Christian, I don't want to just be angry about fast fashion or pornography or political corruption. I want to be effective. I want make changes in my daily life and inspire others to do the same so that we can put pressure on institutions that need to change. But like I said about the fast fashion earlier, the means of pushing back isn't sustainable. I don't want to whine and complain while not doing anything about the problems I see, but when your arms are taken away, your voice is all you have left. So even if I can't stop supporting systems I don't like, I can still talk about them. My voice can be just as heavy as my music.

[twosroos]

meet the bradshaws

( bradley “rooster” bradshaw x fem reader )

authors notes: me?? writing an x reader? oh my god im lowkey freaking out, this is so out of my comfort zone I hope it’s okay D: !! it’s a bit short because I ran out of steam and I’m not used to x readers at ALL.

for this au Goose is paraplegic and uses a wheelchair or a rollator !!

main characters: nick “goose” bradshaw, carole bradshaw, bradley “rooster” bradshaw

tws: talks of injury, rollator/wheelchair use, self-doubt, a few sex jokes/references to sex and/or sexual actions but no “on page descriptions”

Despite Carole and Nick living in San Diego, you’d never actually met them face to face. And, despite Bradley promising you that his parents would love you, you felt absolutely terrified. Goose was regarded as one of the best RIOs Top Gun had seen-- according to Hondo and Warlock, so you thought it was natural to be terrified of the man. Okay, maybe it wasn’t, because you’d heard such nice things about him, but all you could think is that you’d somehow screw this up.

This was a huge deal for Bradley, who you’d only been dating for about a month now-- since the mission was over and your squadron was stationed somewhere away from his, so you could date without being reprimanded by the higher-ups. No fraternization was a pretty good rule, but damn hard to follow.

But as the weeks had winded down, Penny had called you about having a party at her house for the pilots and her family, since the medal ceremony and dinner would be the day after. You’d agreed, even after feeling all party and ceremony-ed out before you found out the Bradshaws were gonna be there.

You were totally, perfectly, normal and not absolutely dreading your meeting with them. Everything was normal, and fine, and no you were not about to cry over this stupid dinner. There was no reason to be so stupidly stressed!

To distract yourself from spiraling-- and to make sure you were on time, you slipped on a modest but very flattering baby blue floral sundress, one you knew Bradley adored and one that made you feel good. It hugged you perfectly, and was loose at exactly the right points, making you look like a runway model (as you boyfriend had said before trying to slip his hands under the skirt a few nights prior) You had chosen the bathroom as your getting ready area, Bradley taking the bedroom because really all he had to do after his shower was change.

You pinched the dresses fabric, unrolling it from where it had tucked in on itself when you’d slipped it on as there were three knocks place on the bathroom door. Once the skirt was settled and modest, you nodded to yourself.

“Come in, hon.” You called, leaning across the sink to put in these beautiful golden set stud diamond earrings Bradley had gotten you for your birthday only a few weeks back. As soon as Bradley could see you he wolf whistled, leaning next to you to kiss your cheek as he wrapped an arm around you lazily.

“You look amazing, baby.” He murmured against your skin, kissing your cheek again, then lower to your neck, and then your collarbone, and you laughed.

“Maybe later, Bradley.” You took one hand to gently place on his neck, pushing him back from leaving any stray love bites on your skin. He awed softly, jokingly pouting, before quickly pressing a happy chaste kiss to your lips as he slipped behind you, moving to his side of the double vanity in your bathroom. Newly renovated thanks to you.

“My mom is so excited.” He comments as he grabs some gel to put in his hair, you smile softly, watching as he styles himself for a moment before rummaging through your makeup bag to grab your lipstick from the counter. It was Bradley’s favorite shade, a dark pink color that complimented your skin beautifully.

“I’m more nervous than I thought I would be.” You sigh, leaning across the vanity again to apply your lipstick. It was just going to be a dinner at Penny’s house, with Maverick and the rest of the squadron to celebrate their successful mission. You shouldn’t have been as stressed as you were, it was stupid to be so stressed. But you felt seconds away from a breakdown.

It was getting harder to see through glassy eyes, and you had to quickly finish up your lipstick and blink away your tears forcibly. Though, you can't hide anything, because Bradley pauses when he sees your tense face and turns, wiping his hands off on a towel before gently grabbing your face,

“Hey, relax,” He murmurs, “I promise it’ll be okay. My mom can be a lot when she’s excited but she says and does everything with love. Every single day this week she’s been asking me if you’re coming and she’s-- according to my dad, atleast, been dying to meet you since I told them we were dating.”

“But what if something goes wrong?” You blink up at him, trying not to cry, “What if they hate me? Or think I don’t deserve you?” 

He frowns at your tears, leaning down to give you a soft kiss to attempt to cheer you up, it doesn’t work as well as he thought, “My mom already loves you, and I promise, If Maverick likes you, my dad will too, I promise.” 

You sigh, wringing your hands out, “okay, fine.”

“Yes.” He says, grinning as he adjusts your necklace so it lays flat on your neck, “It’s fine. Everything's a-okay.”

--

Bradley’s blue Bronco rumbled to a stop, the old engine clicking as Bradley turned the key and sat back for a moment. Then he turned to look at you with a soft, goofy, smile as he grabbed your hand off the shifter and kissed your knuckles. Something he always did after driving with you, or at any red light.

“Ready to meet the Bradshaws?” He asked, though it wasn’t really like you had a choice. He was clearly so excited, by the way his grin made his eyes crinkle fully, and he let out a giddy laugh.

“Yes, I’m ready.” you reply even though you very much aren’t ready to meet his parents. He grins even bigger somehow, giving you a quick kiss, before slipping out of his door. You lean down to collect your bags, your purse full of your swimsuits for later in the night after dinner, as he opens the door to let you out. As the door swings open, he hold out his hand and you gratefully take it as he helps you hop out of the Bronco and onto the street. As you look you can see Maverick’s bike parked behind Penny’s car with Phoenix’s Pontiac, Hangman’s truck, and Payback’s SUV all in a line parked behind an old Ford pickup. So, hopefully, everyone else was already here, nd it would help you alleviate any awkwardness.

Your stomach twists at the sound of loud laughter from the back deck you don’t recognize. It’s feminine, and not Phoenix’s low cackle, Amelia’s loud laugh, or Penny’s chuckle, meaning it has to be Carole. Plus, who else would have a laugh exactly like your boyfriend’s?

