#pretty sure i just bullshited my way through chem today though

[catastrxblues]

first week of finals is finally OVER. i still have four more next week, but at least i now have a short reprieve to read and write as i please ajskldgf

[eternally-writing]

chain reaction 02 | jjk

genre: fluff and angst 

rating: PG 

pairing: Jungkook x reader

theme: college!au , enemies to lovers, series 

word count: 4.6k

warnings: light swearing

synopsis: A semester with your mortal enemy, Jeon Jungkook, as your lab partner was bound to be an experience to remember. 

banner by me!

read part 1 here! 

 If you want to be tagged in future parts, send me an ask! 

--♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡--

When you had imagined what Jeon Jungkook’s apartment would look like, you had definitely thought it would look something like an evil lair (except messy, because Jungkook definitely struck you as the messy type). 

However, upon stepping into his surprisingly well-finished apartment, you found the exact opposite case. Before this, you had planned to make a ton of jokes based on whatever you would find in Jungkook’s apartment. And the truth was, you still could. 

Jeon Jungkook was an absolute neat freak. You watched the way he subtly shuddered as a fleck of dirt from your shoes travelled off of his doormat and you took note of how his kitchen counter was so clean you could probably eat directly off of it (which was especially rare from someone in college). If he had a roommate, there was no trace of him right now, as the apartment pretty much looked like a showhome.

“I didn’t know you were such a clean freak, Jeon,” you said with a smirk.

For the first time, you saw Jeon Jungkook look the slightest bit timid. 

“I like to keep things tidy, I guess,” he said while rubbing the back of his neck with his right hand. 

He gestured for you to enter his quaint but somehow spacious living room as he sped to the kitchen to grab you a glass of water (he may not like you, but he’d be damned by his mother if she found out he let a guest into his place without giving them a beverage).

You had a very clear game plan when it came to entering Jeon Jungkook’s apartment: Enter. Talk about the project (and nothing else). Grab the chemistry notes from the class you missed on Monday. Leave. 

It definitely seemed like an easy peasy 4 step plan  -  except that all seemed to flow out the window once you saw the photo Jungkook kept on his coffee table. From what you could decipher, it looked like a high school aged Jungkook in a music studio, right in front of the mic, with some of his friends around him. You had never seen Jungkook smile as big as he was in that picture, and it even managed to pull at your heartstrings.

Before you could open your mouth to ask about it, Jungkook had already come over to you and slammed the picture to be face down on the table, leaving smiley high school Jungkook out of sight. 

“An invitation into my apartment isn’t an invitation into my private life, Y/N. Don’t get it twisted.” he said coldly, dropping the glass of water hashly onto a coaster by the picture frame. 

To be fair, you kind of deserved that (and looking into Jungkook’s personal life definitely wasn’t part of your 4 step plan to seeing him today), but he didn’t have to be that mean.  As a peace offering you moved as far away from the photo frame as you could.

“Let’s just get this over with, Jeon. I have a pilates class in an hour on the other side of campus.”

Now Jungkook couldn't pass up that opportunity to make a joke. 

“Pilates, mmm.”  He let out an overexaggerated moan to make his point. 

“ Think you can slip my number to the hot girls there Y/N,” said Jungkook with a smirk. 

“In your dreams Jeon. You’re lucky if any girls will still want your number if you fail organic chemistry, which is what you’re going to do if we don’t work on this project.”

“I think you’re forgetting Y/N.” he said as he bent down, bringing his lips to your ear - “if I go down I’m taking you with me sunshine”. 

Ignoring how his close proximity to you was making your heart race (it was probably due to anger, right??), you jumped away from him and pulled out your macbook.

“Our group contract is due tomorrow so let’s just finish that up and then I’ll be out of your hair okay?” you said with an air of desperation and potentially sexual frustration.

For the most part, you and Jungkook worked in silence besides the occasional sound of you typing or clearing your throat. Looking at the live google doc in front of you and the progress you both were making, you were starting to think that working with Jungkook might not be the worst thing in the world. 

Jeon Jungkook and Y/N L/N : CHEM 251 LAB PRESENTATION CONTRACT

Topic - Green Chemistry 

1. Answer all communication from your partner (emails, messages) within 24 hours

2. Complete all portions of assignments at least 1 day before it is due. 

3. Any changes to your availability should be communicated to your partner. 

4. Y/N will handle the background literature and introduction of the presentation. 

5. Jungkook will look for future applications of Green Chemistry and direct applications of course material in the field of Green Chemistry. 

6. Don’t fall in love with your partner. 

As soon as you saw Jungkook type the last point on the document, you glared at him beside you on the couch. 

“Seriously Jeon? I forgot you have the mindset of a 13 year old boy,” you muttered as he looked at you cockily. 

You took a deep breath as your internal monologue started to run: 

Okay, Y/N. you’re not here to let Jeon Jungkook mess with you. 3 strikes and you’re out of here - there’s no reason to need to keep up with his bullshit (especially since at least the first part of your project was over).

Jungkook had then had to add more rules to your group contract. 

7. Y/N will give out Jungkook’s number to any hot girl at her pilates class. 

You groaned and hastily deleted off the document. 

That was strike 1 for Jungkook. 3 strikes and he’s out. 

Jungkook was still relentless in his attacks. 

“Seriously though Y/N, do you really not think I’m attractive at all? You really don’t want a piece of this?,” he said as he wiggled his eyebrows and gestured to his body all too suggestively. 

“Cut it out Jeon, I’m not dealing with your shit today,” you hissed, your eyes shooting metaphorical lasers into Jungkook. 

Strike 2: He’s getting close. 

“C’mon Y/N, what’s the chance that you’ll ever be able to bag someone as hot as me. I mean, look at me and look at you!”

Strike 3: you were DONE  with Jeon Jungkook today.

Not even stopping to put on your shoes fully, you took one last glance back at him before you walked out the door. 

“Fuck you, Jeon Jungkook.”

The glass of water he got you sat untouched on his coffee table, drops of water spilling onto the photo frame beside it due to his apartment shaking from you slamming his door.

Mirroring the new droplets on his coffee table, you found tears starting to drop across your face as well. 

--♡--

Even though you loved your chemistry lecture, you’re not sure why chemistry labs had such a bad vibe to you. The most obvious explanation for this would be having Jeon Jungkook as a lab partner (especially after your last meeting, the situation speaks for itself). But what could be is probably at least part of the reason is because of what happened in your first year 8AM chem lab. After getting through a grueling 3 hour titration (that you messed up and got no results for in the end), you walked back to your dorm to find your (now ex) boyfriend Jimin in bed with your roommate, Soomi. 

Needless to stay you left that day with one less friend, no boyfriend (and you had also gotten 16/30 on that lab… yikes), so chemistry labs did leave a little bit of a bad taste in your mouth. 

It had been months since that incident, but even after getting a new lease and cutting any ties you remotely had to Jimin, you still carried the insecurity that Jimin instilled in you by cheating on you with someone who you thought of as a sister. 

You had yet to run into Jimin against post-breakup, and had managed to successfully avoid him, until now.

“Y/N?” 

You knew that voice all too well. Turning around, you were met with the sight of your ex, Jimin. As if that wasn’t bad enough, as you looked him over you noticed your old roommate, Soomi, hanging off of his arm. You had no clue that they were still together (you had lost all contact with anyone remotely related to Jimin), and somehow seeing them together hurt you even more. 

Jimin looked even prettier than you had last remembered him; his prince-like hair shone in the afternoon sun, his charming smile seemed even brighter. Knowing Jimin was still with Soomi made you feel that he didn’t even feel a pang of regret for cheating on you, like he didn’t need to take some time by himself to reflect (like you definitely did) or stop to grieve your relationship. From your point of view, it seemed like you never even mattered to Jimin. 

You suddenly felt self conscious of everything under the judgmental gazes of Jimin and Soomi. Those baby hairs that you didn’t bother to pin down with a bobby pin this morning now felt like they were sticking straight out of your head and the pimple that was poking through your concealer on your forehead suddenly felt like a volcano. In your mind, compared to Soomi, you looked like a hot mess.

Your brain was on autopilot for all the small-talk you made with the two of them, and you didn’t snap out of your trance until you heard these words from Jimin. 

“I only wish the best for you Y/N”

You internally scoffed at this statement. Who the fuck was Park Jimin to say that he “wishes the best for you”. You took months to get over him and the hurtful words he said to you. Every mean comment and snarky comparisons he made to you felt like it was tattooed onto your skin and stuck with you forever. But now he was standing in front of you like nothing was wrong?

In a different world, you probably would’ve slapped Jimin across the face. But instead you rose above like your mom taught you to. 

“You as well Jimin.” you said courtly with a nod, trying to stop the tears that were pricking at your eyes from escaping your tear ducts. 

After receiving a small nod from Jimin as a response, you turned around as if you had somewhere to be (in reality, you didn’t have class for another 2 hours).

Getting as far away from Jimin was all you could think about at the moment, and you moved as far as your legs could take you in whatever direction you thought would take you out of your college’s quad, even as the tears falling from your eyes blurred your vision.

You didn’t know how to feel. You had imagined what seeing Jimin for the first time after the break up would look like; maybe he would grovel at his knees and beg to have you back (it’s not that you wanted to date him again or that you had feelings for him, but it would feel nice to feel wanted), maybe you would just throw a drink in his face and walk away like a bad bitch, maybe you could’ve flashed a new boyfriend in front of his face. 

All of a sudden your phone started to ring.  Your first fear (and somewhat hope) was that it would be Jimin calling you, but little did you know that it was something so much worse.

Incoming Call: Jeon Boy 

“as if this day couldn’t get any worse,” you thought to yourself as you pressed decline. You had yet to talk to Jungkook since that day at his apartment (you didn’t even call to congratulate him on his 

Incoming Call: Jeon Boy 

You groaned and hit the decline but at the speed of lightning again.