The only thing passing through your brain is how terrified you are, you don’t even notice Amelia waving from the side gate, announcing, “Rooster’s here with Y/n!”

Fucking Goddamnit.

Not a moment later, a blonde head of hair pops next to Eden and the woman is undoubtedly Bradley’s mother. She has the same green eyes, the same goofy loose smile, and even though you’d seen in pictures just how much Bradley physically looked like Nick, you could also not ignore the way he moved his face exactly like Carole. God, these parents had strong ass genetics.

“Oh! My baby!” She called and Bradley immediately flushed, making you want to start laughing, but your nerves held you tight in silence. You couldn’t even break out a smile as Bradley pulled you across Penny’s driveway towards his mother who waited patiently.

“Mom. We talked about this.” He says as you two walk up the sidewalk to the back gate where Carole stands, Amelia long gone and into the noise of the backyard and the house, which has its windows open, letting the late August breeze inside.

“I’m sorry!” She immediately says, “I just wanna meet the girl who makes you so happy! You talk about her all the time, Bradley!”

“Hi Mrs. Bradshaw.” You manage to say after a moment, “Sorry, I’m just a bit nervous.”

“Oh honey, you have no need to be so soft! I’m probably the loudest one here other than my own husband--,” she cuts herself off with a laugh and suddenly a wave of confidence washes over you since she didn’t immediately reject you, “Ugh, are you a hugger? I need a hug from you, you look so cute in that dress! Isn’t that the one you wore to that Squadron dinner a few days ago?”

“I am a hugger,” You laugh softly, stepping up to accept her tight hug as she beams, “And yes, I did wear this.”

As you step back she grabs your hands, scanning you up and down with a far-off smile, “God. I’m so glad Brad was able to find a girl like you, beautiful, smart... and so so kind! I’ve herd so much about you! I can’t-- ugh, I’m gonna cry.”

“Ma,” Bradley laughs awkwardly as he shifts behind you to grab your shoulders, “You’re getting overwhelming--”

“You flatter me.” You grin, immediately coming out of your shell at the compliments and trying to steer her away from breaking into tears because that would be worse, even if they are happy tears, “Bradley talks about you all the time. He says how much we act like you and your husband, from the singing to the loud flirting-” you laugh, “I’m so glad you like me, Mrs. Bradshaw.”

“Please, call my Carole honey.” She says, bringing you in for another hug (and grabbing Bradley by the sleeve of his Hawaiian shirt this time) as she squeezes the two of you in her arms with a loud laugh, “I’m just so excited to meet you, Y/n.”

“Yo, Roost!” Hangman leans over the deck railing, causing you all to look up, “Penny brought the piano outside for you!”

“Alright!” Rooster yells back to Hangman as the two fo you exchange greetings.

“Can we sing, Bradley?” You turn to look up at him and he laughs, squeezing your hand as he smiles down at you. When you look at him, you can feel the lovesick expression that crosses your face, and if Carole growing more excited by your ide tells you anything-- she sees it too.

“Of course, honey.” He grins, “But let’s talk to my dad first, yeah?”

“He’s right inside with Maverick, they’re making the steaks and stuff for tonight.” Carole waves you on, and the two of you walk up the small metal ramp Maverick had clearly put up over the decks stairs with some ratchet straps. Inside there’s a bit more hustle and bustle- Amelia’s beating Hangman in Wii Sports, Phoenix is helping Penny string up some lights, Payback is watching Hangman lose Wii Boxing with a grin on his face and a Tito’s cooler in his hand, while Fanboy and Coyote bet over some pool game with the rest of the crew. Bradley walks you in, Carole bee-lining for the kitchen before the two of you can make it there. Then, you hear loud laughter, before someone’s slowly walking their way out with a rollator in front of them.

“Bradley, Y/N!” the guy smiles and you instantly know its Nick based off that fact he looks exactly like Bradley- or, you guess, Bradley looks like him. And because you’ve seen his face in about a hundred pictures by now.

“Hey Dad, this is Y/N--” Bradley goes to introduce you before Nick’s crossed the room and gently pulled you into his arms. You happily accept the hug, letting him squeeze you a bit before he steps back and does the same look over assessment Carole had done.

“Wow. Brad really scored with you.” He comments as his legs start to shake a bit, “I’ve heard nothing but good things about you, hon, and I’m real glad you decided to come meet us.”

“Dad, your legs.” Bradley softly reprimands and his father scowls, clearly not liking the fact Bradley’s interrupting him. He’s so much like his son it makes you instantly smile.

Nick scrunches his face, “I’m having a moment, Brad.” 

“Nicholas.” Carole chimes, motioning to the seat of the rollator and he sighs, stepping back to sit down. You don’t hesitate moving with him, sitting him down on the rollator and making sure he’s secure before letting go and stepping back.

“Thank you, honey.” Nick said, flashing you a soft smile, before you’re able to respond, Amelia’s pulling you away to play Wii Sports, and you have to offer them a rushed goodbye as she tugs you, shouting, 

“You’re basically my sister now! Come on, Y/N!”

--

You see Carole again when everyone gets in the pool much, much later into the night. Amelia’s napping on the deck, Maverick and Penny sitting up there with her, and you and Phoenix took to personally taking off the cover of the hot tub connected to Penny’s pool and setting it up. As you guys rest in it, she tells you about her family coming up and enjoying their time in California, before you regale a story about Bradley crying over a Romcom. The two of you laugh, relaxing in the warm water, before Carole comes up.

“Mind if Nick and I join?” She asks and Phoenix beams, standing up as she says,

“Let me help you get him in.” 

You stand up as well, and Nick rolls over in his wheelchair. Once the electricity is turned off, Carole walks up next to him and helps him stand up so he can slowly slide into the hot tub. Once everyone has settled,  Phoenix says she’ll go grab everyone another round of beers from the fridge inside and slips out of the hot tub. In the downtime, you watch as Bradley tackles Hangman in the grass besides the pool as the rest of the squadron plays dogfight football, Coyote cheering them on as they rough house-- luckily this time it’s all for fun and not because Bradley and Jake actually fighting.

“He’s so happy.” Nick comments, “I thought he’d never smile that wide again after Mav and I pulled his papers... I still feel awful.”

“He doesn’t hate you for that, y’know?” You comment softly, turning to his parents in the water, “He’s still a bit mad about it, and probably will always be, but the initial sting is over.”