Incoming Call: Jeon Boy

Seriously, could this guy not take a hint? You were tempted to turn your phone off all together, but settled for hitting the decline button again.

Incoming Call: Jeon Boy

You realized that for whatever reason, Jungkook was not giving up, so you either had to answer him or listen to your ringtone of “Love Killa” by Monday X play every 10 seconds. Praying that your voice wouldn’t betray you, you took a deep (albeit shaky) breath and tried your best to wipe your tears before clicking “answer”.

“Look Jeon, I’m - uh - sorry but I really can’t do this right now okay? I’ll call you later.” you choked out, your voice obviously wavering as you tried to be as professional as possible. 

Before you could press the “end call button” you heard Jungkook’s concerned voice through the speakers.

“Y/N, wait, you don’t sound too good. Are you okay?”

Ah yes, “are you okay” - probably the most loaded question a person could ever ask. 

You probably could’ve kept it together if he had asked any other question, but his “are you ok” truly pulled at your heartstrings.

You felt your chest tightening but you tried your best to help the feeling subside. You had yet to show weakness about how Jimin had affected you to anyone, and you sure as hell weren’t going to start with Jeon Jungkook. Clutching at your chest and taking a few deep breaths in an effort to calm your racing heart, you continued on. 

“Is that genuine concern I’m hearing from you Jeon? Be careful, you’re losing your bad boy persona,” you said as you tried to make a joke to distract him. 

“Y/N, no. I’m serious. are. you. okay.”

You couldn’t handle it anymore. Sobs broke free from your chest and you heaved into the phone, your whimpers and whines striking Jungkook on the other side of the phone. 

“I, I can’t- I just-“

The words barely broke through your sobs. Your chest was tightening and you could barely hear Jungkook through the ringing in your ears. 

“Y/N where are you, I’m coming’” said Jungkook. You could hear the jingling of his car keys and the rustling of him putting on shoes. 

As if mother nature felt your pain, the rain started pouring down on you at the same time.

You barely got out any more words to Jungkook,  but he didn’t hang up on you. He just kept whispering comforting phrases, trying to calm you down from afar as you could hear his car engine roaring in the background (in another world, you definitely would’ve yelled at him for using his phone while driving). You barely even registered that Jungkook was there at all. Every memory of you and Jimin seemed to reopen like a fresh wound, and you couldn’t feel anything except the pain. All you could do was sit on a random curb by the edge of campus, your wails probably reaching the sorority houses nearby. 

You felt broken. The sound of the thunder overhead mixed with your cries as the rain pelted you, soaking your thin sweatshirt. You don’t know how much time passed there. In your head, it felt like time was frozen, while for Jungkook it felt like he was wasting hours zooming through campus (he truly was zooming - a month later he found out that he had accumulated 3 speeding tickets trying to find you, but he would never tell you that).

“Oh, sunshine,” he murmured, voice laced with pity and concern as he pulled over his car on the curb in front of you. 

You and Jungkook hadn’t even said a word to each other since the feud at his apartment, and you had absolutely zero clue how he even managed to figure out where you were through your jumbled phone call. But all you knew is that right now you needed him. You needed someone to give you a bit of comfort, and Jungkook was somehow here to do that for you. Despite everything between you twom you couldn’t hide the feeling of relief that ran through your body as you looked up and saw Jungkook in front of you.

Coming to your side, Jungkook crouched beside you. 

“Jungkook”, you wept as he pulled you into his chest. It was probably one of the first times you had actually addressed him by his first name, which came as a surprise to him. 

Holding you closer, Jungkook couldn’t help but feel protective over you. He couldn’t help but hurt with you as he saw your fragile figure shaking in his arms. 

“You’re gonna be okay now Y/N, okay? I’m here. I’m here for you. I’m not going anywhere.”  

And in that moment, on a dirty curbside off campus, you weren’t Jeon boy and little miss sunshine,  mortal enemies and chemistry lab partners. Instead, you were just Jeon Jungkook and Y/N., and nothing else seemed to matter at the moment.

--♡--

To your surprise (and the surprise of anyone else who knows you), you and Jungkook had not been stepping on each other’s toes as much. What had started out as extreme, extreme dislike had turned into a mild dislike (maybe even a very slight enjoyment of his presence, although you weren't about to admit that anytime soon). And of course, you both refuse to acknowledge the “Jimin incident” that had occurred a week ago and you both refuse to believe that it may have had something to do with you and Jungkook not hating each other. Your emails stopped being signed off with “do your part Jeon, or else” and instead now usually started with “Hey Jeon!” and “Thanks, Y/N”

That brought you here, in your apartment on a Friday night, eating old pizza in an old sweatshirt, no bra, and some comfy shorts that had definitely been through the wash one too many times. Researching for your chemistry project, you chuckled at how much of a londer you would look to an outsider. Sending off the articles you found on Green Chemistry to Jungkook, you closed out the email with some casual pleasantries and then turned to continue rewatching episodes of your favourite kdrama. You definitely weren’t expecting a response from Jungkook until Monday. You were sure that someone like him was at a frat party (was he even in a frat? You had no idea). Either way, Jungkook probably was lounging around in some party house with like 6 girls on his arms, while you were doing quite the opposite. 

Surprisingly, Jungkook was actually doing quite a similar thing to you. Instead of watching kdramas, he was watching Iron Man (for what was probably the 50th time), and was huddled under a makeship blanket fort like a child and scrolling through reddit. Don’t be mistaken though, Jeon Jungkook was definitely a partier, but he also knew when he needed to give his head (and liver) a break.

He saw his phone chime with a gmail notification. He took a brief scroll through the articles you had sent over to him (those were definitely work for another day since there was no way he could digest academic jargon without at least 3 cups of coffee in him), but he was pleasantly surprised with what you had come up with. 

At the same time, the Facebook tab he had open on his Macbook also lit up. 

It’s Y/N L/N’s birthday today! Leave a message on her wall to celebrate!

Jungkook’s jaw dropped. 

It was your birthday and you were sending him chemistry research papers?? Jungkook chuckled because he could already think of 1000 bad jokes to make fun of you, but he also felt some other feeling that he couldn’t quite place.  

Jungkook’s mother had always taught him that it was important to celebrate birthdays, and that is was bad luck that it was  He wasn’t sure if it was just a farce that his mother had come up with to make sure that he still attended those family-wide facetime birthday celebrations once he went to college, but either way, he still believed it to some extent. 

He had no clue why he was doing this, or how he even got here, but somehow Jungkook found himself in sweatpants and a hoodie in front of your apartment door at 10pm on a Friday night, cake in tow in one hand, his other hand out ready to knock on your door. 

On the other side of the door, you were equally astonished. It almost felt like you were seeing a hallucination, as if your email to Jungkook had somehow summoned him to your door. You couldn’t help but rub your eyes in disbelief, just to make sure he was actually there. 

“Jungkook?”

Bashful Jungkook seemed to make an appearance again as he tapped his feet in anxiety. And before he could stop himself, words were already tumbling from his mouth”

“Happy birthday?” he said as a question , posing it as if he didn’t know whether facebook was just playing a prank on him (which he honestly didn’t know). “Can I come in?”

You didn’t even really know how to process this situation, but all you could mutter was a “uh, thank you?” in a similar inquirable tone and gesture for him to step into your apartment. If Jeon Jungkook showed up at your door at 10pm on a Friday night, he probably deserved to be heard out.

“You can make yourself comfortable on the couch. Sorry, I wasn’t expecting company otherwise I would have cleaned up a bit.”  You were sure that Jungkook’s neat freak brain was probably frying itself into overdrive based on the empty now-empty pizza box sitting on your coffee table and stray utensils and crumbs on your kitchen counter. You felt a little embarrassed that he had to see this.

Mirroring Jungkook’s hospitality last time you were at his place, you brought him a glass of water and hoped that this evening would go a LOT better than the last time you and Jungkook were alone together in an apartment. 

Jungkook’s cake was still held in his hands. It was a little cake from the 24/7 cafe on campus; he could only find one that said “happy” with little sunflowers and smiles, so hopefully the “birthday” part of it was implied. 

“I, um, I brought cake - for you. I mean your birthday.”

You sat down across from him. 

“Oh you didn’t have to Jungkook, uh that’s really nice but you didn’t have to do that,” you said as you leaned further away from the cake, as if it was an item that scared you. “I’m not big on birthdays anyways, just usually me chilling in my apartment!” 

However, Jungkook was not planning on taking no as an answer. He tried his best to plead with you, but was still getting nowhere. 

“you… you have to do it for my mom!” he said as he thrust the cake even closer to your face. 

You tilted your head in confusion at his statement. 

“I mean uh-, my mom says that it’s bad luck if you don’t blow out candles on cake on your birthday and that if you don’t do it then you won’t live to your next birthday. And um- i know we’re not friends Y/N but I’d rather see you alive next year”.

 Jungkook tried to look as nonchalant and cool as possible, and when he realized his statement was a little too thoughtful he followed it up with a “i mean you could do whatever you want i don’t care it doesn’t matter to me”. 

You were beginning to like this side of Jungkook, the one that was more thoughtful than he was a selfish, inconsiderate dude.

Taking the cake softly from his hands, you muttered a soft “thank you”. At this point Jungkook didn’t know whether you took it from his hands to throw it on the ground or actually use it for its intended purpose. As you leaned over to grab the lighter by your candles on your coffee table, Jungkook let out a breath of relief. 

Throwing open the cake box, you lit the candle in the cake and stared patiently in front of it. 

“Well Jungkook, I believe if I am going to be blowing out candles there should be singing too, no?” You joked with a silly smile on your face. 