“Yeah.” Nick leans back, letting the water soak up to his neck, “I just wish I’d never had the accident in ‘86. If I hadn’t, he’d probably be a captain or something by now.”

Carole rubs his shoulder, “But look at it this way, he’s flourishing now?”

“He is.” you say and Nick shrugs halfheartedly before Bradley’s jogging over and leaning over the wall of the hot tub to steal a kiss from you before he says,

“The pianos out of tune, so we’re just gonna use karaoke. Feel free to sing along, okay hon?” He murmurs and you grin, stealing a chaste kiss from him.

“Of course, stud.” You whisper, and pretend not to hear Carole’s breath catch in her throat as you watch your boyfriends face redden. He clears his throat, splashes a bit of water at you jokingly, and then is taking off across the yard where you hear Penny asking for music suggestions. The first few are older songs-- Metallica, Bon Jovi, Def Leppard, then a few newer songs (where you find out Natasha has turned Jake into a Lizzo fan when she comes back with Michelob Ultras) before the song comes on.

And as the first few piano keys hit for Great Balls of Fire, you laugh and point to Bradley as Carole cheers. You realize one of the things BRadley had kept from you, his parents were also fans of the song the two of you sang together every time you went to the Hard Deck. So as Bradley lazily wraps his arms around you over the side of the hot tub, and you watch as his parents sing along you smile to yourself.

Yeah, you liked them. And you knew now, they liked you back.

[spaceagebachelorstan]

rtc headcannons because ive fallen deep into this musical

noel drinks from wine glasses and exclusively wine glasses

ocean has a fringe/bangs but doesnt know how to grow them out so she just pins them up with headbands

ricky has so many badges its a problem at this point. just buckets upon buckets of badges.

i am making them all autistic bcs im autistic and i need more autistic characters damnit

ocean has a special interest in politics and literary analysis

noel has a special interest in france, poetry media analysis

sometimes they discuss different films and books together and yes they get very heated over their wildly differing interpretations

ricky (obviously) has a special interest in space and cats, but also video games.

constance has a special interest in autism itself, flower language and art history

penny (be aware i have not seen legoland yet so take this with a pinch of salt) has a special interest in animals and mythology

mischa has a special interest in horror and rap, as well as linguistics

noel speaks pretty good french. he uses duolingo but he hates the notifications because they annoy him at the most random times

ricky uses all pronouns, no preference. and by all, i mean ALL. you could bring out the boink/boinkself pronouns and shed be chill with it

constance really likes hot chocolate with cinnamon and two shots of caramel in it

penny has mild heterochromia. one eye is green and the other is a darker green with a brown rim

ricky has an aac, but they all know at least basic sign language. theyre still learning

ocean stims by bouncing on her tiptoes. one time she fell over in the middle of a big speech because she tipped forward. she was fine but very embarrassed. noel was no help

noel's mother is from a french-speaking provenance/precinct (i think thats what theyre called)

mischa owns two hats, but flips them inside out so it looks like he owns more

noel has tried white wine. he doesnt want to admit it but he absolutely despises it

penny has textural issues with anything slimy. she tried a facemask once and almost broke the wall from slamming so far backwards into it.

mischa has talia's number memorised, but still keeps a litle slip of paper in his phone case with her number on it

ocean colour codes EVERYTHING. if even a single colour is out of place on anything she will spend ages trying to fix it

everything noel owns is very low contrast, and most of it is some variation of dark, desaturated reds and blues or monochrome

ricky owns a pair of purple cat ears

ocean isn't one for sweet things but adores chocolate oranges.

most of the time they all eat lunch together in the choir room

penny is a vegetarian bcs she doesnt like the texture of meat, ricky is a vegetarian because hes allergic to red meat

when ocean found out noel works at taco bell she spent a week going up to him at work just because. she still goes occasionally. noel dies inside a little bit more each time

noel actually managed to convince some other kid to day the second line in the nativity play. hes still proud of that one

mischa really likes rasberries

ricky loves to sleep in hammocks, but its a pain getting in and out of them so they dont do it often

noel's mother owns a lot of old french dvds which is how noel got into them

constance is very good at playing instruments, like harmonicas and flutes.

noel used to buy those fake sweet cigarettes all the time and pretend he actually smoked. he didnt like the flavour though. too chalky

mischa really likes palma violets.

penny doesn't watch movies often, but when she does she asks a lot of questions

noel really likes dramas, but he doesn't say so that often

for a bonding activity they all made bracelets for eachother, but none of them knew how. they picked who theyd make the bracelet for out of a hat. ocean researched before hand and made a nice flower chain for penny. penny made a green singlet with star beads for ricky. ricky made a red bracelet with "bad egg yt" on it for mischa. mischa made a purple and white bracelet for constance. constance made a black and red bracelet with a rose charm on it for noel. noel made an orange and blue bracelet with a shell charm and the word "lake" on it for ocean

penny wears hers and constantly fiddles with it. ocean keeps hers despite being annoyed by the word. mischa wears his often, but its slightly small so hes very careful to make sure it doesnt snap. noel keeps his on his bedside. ricky wrapped his around one of his crutches. constance wears hers often as well, and keeps it in a small box specifically for the bracelet.

noel stims by rubbing his fingers and fixing his collar

ricky has made an entire map of the solar system zolar is on. zey made it on a giant piece of a1 paper and hung it by his bed

ocean is scared of boats. the irony is not lost on anyone. however noel is also scared of boats, so he doenst make jokes

penny eats paper sometimes. not often, but often enough to concern the choir. she prefers plain and hates tissue paper

noel owns a large notebook for his favourite pieces of poetry/writing to be written in. it has a large design of roses and skulls on the front and is on a fancy textured cover. he keeps it in pristine condition and has shown exactly two people that it even exists. his mother and mischa

mischa sends noel song clips to review and noel sends him poetry snippets

constance and penny spend evenings at the cafe together, they do their homework there and they talk for hours once shes finished

penny and ocean are actually pretty close, those two and constance sit together in most lessons and convince the teacher to put them in a three for pair activities.

noel knows talia is real and they're actually friends. mischa is glad they get along and someone else believes shes real.

this led noel to learning some ukranian and talia learning some english to avoid the hells of google translate

ocean began learning french to spite noel but actually quite likes the language

constance really likes the count of monte cristo

mischa canmot finish books for the life of him. he begins reading, gets bored and remembers twelve weeks later he even knew of the book

there is a singular shitty library in uranium in st. cassians. its old and decrepit but the librarian is nice.

ocean volunteers after hours in the library on thursdays and fridays

ricky and penny watch animal documentaries together. they also spend a lot of timw with rickys cats. penny loves them

noel has tried that french whipped cream hot chocolate and loves it

ricky doesbt like throwing away her clothes so they sew the holes up with penny and ass little patches on them.

constance and penny read together and penny likes to help constance in the cafe with things like sweeping and clearing tables

mischa and ricky are bros. they watch sci fi together, and tend to watch a lot of scifi horror

noel and ocean hate eachother in the "you are genuinely so insufferable. i never want to talk to you, no, i dont even want to see you again. of course we're still on for saturday i'll meet you at ten, see you there" kind of way

penny dyed her hair blonde and noel dyes his hair black. his natural hair is a pretty dark brown but he likes his dark dark.

the choir hang out every saturday. they do things like hang at the cafe or go to the mall.

in an everyone survives au, none of them like cars that much after the rollercoaster

post canon penny hosts memorials and told talia about what happened. she was devastated, but penny felt she needed to know. she also managed to stop taco bell from making the hungry hombre meal

noel cannot stand fast food after working at taco bell because hes seen how its made.

noel is friends with a coworker, a woman in her late thirties who knew his mother briefly in highschool.

ocean cannot handle spice at all. she can barely hold her own against the lowest spice rating on a nandos menue

ricky talks to noel about zolar and all xeir ideas for it. noel is fascinated by just how detailed and extravagent it all it, so he ignores the sexy cat people

ricky convinced the rest of the choir to watch cats. there is now a mandatory background check before each movie on movie nights

ocean wears a lot of yellow and blue

because of oceans oarents, she has very limited internet access, so she normally uses a laptop her parents dont know about, courtesy of constance, at the cafe

constance writes fics on ao3. not often, but she does. shes pretty good at it ngl

noel's mother actually gave him the monique wig

when asked for a self portrait noel gives two- one of monique and one of him, often side by side

will probbaly do more later, maybe focused more on shipping and identity bcs i wanna make one on that

[jiminrings]

i just reread ll (after seeing that yoongi pic on twt..... loml) AND UGH IM SO MAD AT THAT FIGHT WHY DID HE SAY THAT AND OH MY GOD WHERE IS OC SLEEPING OMG DID SHE STAY THE NIGHT AT TAEHYUNGS (not like that ..... nasties 😑) WHATS GOING ON. WHAT IS JUNGKOOK GONNA DO WHEN YOONGI OR SEOKJIN FIND HIM WHAT IF YOONGI KILLS HIM OR SMTH

cold senior!y/n x stem major!koo masterlist :D

you leave jungkook alone in your dorm after a fight — but at the same time, he gets left alone with yoongi and jin, who still aren't sure what to think of him especially now

aka part two of the ll couple's first fight

"i think i'm gonna crash."

seokjin yawns and says out loud without the knowledge that he's speaking out loud, his hands fumbling for the dorm keys amongst the numerous keychains he has a knack for collecting

"you drank one cup of coffee, jin," yoongi snorts because as far as he recalls two hours ago, jin even made him drink his remaining coffee because he couldn't take any more

yeah well sCREW jin for trying to stay awake the whole day alright!!!! he made a roadtrip out of scouring each individual part he wanted to add to his fancy PC setup he's been saving a pretty penny for

he doesn't say it at all but yoongi carries immense happiness in tagging along with errands even if it serves him no purpose <3 sometimes he just likes being a keychain to his best friends and he's happy!!

"yeah, hot coffee — the worst," jin elaborates his dislike for hot coffee even if both you and yoongi heard it a hundred times before

he's noisily trying to find the right key and he's surprised you haven't woken up and just oPENED the door for them, but he's cluelessly and thoroughly entertaining yoongi aka the guy who hAS his own key yet refuses to use just so that he could see his friend suffering some more

at this point, your neighbors probably think you’re getting robbed but thankfully jin finally manages to put in the right key, a satisfactory sigh leaving him when it finally clicks and turns the right way

the dorm is dark and noT dim like what they’re used to, probably something to be blamed to the hellfire of rain that’s going on outside

jin’s carelessly removing his shoes by his own feet, only stopping when yoongi harshly pinches him on the side before he does it to himselF on the inside of his arm

“ow! what was-“

he soothes the sore spot on his side because yoongi can reallyyyyyy put his two fingers close without pinching and therefore make it hurt even more, eyes all around the place before it stops on a familiar figure

a familiar figure, sure. welcome? not exactly.

"huh. you're still here? are you staying the night?"

seokjin asks out loud to jungkook who’s standing by himself beside the couch with his hands bunched, worried eyes fixed on them

"where's y/n?"

yoongi asks and it’s made evident how the both of them have different intentions to acquire for, but they all boil down to you nonetheless

jungkook’s throat dries because it hasn’t even been an hour that he’s left alone in yoor dorm, not expecting it either that your two friends would come home this quick

"that's the thing,” he mumbles and yoongi picks it up first, slithering around jin to confirm if he’s really hearing jungkook

what does he mEAN that’s the thing???

"y/n left."

jungkook’s with the two of them now but oddly enough, he doesn’t feel cornered even if the two of them are positioned as if they’re trapping him

he feels more alone than he is cornered, fresh tears stinging at the back of his eyes that he doesn’t want to show yoongi nor jin

"what did you just say?" yoongi asks more in confusion than in disbelief, narrowing his eyes at your boyfriend

"why would she leave at this hour and at this weather? not to mention, leave you alone with us."

jin raises a valid point to put into everyone’s head how bizarre the situation is and not to spook jungkook out, but it sounds like the latter to him which is why he snorts at the startled look

"calm down, kid. we're not gonna rough you up if that's what you're thinking," he reminds him because they’re not tHAT unhinged when it comes to you, walking to the refrigerator to down the nearest water bottle, ".... not unless??"

he still carries a playful edge to him because as much as he’s worried about you, atleast one of the three of them in this room should be far from having a breakdown to level the others

yoongi’s not done with his questioning streak because he presses further, sitting at the couch in your exact seat that makes jungkook gulp

god it’s now just hitting him that you left

"why did she leave?"