Knowing he had no way out of this (and to be honest, he secretly wanted to anyways), he began to sing. 

You had never heard a more beautiful rendition of happy birthday in your life. Jungkook turned the most mundane song, one that you didn’t have many happy memories with, into a tune that made your heart start to swell with joy. You wished the song was longer, because as he stopped to sing you wanted nothing more than for him to keep going. 

“Make a wish, Y/N” , he whispered. 

You didn’t know what to wish for. There were a lot of things that needed to be fixed in the world, and lots of things that you needed too (like a new toothbrush, or the experience of true love). It seemed fitting that since you were only blowing out these candles because of Jungkook, you should at least dedicate the wish to him. So all you wished for was for you and Jungkook to get along just like you were in this moment. 

You looked up at Jungkook from the cake, and from there all you could say was a sincere “thank you”.

The moment was all too sincere, and you and Jungkook could feel the atmosphere shift to one that was all too intimate and friendly for your relationship. As moving away from a hot flame, you both picked up your phones and mumbled excuses to move away from the situation. 

Jungkook was the first to break the ice again. 

“I don’t know how good this cake is going to be, the expiry date was at least a week and a half ago”

“Well Jeon Jungkook, if you brought an expired cake into my apartment, it feels like a right of passage that you have to try this cake with me.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from picking up a piece of cake on a fork and shoving it into his mouth. Immediately, his face scrounged up in disgust, and you could pretty much see him gag. 

“That cream is… very creamy to stay the least,” he said as he thickly swallowed it down, grimacing the whole time. 

His expression made you chuckle. There was something about the way his naturally fluffy hair seemed to move as he swayed like a piece of seaweed on your couch (a mannerism that you had picked up on quite quickly), that made you feel warm inside.

“Considering me sacrificing myself to this cake as a birthday present to you, Y/N” 

The laugh that bubbled out of your chest almost made that gross cake worth it to Jungkook. And some words of sincerity slipped out before you could hold them in. 

“Best birthday present ever, Jungkook, thank you.

--♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡--

Taglist: @apollukee , @mrcleanheichou , @monvieesdaebak 

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 If you liked what you read, please interact/follow! Thank you for reading♡

- Emily

[cabinofimagines]

In the end, cleaning wins.

Percy x gn!reader

Summary: Percy and Y/n are trying their best to be adults. Between work, school, being a demigod, and keeping up the apartment, something or someone was bound to snap.

A/N: Bro I’m always so bad at writing fight scenes since I’m such a peacekeeper lmao. I try to avoid conflict often so rip if this isn’t good.

-Day

_______________________________________

Being an adult is exhausting. 

No seriously, it is. Percy hadn’t slept in over 26 hours at the fault of his new job at the aquarium. It held unusually odd hours, the only upside being a nice pay and working with sea creatures. He loved it, but the position and people he had to work with were obnoxious in many ways.

He stayed up all night trying to cram for a chem exam coming up, but he would’ve slept an hour at least if he’d known the bullshit coming his way. He left home yesterday morning for his bio lecture where he zoned out for 2 out of the 3 hours. Unfortunately, homework was assigned based on the day’s lecture. Amazing. Then, he was called into work directly after because the opening manager flaked out. Also amazing.

The school was across town from the aquarium so he figured he could catch some sleep on the subway, but before he even boarded, a group of dracaena ambushed him. He took off running, hoping that maybe he could lose them instead of having to fight. If he fought in this sluggish state then he’d probably screw up and shish kebab himself.

 He could probably just run to the aquarium from here, take a few back alleys and shake off the slithering psychos. He turned to check if they were still following and to his surprise, they were right on his heels. Pretty fast for creatures with no legs. Or would having the ability to just… glide be faster? Like being on skateboard?

Now really wasn’t the time to be thinking of dracaena with skateboard bodies.

He turned sharply and took the fire escape three steps at a time. He wasn’t sure where this was going, but he was fairly certain that in the prospect of jumping buildings, the person with legs had the upper hand. He could hear the dracaena hissing out things like “get back here, sssson of the sssssea god” or “come here, child”. How the Hades are they still behind him?

He saw the edge of the building approaching and realized that maybe it was a little too far of a jump. But he was already flying over the gap and praying that his ankles don’t snap like twigs when he lands. 

Luckily, he made it. He hit the ledge with his chest, his arms pulling him up. He scrambled to his feet, ready to turn and fight if that jump didn’t shake them. Turns out that it did work, because he’d the pleasure of seeing the failed attempt of the hissing heathers falling one by one into the gap between the buildings. He heard them yelp out curses on the way down, but wasn’t sure if they combusted into dust or not. 

He decided to roof hop for most of the way to work, one because it was a little faster this way and because he had less of a chance to run into bored monsters. Man, he was glad that he didn’t have a manager to answer to this time, they’d probably just be glad he showed up.

---

Percy prided himself on being a pretty chill person both at work and on the regular. However, there wasn’t a day that passed where he wondered if he should just hop in one of the tanks and pretend to be a fish. The sea otters seem pretty stress-free.

He was exhausted and running on energy drinks he’d bought from the gas station a little ways from work. What was supposed to be a 6-hour shift on his one day off turned into him working from 11:30 am to midnight after the evening manager decided to leave early. Percy was never one to complain when others went home before him, in fact, he usually chooses to go last unless he has homework due at 11:59. But when Cooper decided Percy could handle closing the aquarium by himself, he lost it. 

He took the last bus home, thankfully, his trip home was quieter than his trip to work. He sat in the back, head tilted toward the window as he tried to calm the headache that tortured him. He was pretty sure that Y/n would be asleep by now, they had an early morning and he didn’t expect them to wait up for him… but tonight, he really hoped they did.

The promise that Y/n would be there, asleep or not, was comforting enough to him. He wanted nothing more than wordless cuddles and a deep sleep right now. 

----

Walking through the building door he noticed the hall light was off– correction, it was blown. No biggie, Percy had found his way in the dark multiple times, but the stairs seemed to be a different story. He tried so hard to be quiet on the way upstairs, but he managed to trip over the ledge. He swore quietly, fumbling for the railing and hoping his neighbor was dead asleep.

Ronnie often threw fits over the amount of noise the couple made, even if it wasn’t much of a ruckus, Ronnie always claimed that his keen ears could hear everything. He still hadn’t forgiven Percy for the quip he made about maybe turning his hearing aids down, but he will. Hopefully.

Somehow he made it to the apartment door in one piece fumbling for his keys and unlocking the door. He took note of the darkened place and figured that maybe Y/n really did go to bed. It’s alright, Percy was ready to crash and catch a few hours of sleep.

But the lamp was on in their bedroom and the door was cracked open still, so… are you up?

Percy kicked off his shoes and dropped his book bag by the door, trudging over to the bedroom and nudging the door open. Sitting upright in the bed sat Y/n reading a book he’d bought for your birthday. Percy smiled, you looked so cute bundled up in his old uni t-shirt. 

Your eyes shifted to him, crinkling with happiness, “You’re back?” You didn’t move though, clearly comfortable under the heavy duvet. 

He nodded with a small smile, moving over to your side of the bed and placing a quick kiss on your forehead, “I’m gonna take a shower and grab something to eat, you go ahead and get some rest.”

After he turned to leave you heaved a sigh, not sure how to bring this up when he’s as tired as he is. Maybe this could wait until tomorrow? Then he’d be less tired and maybe… no, you already put this off long enough. He’ll be tired regardless of when it’s brought up, might as well get it over with.

So you sat there, not really even reading the words on the page anymore, your thoughts wandering from the universe the author had written about. It really shouldn’t have been this nerve-wracking. It’s a basic thing that needs to be done in every house and you were getting tired of doing it every single time.

Cabinets shutting brought your attention back to the present. Reluctantly, you pushed the duvet back and shuffled towards the kitchen, Percy eating a PB&J sandwich coming into view. He looked like a little kid, leaning against the counter in his black sweatpants and a graphic tee, munching on a small sandwich he made. You grinned and leaned beside him, ignoring the confused glances he gave.

“You miss me that much?” He joked, mouth full of food.

You snorted and looked down, something you tended to do when you got nervous. He seemed in a good mood despite whatever may had happened today, so it’s now or never.

“I actually wanted to talk to you about something,” you mumbled, “And I know you’re tired but I feel like this is only going to get worse if we don’t talk about it now.”

Percy blinked and continued to eat, his silence a cue to continue. He didn’t really want to talk about anything right now, he just wanted to eat his sandwich and go to bed. But it seemed important so he figured he’d survive a little longer.

You studied your sock-clad feet closely, “I know we’re both really busy and it’s hard to find time for certain things like time with each other, time to study, or cleaning. But it’s something we have to find time for, y’know?”

Percy hummed, “I can ask off on Saturday if you want? We can spend the day together, we haven’t had a whole day in a while.”

You gave a small smile because while that is a concern, that’s not what you were talking about. You won’t say no though. You stole a glance at him, “I have missed being with you, I guess.”

“You guess?” Percy said a little louder, poking your stomach teasingly, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You chuckled, swatting his hand away, “Be quiet! Ronnie will be at our door in a second, you know that.” Just do it, he’s in a good mood! “I was actually talking about the cleaning…”

At that, Percy took a look around. The dishes weren’t overflowing and the laundry wasn’t piling up, it didn’t look like something needed to be addressed. He finished the last of his sandwich, “Okay? What needs to be done?”

“Well between the two of us there is hardly any time to do anything else right? Well, it feels like I’m the only one taking care of the place-”

“But I do take care of the place,” He interrupted, “I pay the bills and I pick up after myself so-”

“But you don’t.” You spoke exasperated, “You don’t always pick up after yourself. Look, you left the bread and the PB&J out!” A fight isn’t what you wanted so you tried to approach it a different way. You took a deep breath, “...I understand you’re busy, I am too. I just want you to make a conscious effort to put things away where they belong.”