"w-we fought."

there’s slight hesitance in his tone because he’s not exactly surE if he should be telling that he fought with you to your friends, but he sets aside the possible consequences because after all, it’s you that they’re conversing about

yoongi nods to himself, having a hunch that the both of you must’ve fought and when he looks up at him, he only belatedly realizes that your boyfriend’s now blonde

"what did you do?"

he goes straight for it, startling jungkook

he’s not necessarily offended that yoongi asked him what he did because if you ask him, this is really aLL his fault

"i-i'll get to that but uh shouldn't we look for y/n first?"

...

..... okay that was understandable

yoongi knows where he’s coming from, nodding to acknowledge him

"not the first time this happened," he admits quietly and that leaves jungkook speechless, watching him intently which is why it made sense that yoongi’s not out of his mind panicking just like he is, "y/n left the dorm when she and seokjin fought."

yoongi says it even quieter and jungkook gets why, because as low as his mumble went, seokjin still managed to hear it

it must’ve been a sore spot that jin doesn’t want to tell him all about, atleast right now, because he looks down to his feet as if he’s been burnt

"it was a serious fight, but it was long ago,” he mumbles under his breath and the reminder of their fight which he’s tried to bury in the back of his head throws him off his feet slightly, “she doesn't really leave when it's just a petty fight or something."

yoongi somberly smiles at jin as some sort of apology for bringing it up, not wanting to put salt on the wounds as he just redirects his attention to jungkook

"i'm asking you for the last time, jungkook — what did you do?"

there’s no direct pressure behind his words but the three of them know that it would drastically help if he just said so

there’s no moral compass that he tries to steer because he himself wants to tell yoongi and jin, even if it means having to put the little respect and love they have for him on the line

jungkook doesn’t sugarcoat and retells all the way from what happened with the hoseok situation until he finishes with what happened merely an hour ago, almost scared to look up at the both of them

jin humorlessly chuckles and shakes his head to himself, still perched against the kitchen counter

"low fucking blow, kid."

surprisingly, yoongi became the lenient one

jungkook’s head aches because the two of them switched attitudes in a matter of minutes!!!! jin is the one that sounds like he hates being in the same room as him and yoongi is the one that tolerates hin generally

he could oNLY assume that the retelling of the events must’ve hit jin one way or another, somehow connected to what the two of you fought about long ago

yoongi takes the liberty to speak after jin’s remark, nudging jungkook by the knee to sit beside him

"y/n's hurt, of course, because as much as she had flings and casual fucks and whatnot," he trails around but doesn’t look to jungkook who’s wide-eyed thy he’s even letting him sit beside him, “you're her first boyfriend."

...

....

...... what

“i am?”

jungkook asks in confusion and the regret creeps up to him not a second later, the ringing in his ears blocking out the rain and even jin’s announcement that he’ll call you

he nods and kook knows that he’s not only saying this to pull at his tail, simply because he’s aware that yoongi doesn’t joke around with him

with jin entering his room to call you, that leaves him alone with yoongi and it barely registers in his head that this is the first time it’s only the two of them after that time when he threatened to give him a knuckle sandwich and the sort

"was starting to entertain and like the idea of you in y/n's life — our lives, y'know?"

yoongi initiates conversation and kook gets startled even more, tripping over his words because he can’t grasp at the situation fully

"i'm sorry, yoongi. i-i really am."

"hate to say this but," he clicks the roof of his mouth with his tongue, fiddling with his bracelets, "i know you are."

???

jungkook’s confusion at your friend’s words is what distracts him from his remorse, not believing his ears

yoongi believes him??? he knOws that he actually feels sorry for having done what he did??

"y/n doesn't like being accused, i think no one really does," he starts off carefully, “it's not my story to tell but it's for you to understand that y/n, y'know...."

jungkook swallows the lump on his throat for whatever yoongi’s gonna say next, a furrow in his brow as he chooses his words

“she doesn't come from a past wherein assurance is at face value,” he clears his throat, "that's all i can tell you."

jungkook nods and he tries to contain his thoughts because he doesn’t want to assume. he’s only gonna take what you give and he’ll willingly wait for that time you tell him all about his past

he does have a clue about your family because he asked that one time if he’d be meeting your parents because you’re a senior and you’re graduating soon, but you only shaked your head no and said “yoongs and jin are enough” for your ceremony

yoongi feels sorry, but he’s not sure for who :(

all he knows is that his heart aches, even if it’s for the boy in front of him that he swore he’d hate, but is now unconsciously worming his way into his heart

he’s no stranger to what jungkook feels because he felt the same type of territoriality and the insecurity that came along with it — the one he used to have over you, in that platonic soulmate sense he didn’t realize at the time

"it's not my place to tell you either, but sooner or later, insecurity will consume you, jungkook."

the guy in question nods eagerly because yoongi manages to address the struggle he has in his mind, acknowledging the issue at-hand fully

"y/n can't baby you forever,” yoongi sighs, “but you can't be ditched whenever she feels like it either."

:O

did...

did yoongi just take his side.....

jungkook kNOWS in the back of his head that yoongi’s neutral, but it all just registers in his head that for the first time, yoongi’s on his side, even in a sense

"talk it out. just sleep in her room for the meantime. fix it in the morning,” he starts to gather himself to stand, pausing to look at jungkook in the eye, "i'd hate to see my soulmate hurting."

the thing is, jungkook knows that yoongi’s your soulmate :-)

you told him that once and as much as you explained that it was only platonic, jungkook quickly understood it, much to your surprise

he knows he doesn’t know the entirety of you, but he knows that when he looks at yoongi, he’s looking at you too :)

yoongi gives him the ghost of a smile, making jungkook blink twice

"sooner or later, the two of us need to talk."

jungkook’s contented with that, smiling back at him

"good night, yoongi."

"good night, jungkook."

( ♡ )

ok.,.,.

“don’t come home, it’s pouring. or go back to your dorm, whatever. i don’t care.”

okay you dO in fact care!!!

it’s been more or less two hours since you left the dorm and you know this because jungkook’s been texting you without fail, only stopping twenty minutes ago that makes you look at the time

it’s 11 o’clock :O

either he’s asleep like he usually would be at this time, or he walked home

in fact, you don’t even know if jungkook is still at your dorm

your phone rings all of a sudden that it makes you flinch, scrambling to see who it was and you don’t know if it’s disappointment or relief coating you when you saw that it was jin

"and where is my favorite girl at this time of the night?"

you could only chuckle as you share a glance with the person whose dorm you crashed in, sending an eager greeting with his mouth full

"i'm at taehyung's. we're eating brownies right now."

when you knocked on tae’s door just two hours ago, the only thing he greeted you with was with a towel!!

he didn’t ask why you’re practically soaked in front of his doorstep because for whatever it is, it must probably be in good reason

truth be told, you didn’t even knOw where you were supposed to go but then tae popped into your head as the only sane person you know that would let you in at this time of the night without prior notice

it was a simple “jungkook and i fought.” to which he only nodded to, turned on the tv for you, and started baking brownies

"mhmm. what kind?"

you chew on the chocolate fudge, slightly chuckling at what jin’s insinuating

"the kind that doesn't leave you disoriented."

he hums at that and you could picture him swiveling on his gaming chair he bought just a week ago, his phone tucked to his ear closely

"the same kind that makes you able enough to come home tonight?"

"yeah,” you breathlessly agree, fiddling with the matching bracelet you have with jungkook, “same kind."

you could only assume now that they've seen jungkook and he's still saying there, all alone but with them

your heart warms at the thought that indirectly, jin’s making you come home to reunite you with jungkook, knowing that there’s an impending conversation sooner or later

"want me to pick you up? you'll get a cold."

"i'll borrow tae's umbrella. i'll come home when we finish the brownies."

the both of you know that it’s code for you just wanting a little more time before you come back, and also because you really wanna dO finish the brownies that tae warmly made for yoy

"mkay," jin smiled at your response, "i'll lock the door but just send me a text and i'll open it for you."

"won't you be sleeping?"

"i'll stay up. i'm not sleepy."

jin replies just as quick, a complete 180 to what he said when he initially came home that he wanted to crash because of the hot coffee he drank

you wordlessly thank him and he acknowledges it, happy to atleast know that you heeded his concern for you to come home tonight

"get home safe. love you."

it’s not only minutes later than you thank taehyung immensely and promise to take him to the aquarium as your thanks, finding yourself in your dorm that seokjin ushers you into with a peck on your head

you rush to your room and you’re greeted with the airconditioning turned on, seeing a lump beneath your comforter that you automatically know it’s jungkook sleeping

you're still damp from the rain but you change quickly to the first set of clothes you can grab from your drawers, not wasting a second longer

you sneak into your own bed, the same one that’s carrying jungkook

his sleep hasn’t even been the deepest and the moment he feels a shuffle beside him, he’s woken up immediately

��i’m here.”

jungkook realizes it’s you with the way your voice is soft and the way you hold his arm when you climb into the covers, wordlessly embracing him from behind

"i'm sorry. it's all my fault,” he says sincerely as he turns his body so he could face you, caging you in with his arm

"i'm sorry i stormed out on you."

he feels you nuzzle to the crook of his neck and it calms him down, the familiar scent of you enough to make his eyes close without fear

it only hits you now that this is the first time the two of you cuddle, much less share a bed

"love you."

it’s barely audible but it leaves you nonetheless, not expecting a reply in return but you get one anyways from a sleepy yet overwhelmingly-content jungkook

"i love you the most."

.

.

.

as always, lmk what you think!! i love answering asks :D what do you want to see from the lunchbox lovers next? send them here <3

[5-pp-man]

ok i ended up finishing the game a while back (august 20th), I took my ds with me on our trip and played it (almost) every night for a week, then i ended up finishing the game when i got home. it took me 26 hours and 4 minutes to beat, way less than the guy who owned it before me (i could see the old save files. took him like 36 hours.)

i got rlly attached to Hyde and everyone in the game, even though i do still think Hyde's a massive prick. but at least he's kinda really funny abt it.

anyways. i managed to convince my brother and some friends to buy the sequel alongside me for my birthday :) it was very expensive so thats why all of us are pitching in. it's already arrived but i cant play it until i get it handed to me in october. so im lookin forward to that!!

i also plan on getting the other cing games at some point, put rn i have to be careful and start pinching some pennies.

Hehe lemme guess. Je-Kyle and Hyde?

[hermannsthumb]

Hermann preparing for date night with Newt by selecting where to eat solely by what he has a coupon for. Or, ya know, frugal connoisseur Hermann. <3 ksci

inspired by a convo re: the fact that ksci @k-sci-janitor likes to make fun of me for never letting a coupon go to waste even if it means walking like 2 miles in the cold to use it :/ like im gonna NOT get a free Baja blast. (there is one small little allusion to some M rated stuff towards the end in this)

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

It’s not a rare occurrence that Hermann will treat Newt to dinner when the mood of dining out strikes them, but the point is that he’s doing it in a way that’s supremely…shifty tonight. Well, maybe not shifty. Weird? For one thing, he didn’t tell Newt where they were going until they were already on the bus headed there, for another, it’s their sharing-a-lab-anniversary, which tradition dictates they evenly split a bill (even if the origins have more to do with both trying to show up the other and take advantage and order the most expensive shit on the menu). The weirdest thing is definitely that, when Hermann got up to pay the bill five minutes ago—a small, folded piece of paper clutched in his hand—he left his wallet laying next to his wine glass on the table.

Newt stirs his straw around in his cup of soda, clinking ice cubes against the sides, and squints at the wallet. Did Hermann bring cash to pay with? He could’ve stuck some in his pockets without Newt seeing, or his bank card, even, which would explain the forlorn wallet. Or maybe forgetting the wallet was totally an accident, and he’ll be back in a few seconds to pick it up and pay for real when he realizes. That’s probably it.

When Hermann comes back to their table, though, he doesn’t bother with his wallet—he takes his seat, picks up his wine glass, and tips it at Newt. “That was quite lovely, wasn’t it?”

Newt hums. “It was.”

“I quite liked the fish I got,” Hermann says.

“I loved my noodles,” Newt says. “We should try to copy the recipe back at the base.” He sets his straw delicately on the table. “How’d you pay without your wallet?”

“My wallet?” Hermann says. He makes a show of catching sight of the wallet, arches his eyebrows in mock surprise, and picks it up. Here we go. “Oh, goodness. Did I forget this? Well—it’s not as if I needed it…” He tucks it neatly into his inner jacket pocket.

“Hermann,” Newt says, rolling his eyes. “What’d you do, get a hundred-percent discount by reminding them we saved the world a few months ago?” Hermann shakes his head, and takes a long sip of his wine. “Did you write a check? Did you pretend we got food poisoning or something?” Hermann shakes his head again, and this time, his mouth begins to creep up into a smug smile. Newt remembers the piece of paper. “Dude. You got us a fucking Groupon. No wonder you were being so weird about what I was ordering!”