He scoffed, a disbelieving smile on his face, “I’m not a kid anymore, Y/n. I know how to clean up after myself, my mom made sure of that.”

“Then why don’t you? You used to be really good about helping me out–”

“I’m exhausted Y/n, what do you want me to do?!” 

“Fucking help me, that’s what!”

It went quiet, staring the other down and wondering who would back down first. It was silly honestly, but you were tired of picking up the slack. The work in the apartment used to be equal but lately its looking a lot like you do 88% and Percy does 12%.

You relented, huffing and shaking your head, “Okay then.” You turned on your heel, going over to the front door and putting your shoes on along with a jacket. You needed to calm down, a little fresh air to maybe come up with a different way of approaching this. 

The convenience store across the road might still be open. You could grab one of those bottled iced coffees for tomorrow morning, maybe a small snack too. Hopefully the small errand would be long enough for you to think of another approach. Maybe one where Percy was less of an ass, or less tired, whichever one really.

Percy followed you around to the door, his crossed arms dropping to his sides when he noticed what you were doing. He furrowed his brows, “Where are you going? It’s past midnight.”

“I’m well aware of the time, Perseus.” You hissed, “I’m going out to grab a few things.”

He shook his head, his black hair still wet from the shower, “You can wait until morning for that, come on!” he spoke lowly as he approached you, “let’s just get some rest...”

You pulled from his reach and twisted the door knob open, walking out without another word. You closed it behind you and padded over to the stairs, hopping down the unlit steps like you normally did. 

Unluckily, your foot narrowly missed the next step and without the light to see where you could potentially catch yourself, you fell. Yep, you hit every step on the way down. If Ronnie hadn’t heard the argument you just had, he had to have heard your swears as your body fumbled down to the 1st floor.

Percy flung the door open, the light from your apartment lighting up the dark stairwell. His footsteps thundered down the stairs and there he sat in front of you, words flying out of his mouth so fast that you didn’t even know what he was saying. The fall caught you so off guard that you weren’t sure what was happening right now.

Ronnie threw his door open, profanities slipping out his mouth at the noise, “And this is why I never rent to young couples!” He shouted, but the threat of his words were tame without his dentures to help him spit it out. He turned his head to the bottom of the stairs where Percy leaned over your confused figure, fumbling over his words and oblivious to Ronnie.

“Well shit...” Ronnie muttered, backing back into his apartment quietly.

You snapped out of your daze, noticing how much your ankle actually hurt. Okay you’ve definitely dealt with worse, but the pain was still annoying. You started to push yourself off the steps and into a standing position, using the railing to steady yourself on your good foot.

Percy’s hands slid up your body, settling on your waist and attempting to help you back up the stairs. He kept his mouth shut on the way into the apartment, knowing that you’re probably even more irritated now.

Once you were sat comfortably on the couch, he rushed off to grab a bag of frozen peas to put on your ankle to stop the swelling. You did appreciate the thought, but you were not dealing with this any longer than you had to.

“Percy, there’s some ambrosia in my dresser, bottom drawer on the left.” 

He blinked and wandered off to the bedroom, shuffling through your stuff before muttering, “It’s not even in here.” He spent a couple of more minutes looking around for the Ziploc bag you had, but clearly wasn’t really looking.

You hauled yourself off the couch, chuckling and shaking your head at his antics. Hobbling into the room you saw that he was looking in the night stand, not the dresser like you told him to. No wonder he couldn’t find it. 

“Kelp head, I said the dresser not the night stand.” You laughed, limping over to the dresser and lcoating the bits of ambrosia. Percy was by your side in an instant, leading you back towards the bed and helping you situate yourself there comfortably. You said nothing as you opened the bag and nibbled on one of the pieces, a warm feeling washing over you.

You could feel the pain in your ankle easing off slowly and hopefully it would only be a little sore by morning. Percy took the bag from your hands and set it aside wordlessly, he muttered something about closing the front door before leaving the room.

You could tell he felt awkward about what just happened and he probably felt a little guilty about the argument you just had, even if it wasn’t all that serious. The two of you have had worse fights about worse things, but this is the first time in a while. It was bound to happen.

He came back in right as you shifted under the blankets, turning the light off and slipping underneath with you. He didn’t snuggle up to you right away, waiting to see if you were still pissed at him, but you didn’t make a move to kick him out the bed.

“I’m sorry for being such a dick, Y/n.” He whispered, “I didn’t know how much it bothered you and I’ll try to clean more often. I swear.” 

Nothing was said, for a moment, Percy thought you’d fallen asleep, but you turned slowly to face him, eyes scanning his face in the dim light from the window. You brought a hand up to his face and traced his jawline gently, “That’s all I wanted you to do, stupid.”

He huffed and inched closer to nuzzle your nose with his, “And all it took was a sprained ankle for me to figure that out.”

You laughed and knocked your forehead against his, “It’s my fault for being so deadset on grabbing coffee for tomorrow morning. I should’ve just gone to bed.”

“Do you want coffee now? I can go grab it–”

“No, I’m not getting up tomorrow. Go to sleep, fish brain.”

[growntolovesecrecyfic]

Grown to Love Secrecy - Chapter Three (Petekey)

Can be read here.

Summary:  Mikey Way hates Oscar Wilde but Pete Wentz convinces him to read The Picture of Dorian Gray.

Chapter Three:  The Tyranny of an Old, Loveless Man

--

It’s been a few days since Mikey and Pete’s first night together on the bus. It was an awkward endeavor, but Pete found it quite charming, seeing how nervous Mikey was and how much Mikey wanted to make him happy. He couldn’t help but smile the whole time he was with Mikey.

For the following days, things have been pretty quiet amongst the bands and their missing bassists. One always off with the other but this doesn’t mean that their performance has faltered if anything their new sparked friendship sparked between the two has set off speculation amongst fans and it drives them crazy to be able to sneak a peek at the hottest new bromance in the scene. Don’t even get me started on when the bands would join each other on stage and perform together, fangirls everywhere go wild.

The sun, the music, and the romance (well, mostly on Mikey’s side) has created the perfect summer for the two. Sure, there are some awkward moments of Mikey questioning their relationship status and Pete’s heart thinking for his dick or maybe the other way around. However, these aren’t things that you communicate with the guy you make out with sometimes. So, much like themselves, their feelings stayed in the closet.

Pete conjured up this crazy idea of having their bands being able to hang out with each other and create bonds within the two groups after they leave Texas. Making plans at going to some waterparks before and after their sets to cool off in New Mexico. Maybe watch the sunsets or see some movies as most friends do. And It was during this time where Pete has an inner monologue with himself everyday about his feelings for Mikey.

He promised himself that he wouldn’t hurt after Jeanae. He wouldn’t bend over backwards for another person because he’s the only one that gets hurt in the end and the only one that’s painted as a terrible person. But even so, his feelings for Mikey grow as they stay up late and talk about what the future holds for the both of them and their bands. Both of their widely anticipated third albums and the tours after Warped. Will they ever tour together again? Will they be happy (together)? Does anything they do matter? They are a bunch of existential motherfuckers.

Pete brought up the idea of marriage and Mikey scoffed at the idea which bewildered Pete.

“I don’t think marriage will ever be for me. When my parent’s divorced, it made me believe that love wasn’t as magical as most think it is? Will it really heal everything? Will having someone love me replace the hatred I have for myself? I don’t know.” Mikey looked up at Pete, finishing his mini tangent before his voice faltered and he looks away from him. “Plus, I don’t think I’ve met the person that I’d want to marry yet.” He didn’t want to think what he said was true as he would like to have a potential future with Pete. Marriage? Maybe not but it doesn’t mean that he wants to rid his life of Pete. He’s one of his closest friends and even if this fling isn’t anything but that, he’d still love to have Pete around.

Pete was silent. He didn’t know why he was so upset. Friends with Benefits shouldn’t hurt this much. The benefits of being Mikey’s friend is the occasional make out sessions behind porta potties at Warped and gross, sticky hand jobs and head in gas station bathrooms with the side effects of falling in love with a man that doesn’t believe in the magic of love and what it can heal. Pete shakes his head, who was he kidding. He was the one to initiate this whole idea of a fling with him, why he so upset? This was his grave and now, he must lie in. Or is it his bed? Well, it might as well be grave with the way that this relationship will the death of him.

“Sorry, I was thinking of… stuff.” Pete responded. ‘Yeah, that’s smooth as hell, Pete.’ He thinks to himself sarcastically, mentally facepalming.

Mikey let out a breathy laugh and Pete swore his heart could burst.

“Yeah, ‘stuff’.” He sits up and moves his hands up to make air quotes, “I can tell. Every time you’re deep in thought, your eyebrows squish together, and you bite your lip and look off into the distance. You’re kind of spaced out, deep in your own world. I think it’s pretty cute.” Mikey shies away from Pete and scoots to the end of his bunk.

Pete smiles and crawls toward Mikey, grabbing his thighs and pulling him into a kiss. The couple kiss for a few moments before they pull away, their breath heavy and their faces hot. Their noses are still in contact with each other as they lose each other into their eyes. They swear they can get high off just being around each other. They lay there for a while before they recollect themselves.

After they come down from their high, they get back to working on Pete’s mission to get Mikey to fall in love with Oscar Wilde (and maybe fall in love with him too).

“Alright. So, what chapter did you read up to last time?” Pete asked as he waited besides Mikey who’s flipping through the pages of the maroon-colored book that the pair have been invest in for the past week.