(“I think we ought to stick with the entrees labelled B, Newton,” Hermann had said, flipping a page forward in Newt’s menu. “They look—er—far better.”

“More expensive,” Newt had said.

“What’s it matter? I’m paying.” Hermann had pointed at the noodle dish Newt had ended up getting. “Look, I reckon you’d like that.”)

Hermann finally grins triumphantly. “I did—and saved us quite a decent from our ‘date night’ fund. Pity it didn’t extend to dessert, I suppose, but we could always find some ice cream at the commissary later.”

Newt can’t even pretend to be exasperated. The noodles rocked. And they would’ve rocked even more if he knew that Hermann was saving them a few bucks. “You’re such a weirdo,” Newt says, shaking his head, though he’s mirroring Hermann’s grin. “Is that why you picked this place?”

“Not entirely,” Hermann says. He takes a long, slow sip of his wine. “Mostly I picked it to make a point.”

“About?”

“About my being right.”

Newt sighs. Only Hermann would dredge up old arguments on Lab Anniversary Night. It wasn’t even an argument, really—all that happened was that Hermann asked Newt to hand him his glasses cleaning cloth from his parka, and it took Newt almost ten minutes because Hermann’s pockets were so jam-packed with a million little coupons for everything from granola bars (which they can get from the mess hall for free) to mouthwash (which Newt can snag from the commissary, also for free, whenever they need it) that he couldn’t find anything but. A majority of them were expired. Then Newt remarked on how Hermann was nuts, and Hermann remarked on how Newt didn’t understand the value of making smart financial decisions, and they went back and forth for a bit like that. This was a whole week ago, too. In terms of Newt and Hermann arguments, that’s more than ancient history. “Are we really talking about the fucking coupons now?” Newt says.

“Frugality pays off,” Hermann says, cryptically. “Now we really ought to head out. The forecast is calling for rain, and I don’t fancy getting caught in it.”

They get caught in the rain anyway. Newt invites himself over to Hermann’s bunk to dry off, because Hermann bought a space heater back when they were stationed in Russia, and it travelled with him here to aid through the long nights of overpowering A/C. Right now, it’s aiding Newt through stripping out of his wet clothes. When he’s down to just his boxers, he snags the quilt from Hermann’s bed, and waits for him to finish up in his little en suite bathroom to hopefully catch a hot shower. One of the unexpected side effects of the world not ending and most nonessential personnel leaving the ‘dome in doves is that they almost never run out of hot water anymore. Newt can take a shower at midnight and not freeze his ass off. It’s awesome, really.

Hermann emerges from the bathroom in a dorky little pair of pajamas, a dressing gown knotted at his waist. “Oh, Newton,” he sighs, and prods at Newt’s blanket cocoon with his cane, “not my grandmother’s quilt.”

“I’m dry!” Newt says. “Mostly!”

He gives up the quilt to Hermann and ducks into the bathroom to brush his teeth. He stuck a spare toothbrush in the medicine cabinet at some point, for when he was too sleepy and lazy after makeout sessions to go back to his bunk, and sure enough he finds it alongside a suspiciously generic-looking tube of toothpaste. It doesn’t even have a label. He doesn’t think much of it until he starts to use it, which is when he immediately gags and begins to rinse his mouth out with hot water. “What the hell is this toothpaste?” he chokes out. “It tastes—awful.”

“Ah,” Hermann says. He ducks his head into the bathroom, looking a bit sheepish. “Well. I found a coupon for that brand, and I know it’s not very, er, pleasant, but—I saved forty percent, Newton.” Newt continues to rinse his mouth out, this time adding some mouthwash into the mix. “Oh, really, now you’re just being dramatic. It’s only toothpaste.”

“Dude,” Newt says. “I feel like I just rubbed, like, acid cement all over my gums.”

“Ah,” Hermann repeats, guiltily.

A bit later, Newt goes in to kiss Hermann goodnight as they settle into Hermann’s bed together, but pulls back with a sad little pout when Hermann merely flinches away from him. “Oh, Newton, I’m sorry,” Hermann says, quickly wrapping his arms around Newt and kissing his neck. It softens the blow somewhat. “It’s that bloody toothpaste. You still smell like it. You’re right, it’s rubbish.”

“Tell you what,” Newt says, grumpily. “I’ll buy you a brand new tube tomorrow. My treat.”

Newt mostly forgets about the coupon thing for a bit. The odd little item crops up in the lab that makes him roll his eyes fondly at Hermann, but nothing as major as the Groupon or toothpaste. Hermann’s preferred tea brand swapped out for something Newt’s never heard of in a flavor that Hermann clearly detests, if his face when he drinks it is anything to go by, for example, the chocolate digestives Hermann keeps in his desk replaced with plain ones, his new box of chalk all in a salmony shade of pink and weak enough to snap apart under his fingers if he presses down too hard on his chalkboard. When Newt asks about the changes, the answer’s always the same: Hermann had a coupon for them, or they were less expensive than his usual. Newt just wishes he could understand where this sudden bought of thriftiness came from. It’s not like it was back during the war, where they had to pinch pennies and save in every area they could if they wanted to supplement their nonexistent funding. They’re actually getting paychecks now, on behalf of the UN’s guilty conscience! They have free room and board! They even put a few neat bucks away from some (heavily-redacted) interviews they did back in late January.

What Newt’s getting at is Hermann doesn’t have to limit them ordering out sushi to only places with free delivery on date nights, or skimp on his pizza toppings (four-topping down to two) so they can use a better coupon, or buy any of those subpar teabags or digestives or toothpaste tubes. But he just…is.

The tipping point occurs on a Saturday night about a month after the Groupon incident.

“Nn. Hermann. Do that again.”

“Do—?"

“Yeah.” Newt groans, turning his head to the side. “Oh, shit.”

“Newton—” Hermann kisses his throat. “Newton, you’re—”

“Wait.” Newt pauses. “What is that?”

“Oh, er.” Hermann pulls his hand away. “You mean the—the—?”

“Yeah. It feels…weird.” He frowns. “That is not what we used last time.”

“Oh. No. It isn’t.” Hermann clears his throat. “Well, Newton—see—we were out, so I thought I’d—I’d buy a larger bottle, to last us longer, and I happened to find a coupon for this lovely—er—gallon-sized—”

“You’re kidding,” Newt says.

“Only I thought it was a very frugal purchase,” Hermann says. “We do tend to, er, burn through it rather quickly.”