Mikey skims the book as he answers, “Uh, I don’t remember. I think we left off at the part where Lord Henry was saying some bullshit about his selfishness and how Dorian was like charmed, so he ditches Basil to hang with Lord Henry.” Mikey shakes his head at Dorian’s naivety. How can he leave the one man that seems to care for him for some other person who’s clearly not good for him?

As the pair read the rest of chapter three and move onto their transition into chapter four, Pete couldn’t help but notice the similarities between himself and Lord Henry. From his own perspective, he’s charming and witty yet so destructive. Almost everything good in his life has been ultimately destroyed at his own hand. He’s surprised that the band has lasted as long as it did. Maybe it was the other guy’s efforts into keeping the band afloat or maybe the band is what keeps himself sane. Hopefully, he isn’t the Lord Henry to Mikey’s Dorian. However, Mikey doesn’t see himself as that way. He hasn’t gotten that far into the book to find a character to relate to yet, he finds them all to be either too obsessed with someone else or self-obsessed and he doesn’t think that he’d ever find someone to fall that madly in love with to obsess over.

Despite, Mikey’s constant jabs at Gerard for loving Oscar Wilde so much he can see where Gerard in high school was coming from. This book is amazing and tugged at his heartstrings in a way that was too embarrassing to admit to anyone but himself. And well, maybe Pete. He is his boyfriend. In a way. Maybe. Probably. I don’t know.

While Mikey was having his third relationship crisis of that week, Pete couldn’t help but watch him. He realizes that he’d like Mikey around longer than the summer allows. But would Mikey want that? Is that what’s the best for either of them? Pete shakes away those thoughts of self-doubt. Why wouldn’t Mikey want to hang out with him and the guys? They’re best friends and Mikey’s pretty close with everyone else in the band.

Mikey could feel Pete’s gaze on his face, feeling himself grow hot before he turned to face the older man, “Anything wrong, Pete?”

Pete quickly snaps out of his own mind and shakes his head, “Sorry. Thinking again, aha.” He exhales before he speaking softly, “So… Mikeyway. Would you… and the rest of My Chem like to… I don’t know, erm, hang out tomorrow? Like all of us. As a group.”

Mikey was a bit startled by this proposition; their bandmates hardly hang out with each other off stage. It won’t be that hard to convince them though, considering all they do is hang out with Jamia at merch, sign autographs, hang with the fans, and mess with Cortez.

“I mean, sure? I think tomorrow will be great. I’ve heard New Mexico has the best sunsets.”

Pete smiles, “It’s a date.”

“Alright, who the fuck ate all my Cocoa Krispies” Bob exclaimed entering the main room on the bus. The rest of the guys looked up at him confused while Frank as stoic as ever without peering from his magazine answers, “Yeah, so what if I did it? It wasn’t labeled.”

This set Bob off and the rest of the guys and they all got into an argument over how the labeling system is bullshit and that if you know it’s not yours to not take it. All the guys except Mikey. This isn’t unusual behavior for him as he tries to avoid all conflict if possible. This was evident to Gerard and the guys when some drunk guy punched Gerard without warning and Frank tried to run up on the dude while Ray was holding him back. Leaving Mikey nowhere to fade into the background talking to some girl he took home later that night.

However, Gerard was skeptical, he hadn’t spoken all morning even during rehearsals, he didn’t even leave a few snarky remarks at Frank or Gerard as he usually did. It was odd.

Later after the bands small quarrel, they decided to take a small break and go on a walk while Gerard said that he’d rather stay with Mikey, leaving just the two of them on the bus.

Mikey on his sidekick, texting whoever the hell he’s always texting. Gerard guessed it was the guys from lostprophets or maybe the dudes from Fall Out Boy or Adam or Geoff or the countless of girls that ask for his number that he gives out on the random. He’s surprise that Mikey hasn’t gotten his number leaked yet. Mikey chewed on his lip as his fingers stayed frozen on the keyboard of his sidekick, glancing up at Gerard ever so often.

Gerard was the first one to break the silence, “So, do you have any plans for today?” Mikey kept his eyes glued to the sidekick, scanning the screen as it has the answer to Gerard’s question. Mikey sniffled a bit almost as if he needed some time before he spoke then he wiped his nose with the sleeve of his “Mikey” hoodie. He was prone to allergies, no matter what time of year it was, hay fever is one of his biggest enemies.

“Uhm,” He looked down at his sidekick once more before closing it and setting it to the side, “Pete and I were talking last night. You know, how he’s always trying to make me read The Picture of Dorian Gray? Well, we’ve been hanging out a lot and I know, I’m sorry that I haven’t been able to talk to you guys or hang out with you guys much.”

Gerard nodded along as Mikey spoke, agreeing with everything he said as yes, Mikey did hang out with Pete a bit too much to his liking and he hardly hung out with the band unless Pete is with him. It bothered him a bit, but Frank already said that he shouldn’t speak on it so he’s going to leave it at that.

“And he feels bad and wants us to all hang out as a group. Not just us performing onstage to rile up the fans or anything. Not My Chemical Romance and Fall Out Boy. Just a couple of dudes from Chicago and Jersey.” Mikey picks up his sidekick, reading the message that’s displayed before him but before he texts back a response, he looks back up at Gerard, “We can all go out to a waterpark far from Warped and we can just relax and swim and be us.”

Gerard smiles, “Yeah, I’d like that. I think the guys would like that too.”

Mikey smiles back at his brother, “Awesome. I’ll let Pete and the rest of the guys know.” Mikey jumps up from the booth and towards the back of the bus.

[siribear]

‘let glory take point,’ deacon says. ‘she’s the one with the armor.’ it’s true. glory’s the only one even remotely defended, her heavy jacket modified with metal plates stitched within the padding of the tan coat. she and deacon are only dressed in their plain shirts and jeans, for lack of any other armor available at hq.

‘after you, ma’am.’ whisper gestures, falling in line behind glory.

‘don’t call me ma’am,’ glory mutters, leading them through the metro.

thankfully, they only encounter raiders during their trek. the unorganized group doesn’t stand a chance against the three trained agents. glory draws all the attention while whisper and deacon sneak around to pick off the distracted raiders.

‘nice to see that even with your sneaky shit, you haven’t lost your touch, dee.’

deacon, almost in response, finishes off a raider with a clean shot to the head. ‘i aims to please.’

whisper slings an arm across his shoulders, now that the area’s cleared. ‘it’s why i keep him around.’

glory frowns and makes to flick at her glasses. whisper flinches backward, slinking behind deacon. ‘and he made you into a deacon 2.0.’

‘i have to admit, she’s the better looking between the two of us.’

whisper turns around to call the elevator and to hide her growing blush. only made worse when glory openly agrees. the elevator dings, and an automated voice announces its arrival to bzzt floor. ‘after you, miss glory.’

‘being pretty doesn’t make that any less annoying,’ she says, but still enters, and whisper can only smile.

down in the basement, they’re greeted by the haptic sounds of gunfire. immediately, deacon and whisper duck down and behind the minuscule cover the open elevator doors provide. glory ducks, winding up her minigun. no sudden gunfire slams into the elevator, but they can still hear the gunfire, followed by screaming. the only voices they hear are human, over the unmistakable sound of laser fire.

‘more synths,’ whisper says, low. ‘sorry, glory.’

glory sighs. ‘let’s just get this over with.’

glory takes point again as they slowly make their way forward, down a short hallway that ends in a left turn. slowly, at least, until glory charges forward, whisper and deacon on her heels. a handful of raiders, whatever’s left of the group that took over the metro, faces off against a squad of synths. unfortunately, the raiders are trapped behind their makeshift wooden structures, and even with the high ground granted by their constructed lofts, they’re no match for the synth’s lasers and glory’s minigun. the synths, on the other hand, have taken advantage of the stalled subway car, peering through broken windows and metal doors.

between the sharpshooters, the synths are picked off, sparks lighting the dim subway with every one that goes down. glory ends the remaining raiders in a bloody shower of red. all in all, they did well. no injuries on their side, but the carnage turns her stomach. they probably thought the trio could help them; everyone turned against the synths - but the raiders would have turned on them right after, no doubt. some dimming part of her feels - terribly guilty.

‘what’s going through your head, partner?’ deacon asks from his crouched position, hands deep in the pockets of a dead raider. he passes her a handful of pistol ammo, the bullets tinged red with blood.

‘idealism,’ she says, softly.

‘go on.’

she groans, frustrated. ‘just - wondering how many people we can prevent from turning to raiding, you know? no lack of food, water, safety. no need to turn to chems. that sort of thing.’

deacon stares at her for a moment, silent. then, ‘watch that bleeding heart of yours. most people are content to let you bleed out.’

‘yeah, i’m figuring out that much.’ the world pre-war was by no means perfect, but it still shocks her how bad things have gotten. but maybe it’s always been this way, just under the surface, the bombs blowing away the top level of society, peeling back the layers, leaving them with this. she doesn’t take part in the looting, this time.

when the scavenging is finished, glory stands near the door that will lead them back to the surface. ‘you know, this was actually a pretty good run. you two aren’t so bad. guess i can say it was good seeing you two, but i should report back to griswold.’ on the way up, whisper quickly runs her through the updates from the day’s earlier meeting. ‘hey, you find a way back into the institute, i want to be there.’ she cracks her neck. ‘storm the place, give my last fuck you to the assholes who created me.’

‘top of my list, glory, don’t worry.’

‘and keep an eye on the brotherhood,’ she says, motioning to the sky. ‘i’ve been seeing those vertibirds flying around. who knows what they’re looking for.’

‘duly noted, mademoiselle gloire,’ whisper says with a grin. deacon chuckles.

glory isn’t as amused - or not that she’d admit. there’s definitely a smile she’s fighting. ‘and you were doing so well.’