Newt rolls away from him. “Dude. We need to have a talk.”

Some brief amount of time later, they sit together on the end of Hermann’s bed, clad in their pajama bottoms and, in Hermann’s case, one of Newt’s sweatshirts. Newt waits until Hermann meets his eyes blushingly before he proceeds. “What is up with you lately?” he says. “You’ve been acting so—weird. Weirder than usual,” he amends. “Since when have you cared about saving a couple bucks on random shit like pizza?”

Hermann fidgets, and sighs, and finally reaches to pull open the drawer of his nightstand. He retrieves a piece of paper folded into quadrants, and for a wild moment Newt thinks it might be another Groupon. “Oh, I wanted it to be a surprise,” Hermann says. “I was going to wait until it was all finalized—but it’s close enough now, so I suppose there’s no harm in it.” He thrusts the paper out at Newt, and Newt—still wondering if it’s not another Groupon—unfolds it with surprise to find what looks like a flight itinerary. Two tickets for Hong Kong to Boston, with a short layover; then two more tickets a week after they land for a short trip from Boston to some town in Maine Newt recognizes as being seaside. They’re made out to Hermann Gottlieb and Newton Geiszler and purchased a little over a week ago.

“You kept telling me you wanted me to meet your father,” Hermann says, and rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “And—I thought it might be nice, to have an—er—vacation, for a few days. We’ve certainly earned one. And it’s not as if we have any truly pressing obligations at the moment that can’t be put on hold for a week or two. I was planning on booking us a little cottage up in Maine—or maybe just a hotel room, I hadn’t decided—but we don’t have to if you don’t—”

“And you’ve been saving up for it?” Newt interrupts.

“For a few months now,” Hermann says. “Since February, in fact.”

“And that’s why…?”

The tips of Hermann’s ears turn red. “Every penny helped,” he says.

Newt carefully re-folds the itinerary, sets it aside, and then kisses Hermann soundly. It would be safe to say that Hermann’s thoughtful, romantic moods tend to be on the spontaneous side, probably as spontaneous as they are in Newt, so when one strikes Hermann (and in such a perfectly Hermann way as this one) Newt doesn’t like to take it for granted. “Of course I wanna go on vacation with you,” Newt says. “You rock. Seriously.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Hermann says, looking pleased.

[lannisterdaddyissues]

and also game of thrones! obviously

GOD you validate me SO MUCH.... and FOR WHAT? WHAT HAVE I DONE TO DESERVE THIS i love you

the first character i ever fell in love with: oddly enough, tyrion! i knew from the moment i saw him that he was my poor little meow meow and i was going to love him like nobody else

a character that i used to love/like, but now do not: ooooh boy this is The show for suddenly hating characters you used to like. uhhh basically the entire cast of s8 but specifically jon and bran bc they're boring now, also arya bc she's got this not like other girls complex that just doesn't suit her at all

a ship that i used to love/like, but now do not: mmmm idk? there werent really any that i stopped liking at a certain point in the series. i guess tyrion/shae once she showed her true colors and ratted him out at the execution (AND FUCKED HIS DAD LMAO WHAT)

my ultimate favorite character™: the lannister bros are ONE CHARACTER, they're like a covalent bond in that they share each other's brain cells. so i submit that i love the lannister bros, jaime and tyrion. i would do anything for them.

prettiest character: tough contest between dany and margaery but you know what? margaery wins. she is lust personified, but not in an overly sexy way just in a super beautiful and flawless way

my most hated character: *POINTS VICIOUSLY* LITTLEFINGER AAAAAAA i love him but in a hateful way. i love him because i hate him so much.

my OTP: oh my god bitch i have so many. braime, sanrion, jonerys, jaime/bronn (LISTEN)... got has good ships actually

my NOTP: jaime/cersei ewwwww. also stannis/melisandre was just so... i cant even. i cant. and then joffrey/sansa, ramsay/sansa, ugh... got also has bad ships actually

favorite episode: probably a tie between 3x07 and 4x06. bear pit scene my beloved, but also tyrion's vicious speech during his execution trial was just the most straight savage thing i've ever seen and i rewatch it all the time for #girlbosspower

saddest death: hodor. even months later, whenever i think of that scene my throat closes up and i have no words. there are no words to describe his death. most tragic thing i've ever seen

favorite season: season 3 (affectionate, respectful)

least favorite season: season 8 (derogatory)

character that everyone else in the fandom loves, but i hate: stannis??? hes a stinky old man whos cheating on his wife and also he burned his daughter at the stake, i rlly dont know why ppl are into him. also hes balding that's kinda lame ngl

my ‘you’re piece of trash, but you’re still a fave’ fave: *sigh* jaime fookin lannister-- WAIT ACTUALLY BRONN TOO. bronn's a penny pinching piece of shit but he is my penny pinching piece of shit

my ‘beautiful cinnamon roll who deserves better than this’ fave: tommen never did anything wrong ever and did not deserve the fate he met. dont ask why i love him so much i just got attached ok

my ‘this ship is wrong, nasty, and makes me want to cleanse my soul, but i still love it’ ship: i.... i love jorah/dany im sorry.... i shipped them so bad im so nasty and sick please admit me to the mental hospital.,,,,

my ‘they’re kind of cute, and i lowkey ship them, but i’m not too invested’ ship: gendrya, nedcat, sansaery!! they are super cute!

[blacklinguist]

(1/2) My favorite dictionary is definitely Diccionario del español actual directed by Manuel Seco, it puts a great effort into expresiones/locuciones verbales, points out the frequency and regions where the words are used and it's the only dictionary I know that takes examples from real texts. But it doesn't give much etymological information, in case that's something important for you. The GDLE packs a lot of linguistic information, especially when it comes to plurisignification and context,

(2/2) but I have my issues with it since its "americanisms" section does a very poor job when it comes to geography, ya feel me? DRAE is obviously good but it is mostly a student's dictionary. Can't comment on María Moliner's DUE since I never got my hands on an edition, but it seems amazing. Hard to tell not knowing your priorities. Sorry for the long answer

ahhh thank you!!

right now im just working off ‘standard’ stuff since i’m not sure which direction i want to go w regionalisms ? i have zero guidance for spanish bc im C1 if i hold my breath and B2 if i actually try so ....it’s the weirdest limbo lol. im going to note all of these, because i do want to have a solid physical collection (once i am not pinching every penny), thank you so much for a break down of these !!