‘what was it? i aims to please.’

glory points between the two of them. ‘i’m getting out of this pair. right now. before i strangle the both of you.’

‘you know we’ll miss you terribly, gloria.’ deacon receives a friendly middle finger in glory’s wake.

-

whisper hardly needs his help maneuvering around the city these days. it almost makes him feel useless. almost. until he stops her from walking right into mutie territory; the mutants have moved further into the city, set up their favorite, bloody decorations along the buildings like christmas lights.

but his partner likes to walk the old roads, likes to wear away the poor, centuries old pavement. ‘save some road for future generations,’ he begs her, and, bless her, she takes to a sidewalk. leave it to her to think of the future.

so, maybe that’s why he appreciates her. it’s been far too long since he’s thought of the future. can’t appreciate the seeds you’ve sewn for the future if you don’t survive the day. she makes him think there might be an end to that.

whisper stops at the entrance to goodneighbor, hand stilled on the metal door.

‘take a hit to the head back in malden? forget how to use doors?’

she spins on her heel, puts her back to the door, and all deacon can think is: uh oh. he knows the look; she wants to talk. and he’ll talk, sure, but -

‘why didn’t you tell me about the tech you picked from kellogg’s brain?’

- deacon is, unfortunately, finding it more difficult to lie to her. she’s picked out enough of his bullshit, gone along with the rest of it. the act itself isn’t difficult - deacon’s been lying for years. but there’s a little part of him that whispers (ha) don’t lie to her.

‘didn’t seem important.’

she cants her head to the side. ‘try again. you can do better.’

see, he can. but he doesn’t want to. so he gives her the truth. part of it, anyway. ‘it might have been a waste of time. i figured, between tom and carrington, they’d find out if it was a lead worth pursuing.’

he notices the tension begin to drain from her shoulders. a leak, not a release. ‘so it wasn’t because you don’t trust me?’

so that’s what this is about. carrington must have gotten to her more than she let on. ‘of course not. i trust you.’ more than he probably should, but deacon still considers himself a good judge of character.

she catches her genuine smile, turns it into a grin, and he can hear the wink in her voice when she says, ‘thought you can’t trust anyone?’

he rolls his eyes even though she’s turned her back to him to push through to goodneighbor. ‘just you, partner,’ he mumbles, low enough that she can’t hear.

-

amari looks between the two of them before pulling away from her paperwork. the memory den is empty today, likely in preparation for what they’re about to do. though, irma had apparently been told who to look out for, because she had simply waved them on to the back.

‘do you have a geiger counter?’ the doctor asks.

‘mine is in the shop,’ whisper answers dutifully. the doctor’s hands return from under her desk and away from a pistol she no doubt has hidden. deacon has taught them all so well.

‘i recognize you.’ amari nods at deacon. ‘you’re the other one?’ when whisper introduces herself, amari’s eyes widen. ‘ah, i see. h2 mentioned you.’

‘he’s why we’re here. malden center is open again for one last run. desdemona is working on another route.’

amari closes her eyes and nods. ‘i thought as much. thank you. it was getting dangerous holding him here.’ she rises from her desk. ‘i’ve kept him the back room, but we’re going to need it if we’re going to go through with this procedure.’ she holds out a note with another shorthand - different from deacon’s own - scribbled in drummer boy’s handwriting. ‘your other friend isn’t here yet. i’ll go have h2 move to another room.’

‘no!’ whisper near-shouts. ‘i’ll get him, it’s no trouble.’

‘i don’t think that’s - ‘ amari begins, but whisper is already halfway to the back. ‘is this her first?’

deacon nods. ‘they got particularly close. she took a bullet for him.’ he remembers the look in her eyes when they were sitting in the lobby in ticon. like a mother looking at her son. how it didn’t hit him then that she’s a mother - ‘she’d find out one way or another.’

he can’t protect her from this.

��he left this for her.’ amari pulls a holotape from her pocket. ‘that’s how i knew who she was.’

-

whisper is breathless, half-skipping down the stairs to where h2 waits. she takes in that mop of brown hair, his padded blue jacket, though he’s grown a beard since the last time she saw him. he sits on a couch at the edge of the room, staring down at his hands.

‘hey - ‘

‘whoa, lady.’ it’s h2′s face, but not his voice. this man’s voice is rougher, not the soft-spoken young man she met in the church. ‘doc said i’m in quarantine. i might be contagious or something. what’re you doin’ down here?’

there’s no recognition in his eyes when he looks at her. just confusion. ‘i, uh, i work with the doctor. she said you’re clear, and we’re moving you to another room. she’s - she’s upstairs.’

‘oh, hey, cool. i was gettin’ bored down here. only so many times you can count ceiling tiles, y’know? was tempted to take a little nap in one of those pods. anyway, upstairs, you said?’

whisper’s glad for the sunglasses when he comes closer. somehow, she keeps the tears out of her voice. ‘yeah, upstairs. she’ll get you set up to leave.’

‘thanks again, lady. nice meetin’ you.’

she doesn’t turn, just listens to the sound of his retreating footsteps. ‘yeah. nice to meet you.’

it’s where deacon and nick find her moments later, standing in the middle of the room, staring at the two memory pods in front of her. the former puts a hand between her shoulders, leans around her. ‘you okay? i should have warned you - ’

‘no, i needed to find out myself. i get it.’ she’s since dried her tears.

‘this is for you.’ he takes one of her hands in his, places something cold and metal in the center. ‘from h2. before.’ it’s a small holotape with her codename written on it.

she puts it in her pocket. ‘thank you.’

nick passes by the two of them and runs a leathery hand over the glass of one of the pods. ‘from what i understand, we’re jumping into kellogg’s memories. sounds crazy, but knowing the institute - ’ he looks to her. ‘you ready?’

the pod looks like the one she stepped into two hundred years ago, though cushioned and inclined. the top half is entirely glass, with a single monitor hanging from the top. static hums on the screen.

whisper takes one step toward it, then freezes. what if it doesn’t open when it’s over? what if she’s stuck again, two hundred years - she grabs deacon’s hand without thinking, grips it like she’s holding on for dear life.

maybe she is.

‘we’ll all be right here,’ he reassures her. ‘it’s just memories. kellogg can’t hurt you in there.’ he turns to someone walking by, and she sees dr. amari has joined them downstairs. ‘he can’t hurt her somehow, right? this is just routine memory viewing?’

dr. amari sighs. ‘routine is not the word i’d use. unorthodox, yes, but no more dangerous. mr. valentine here is the only one in danger of complications.’

‘nick - ‘

‘it’s all right, doll. i agreed to this.’

she sighs heavily. deacon leads her over to the pod and doesn’t let go of her hand until it begins to close. it hisses shut, the hinges clicking as it locks. locks.

‘your heartbeat spiked. i need you to calm down or the memory sync won’t work,’ comes dr. amari’s voice from a small speaker near her head.

calm. breathe in, breathe out. count to ten. breathe in - deacon taps on the glass next to her. the closed pod muffles the sound of him dragging a chair over next to her. i’m right here, she reads his lips.

‘that’s better. this is your first time, so i have to tell you: it might feel a little strange. the static on the monitor is white noise, that’s all. you will be viewing these memories, as if you’re there. but you will be viewing them from kellogg’s perspective. okay?’

‘okay,’ whisper croaks. her voice barely sounds like her own. like h2′s didn’t sound the same -

‘no, no, calm down. we’re almost there. mr. valentine is ready when you are. are you?’

breathe out. ‘i’m ready.’

‘good. sunglasses off, close your eyes, and - ‘

whisper feels a sharp shock at the base of her skull, and the world goes black.

-

deacon watches whisper through the glass, eyes closed like she’s sleeping, but her eyes move back and forth rapidly. her breathing is even, at least. he props his chin in the palm of his hand, and waits.

-

she’s in a bedroom, looking down at child drawings on a bed, worn out crayons spread across a threadbare blanket. a woman sits next to her, smelling of cigarette smoke and something - something else, something familiar, but she can’t place it. she wants to turn her head to look at her, see why she seems so familiar, but she can’t. instead, she flinches at a loud knock on her bedroom door and a louder, male voice screaming on the other side of it.

the woman slides a gun into view, the revolver she’ll come to know, and places a hand on hers. ‘connie,’ the woman says, and finally she looks up. mousy brown hair, bruises on her face, a split lip. ‘you can’t rely on anyone else, honey. this is the only thing you can trust.’

the gun is heavy in her small hands. the man bangs on the door again. she aims the revolver at the door, hands shaking. the man screams and yells, and she doesn’t pull the trigger.

i ran away from home, kellogg’s voice is soft in her mind. i think she wanted me to kill him, but i didn’t realize until i was older and it was too late. don’t know what happened to her. maybe she got out.

oh, whisper thinks.

‘that’s not it. we’ll move on to the next memory.’

-

she’s older now, a prominent scar on her face and leather jacket reflecting in the kitchen window. she watches her wife clean up after breakfast. she has a job to get to in the afternoon, but until then - she wraps her arms around the woman’s waist, presses a kiss to the top of her head. sarah, this she knows. she remembers her, because how could she possibly forget her? her face, the sound of her voice.

and then their daughter coos from her high chair, tosses around crumbs sarah will be finding around the kitchen for months. mary. almost two years old. thank god she’s got her mother’s face. don’t know what she’d do if mary inherited this mug.

surprised to find out i had a family, once upon a time? we aren’t so different, you and i.

‘another memory, then.’

-

she stalks down a hallway like death. she’s the reaper. she’s deliverance. justice. revenge. there will be no mercy when she finds them. the revolver fits perfectly in her hand. a voice calls to her overhead: ‘they died like dogs. and you weren’t there to protect them.’ she knows this voice. she hates this voice. she’s going to tear his throat out with her teeth. she kicks down a door and fires. one, two, three, four, five, six. one was enough. two through six were for sarah and mary. it doesn’t bring them back, but it feels fucking good.

not so different.

‘getting closer.’

-

she nurses a beer. or was it a whiskey? maybe it’s rum tonight. she doesn’t know the name of the bar, but it never matters. what does matter: there’s always a drink.

this was the start of it, she remembers. remaking a name for herself. answering to no one but herself. having someone else lord over her makes them think they own you. and, well, when you have something they can take away?

she takes the job from the drifters. kill some family upriver. names don’t matter. caps do. keeps the liquor flowing.

kellogg is quiet, contemplative. all she gets is the soft buzzing in the back of her mind, and then she’s shuffled off to the next memory.

-

she stands in front of a woman in a clean, white suit. not many people like that around here, anymore. and she’s got two robots flanking her with a third hovering just over her own shoulder. she’s already calculated every way to make it out of this alive if it goes bad.

institute. boogeyman. and apparently she’s gotten on their bad side. not her fault, really, if the institute’s been pissing off people with enough caps to buy her help to get back at them. the only solution she can see: the institute pays her more than that. no more problem.

so the scientist doesn’t believe her at first, that’s fine. she believes after she single handedly takes out three of their skeleton-looking synths before any of them can get a shot off.

minutemen for you, institute for me, kellogg says. how close we were to becoming the same person.

-

‘manual override initiated. cryogenic stasis suspended.’

no. no, no, no. please, she can’t watch this again.

she stares at the faces of the people as they begin to wake up. first, the confusion. then, the panic. they don’t need to open any of these pods. just one. a man wakes, a baby held in one arm. that’s the target. the man looks at her, then past her, and when she turns, she sees - herself. the back up. the pod hisses open, and the man coughs and sputters, never letting go of the child.

cruel. she wonders what the fuck she did to the institute to deserve this job. the old man could have done this himself. not hard to steal an infant from a man whose muscles have been held in stasis for two hundred years.

she raises her revolver when he won’t let go, though, and maybe that’s why she’s-he’s here. do the hard job no one else wants to do. she pulls the trigger, and the man slumps forward. the scientist with him takes the baby who cries loud, echoing off the vault walls. she wonders if that’s what mary sounded like when they took her. oh well. that was years ago and she was a different person, then.

she looks to the woman with murder in her eyes. she grins. this woman would be her justice. her deliverance. her reaper. if only they’d let her go. as it is, she’s the back up. the other scientist down the hall puts her back to sleep. the other poor suckers stay trapped in their pods, forced to suffocate until their end.

‘are you okay? your heart rate increased again.’

‘dr. amari,’ she whispers, throat laden with tears, ‘next memory.’

-

their little house in diamond city has started to become a home. shaun has started to pin his drawings everywhere. some of her, down to her distinct scar. some of his parents he can barely seem to remember. she hasn’t had the heart to tell him what she did. because she’s rather enjoyed - this. what she could have had. shaun’s got the floor covered with his comic books now, and he knows he’ll have to clean them up before dinner.

he’s a good kid. looks like a perfect mix between his mother and father. shaun laughs at travis rambling on the radio, or maybe it’s something he’s reading in his books. she’s busy cleaning her revolver, breathing in the moment.

it ends, though, as do all things. the institute’s courser steps through the door, and everything changes. shaun is to go to the institute, for good. and she’s to hunt down virgil, hiding out in the glowing sea. shaun looks up at her with confused, but understanding eyes. she doesn’t even get to say goodbye before he and the courser disappear in a flash of blue light, teleported back to the institute.

she spins the chambers on her revolver, listens to it click and whir. with a flick of her wrist, it’s done. she’ll set up in fort hagen for now. the old man will have her house cleaned out the moment she leaves, so she packs only what she needs. her guns, ammo, armor. her favorite cigars and booze, because if she’s going to the glowing sea, she’s going to enjoy herself before setting foot in that radiation bath.

she picks up shaun’s pile of comics and stacks them neatly on the desk. maybe whatever courser that cleans her place will take them back to shaun. she laughs, realizing how stupid that sounds. so she picks up the stack herself and throws the entire thing into the trash can.

she shoulders her bag and turns off the lights, locking the door behind her. at least she had the taste of her perfect little family.

good riddance.

now get out.

-

‘that’s it!’ amari shouts, but deacon isn’t listening.

he’s watching whisper wake up slowly, electrodes at the base of her skull falling as she pulls away from the chair. she touches her cheek, follows the trail of her tears from earlier. whatever she saw bothered her. a lot. she practically jumps when the pod clicks open, and he’s there in an instant, helping her out of it and steadying her shaking legs.

‘that’s why we could never find an entrance to the institute. there isn’t one. at least not an obvious one.’

‘teleportation - that’s,’ whisper starts slowly, tries to reform words. ‘how?’

‘i assume that scientist the courser - ‘ deacon stiffens. ‘ - mentioned, virgil, will know something. he’s your best bet. the glowing sea,’ amari says to him, the only one not privy to any of this, ‘that’s where you’ll find him.’

the glowing sea. a heavily irradiated expanse of land. great.

‘where’s nick?’ whisper asks.

‘he was up before you. i’m going to check on him, make sure there’s no side effects from that procedure. then i need to get ready to move h2. excuse me.’

amari leaves in a rush, but whisper stays where she is, looking dazed. he remembers the first time he used the memory pod, and he ended up much like this after it. though reliving the memories of an institute hitman couldn’t have been easy on her.

‘whisper,’ he tries, bringing her focus back to him, instead of the chair she’s burning a hole into. ‘you okay?’

‘deacon,’ she stares up at him, eyes wide. she opens her mouth to speak, cups his face like she’s trying to see if he’s real, and then her eyes shift down, and suddenly she’s kissing him.

his hands instinctively go to her hips, but the rest of his body is two steps behind his brain that is currently short circuiting. it’s over, as quick as it was unexpected, and he has a hell of an internal war trying to convince himself that he isn’t disappointed.

she pulls away slowly, eyes half-lidded, and she whispers, ‘thank you,’ against his lips, still so close he can trace out the syllables. whisper comes back to herself, eyes back to his, bright and hopeful. ‘thank you, thank you,’ she repeats.

‘wait. what?’

she’s still grinning when she bends down to pick up her sunglasses, fallen to the floor of the memory pod, and it doesn’t fade even as she drags him back upstairs to the main floor of the memory den.

[outwritenewsmag]

Fuchsia 

by Sarah Jensen graphic by Shay Suban

Love was in the air, so Alicia packed up her laptop and some notebooks and evacuated the premises. She liked her roommate, and didn’t mind her roommate’s boyfriend visiting, but the two of them were inching closer while watching some rom-com and she saw where this was heading.

Her floormates were shouting and blasting One Direction in the floor lounge. The building lounge was hosting some midterm stress relief event. Alicia was starting to entertain the idea of actually making the trek to a library for once, but a text stopped her.

Chris: Yo I’m doing chem in my lounge if anyone wants to join.

Kumiko: I’m down

Alicia considered it. Study groups usually weren’t great for her productivity. That said, Chem was her weakness this quarter. Kumiko and Chris were doing well in that class, based on the first midterm. And a free lounge was a free lounge.

Alicia: omw

She realized then that she’d forgotten her laptop charger in her room.

It’s not even a real anything. It’s just them walking down the rain-soaked street, holding hands with arms outstretched because they have the room, skipping a little in the night. The air smells clean, freshly bathed.

One twirls into the other’s arms. She turns around to hug her properly. They could say something, but words wouldn’t be enough. So they hold each other for a second, and then continue on their way in the crisp night air.

There’s a real world out there somewhere, but it’s not their concern right now. Their only worry is trying to keep the fuzz in their hearts from getting wet, which is both an easy problem and not a bad one to have.

And what is there to say? It’s a feeling that’s warm but not too warm, smells like rainy leaves and her shampoo, the softness of a chinchilla and the light chill of an autumn night. It’s like her body is free and her heart is in her hug. It’s as contradictory and beautiful as love itself.

There is nothing to say. Just them two walking down the rainy road, holding hands with arms outstretched to take up the space they’re given.

“How’s it going with Carla?”

Jack grinned as he changed lanes. “Pretty chill. I think we’ve established we’re official but on the DL.”

“Why so secretive?” Alicia asked.

“Uh… She’s worried people will judge her for getting in a relationship right after breaking up with Neal.”

“Right after? Bullshit, it’s been two months.”

Jack shrugged. “Her words, not mine. Shoutout to double standards, ‘cause I broke up with Gabrielle around the same time, and I know I won’t get judged for being with Carla.”

“Also bullshit. How long is Carla in mourning for?”

Jack laughed out loud. “I think she wants to wait another month, at least. A quarter of a year is a respectable period of mourning for a young gentlewoman,” he said in an affected tone.

Alicia snorted. “Honestly, it’s nice that she’s moved on already. She’s heading into her next love story instead of rereading the last one for too long.”

“Instead of prolonging the period of sorrow and tragedy.”

“Exactly! And I mean – aw, man, not this song.”

“What’s wrong with ‘Thinking Out Loud?’” Jack said. He seemed to be taken aback at the thought that anyone could be less than enthusiastic about Ed Sheeran.

“I dunno. It’s too sweet. Like drinking syrup.”

Jack shrugged and changed the station. Alicia made a face at “Stitches,” but didn’t comment. At least it wasn’t sappy.

“Anyways. Carla broke up with Neal, so she wasn’t even in real mourning.”

“Right, so, on the topic of double standards…”

“She’s still expected to mourn at least a little? As the girl in the relationship?”

“And if she mourns a little, she’s expected to mourn fully.”

Alicia groaned and threw up her hands, hitting the car roof a little. “Remind me to never get into a relationship with a guy.”

“I mean, I didn’t think you ever would?”

“That’s fair.”

Life as they know it is pink. A bit of a dry, light pink, a color you’d call rose and identify on the walls of an old-fashioned café. The color of jazz trumpets and strawberry lemonade.

They take a stroll – there’s no other word for it in this pink weather – in search of ice cream, but when the ice cream parlor is closed, they opt for lemonade. It’s not strawberry, and looks deceptively yellow, but don’t be fooled – it’s pink too.

It’s half a degree cooler than beach weather today. It’s warm and sweet and tart out, like the lemonade sticking in their throats, and if you look around you might see a blue sky, green leaves, a gray walk – but today, for them, life is tinted with rose-colored glasses, and there’s nothing in their way.

Alicia: Anyone’s lounge free? There’s a rom com playing in mine .-.

Kumiko: You don’t like rom coms?

Alicia: idk

Alicia: The characters’ bad decisions are stressing me out?

Chris: My lounge is free

The study group wasn’t completely efficient – mostly because Alicia’s sister texted needing relationship advice, which Alicia was fully unqualified to give – but it was certainly better than having to watch 27 Dresses.

Sometime in the first hour, Kumiko asked her about a Chem practice problem. Alicia looked and cringed internally – proton NMR spectroscopy. Her weakest weak point. She could see it now: Kumiko exposing Alicia as a fraud who didn’t know anything about chemistry, Chris reacting in shock, both of them kicking her out of the study group. But then she realized–

“Oh, the chemical shift is farther upfield for this one because…”

Alicia explained her way through it, and it made sense. “Oh, okay. Thanks,” said Kumiko.

“No problem,” Alicia said, completely taken aback. She’d scored solidly below average in her last two Chem classes, and bombed the first midterm this quarter. By now, she’d given up on really understanding Chem. Getting NMR right, and especially being able to expound upon it, was unfathomable. So how…?

Alicia couldn’t explain why she thought Kumiko had something to do with it.

Over the next few hours, their separate work converged. They solved practice problems together. It blew Alicia away – she had forgotten what it felt like to understand chem, and to see science with a sense of wonder, and to work with someone this well. She kept getting the sense that they were on the same wavelength.

They dance (they don’t really). They walk to the side of the hill to see the city lights. This isn’t something they’ve ever done before.

Neither of them care for the view. The distant city is too far and detached from their little world above. But music soars in her heart, though she doesn’t know the words, and there is a warmth in her that’s more gentle than thermal.

They hold hands and wonder if they’ve finally fallen in love.

The music takes her over and she pulls her into a ballroom embrace. She can’t hear the music, but she steps and follows her and they only step on each other’s feet a few times. She hopes what’s in her heart – the color gold, smooth as satin, a flame warmer than the lights they aren’t looking at – is in hers too.

Their steps slow as the music slows, and they draw nearer. Her head rests against her shoulder, a cheek resting on top of her head. They could kiss, but why would they when they can stay in this embrace instead?

This is what it’s like to stand in love, they think.

It was so thoroughly not-a-big-deal, Alicia couldn’t even pinpoint what happened later.

She remembered getting to the lecture hall early and listening to the Hamilton soundtrack. She remembered Kumiko and Chris arriving in chem and sitting by her, like always. And at some point Alicia thought to herself, “____________”

(She didn’t remember.)

(It was something along the lines of, “Kumiko’s kinda cute,” but the words don’t capture the feeling, which was more about the person and less about her looks.)

“So what do you like about her?” Jack asked her five days later. Five days of Alicia’s feelings snowballing down a hill, in which the hill was getting steeper and the bottom was nowhere in sight.

“Um…” Alicia kinda shrugged. “I’m still trying to put words to it. She’s… I want to say genuine? It’s like she knows exactly who she is, and doesn’t have any reason to be anything else.”

“Confidence is sexy,” Jack said, nodding as he poked the boiling tortellini. “Shit, can you… Can you hold this for a sec?”

Alicia took the colander and held it over the sink while he poured a bit of water out of the overflowing pot. “I don’t know if sexy is the right word,” she said. “I mean, she’s cute, I just… I dunno. That’s not why I fell for her.”

Jack placed the pot back on the stove. “Is genuineness the main thing you like about her?”

“I think so? I’m still working it out. Don’t worry, I’m sure I’ll manage to overanalyze both her and my attraction to her over the next… however long I like her.”

Read more....

[mc-slowwalker]

I do not have dream merch (😔😔) but if I did and was in the discord I would literally never say anything and probably not even make it in time to the vcs before they got full. lmaoo more like dream is a milf. when dilf dream or whatever got trending a while ago because of connor, I replied to multiple people with “milf*” and I think I’d be happy if I ever got cancelled for that

yeah exactly!! I don’t want it to become a chore (which watching vods can be😭😭) I was watching ranboos mcc vod and I got so many ads I was ready to scream. also is it just me or are the ads always so fucking loud like it startles me so many times. idk about the sub thing tho but I’m like pretty sure you get an ad regardless

I haven’t bought a textbook for a single one of my subjects so I hope my lectures slides are good enough. last sem the exams were open book and online so I kind of just googled my way through the bio exam😬😬 also last semester I think I watched very few of my lectures and I’m already doing better than that this sem

apologist discourse is fully the lamest. it’s so boring too. and dumb. yeah!! discourse can be fun! I like having discussions and I love seeing different points of view but Apologist discourse?!?!?!! like seriously?? it’s so dumb especially with the assumptions made. which is why I always defend c!dream apologists. god you’re so right about the “in this day and age thing” but yeah teenagers will be teenagers

right?!?!! like I was like omg dream!! playing bedwars!! and I had a fun time watching it but like right after twt was back on their bullshit. good thing about living in australia though, half the stuff mcyttwt trends, doesn’t actually trend here lol. oh yeah that’s fair. I’ve watched hannah occasionally and she’s cool. absolutely cracked at bedwars. it’s so blatantly sexist!! and they’ll bend over backwards to justify how it isn’t it’s awful. lmao I felt the same when I left hannah’s stream once dream was gone😭😭 it sucks too cause they’ll whine about not getting dream content but the moment he goes and interacts with his FRIENDS they’ll start trending /neg or shitting on them for dumb stuff. like after dream played gartic phone with the ppsat crew and people started saying shit about gumi’s voice :/// plus another thing, kind of off topic but I was reminded, I see so many dream stans on twitter who hate techno so much (I don’t even know why and at this point I’m too afraid to ask like I know what he did but they’re so forceful in their hate) and just like??? dream is literally the biggest techno stan out there like how are you gonna have techno stans dni in your bio but still interact with dream🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

lolll. yeah my subjects really go from physics‼️bio🧫 chem🧪 to 😌being online: internet meets society😌

ranbob🥲🥲 I miss them dearly. the best dream apologist. YES DREAM WHERE IS THE LORE. it’s been MONTHS since the sneak peak. MONTHS. and sam slightly showing the courtyard in one of his streams and hinting at it’s importance??? like please give us the lore

but also!! new dream vid today :DDD

I’ve heard shipping rates to counties that aren’t american are killer and yeah I wouldn’t ever be awake enough to get into vcs….. here’s the thing though I’m not afraid to call dream a milf to his face but calling his mom a milf is a terrible first and only impression you know? My dumbass would walk in, reference the tapeworm post accidentally and be banned on site

They are loud but I’ve also found at that our favorite streamers are super quiet?? Like I was on dream’s stream for mcc and when I switch to quackity’s I got jump scared because he was so loud in comparison. Also if subs still get ads on vods I’ll fucking riot I’m jot subbed to anyone but no ads means no ads mother fuckers

From one college person to another :

Also all my classes were live so I wasn’t able to go back and rewatch them…. But honestly good on you googling your way through test I was too anxious to do that but I was also too anxious to do well on any of the exams so lose lose for me.

As someone who whines about no dream content I personally love seeing him on his friends stream! It seems like he’s on his bedwars arc rn so I’m really happy he has a bunch of friends willing to play with him! AYO IF ANYONE SAYS SHIT ABOUT ANY OF THE PPSAT CREW ITS ON SITE. How dare they what gumi is someone bothering you I’ll take care of it what the fuck!!! The hannah stuff bothered me but the gumi stuff is pissing me off!!! I like gumi’s voice she’s baller!!! I’m about to start gatekeeping (/j) the dream stan community are you even a dream stan if you’re not also a rivals duo enjoyer???? Shameful. I’ve had the same sub title/heading thing for my tumblr page forever and it just gets truer every day. Also extremely curious to see how many people clicked the links in it. If you haven’t you should, the first one is a joke but the second one isn’t

Actually I can’t call you a nerd I’m put here taking math, spanish, chem, and bio of my own free volition. Actually if you have any group discussions promise me you’ll tell people to touch grass yeah? I just think it would be funny

Ranbob my favorite he/they when will they return from the war…. Or arrive to the war actually. Better yet when will tales from the smp return as a whole karl I know you’re busy but please spare some serotonin please! I didn’t actually read the inbetween lore ever but I liked the idea of it!! I also miss all the banger characters that came from it,,, crops, ranbob, the twins, Cornelius, robin, unnamed cattboy,,,, all of the other characters that I got attached to right away,,,, I miss them always. I was watching tubbo’s stream today and he was talking about how he’s getting bored on the dream smp and oh boy did that hurt. Logically tubbo isn’t actively trying to do any lore and several dream smp members still log in everyday and do something, but it was for sure a kick to the gut. About the courtyard stuff, I wonder what they’re waiting for? Is there something in it that hasn’t happened yet or is there a different reason we haven’t gotten to see it yet? Guess we’ll have to wait

I accidentally watched the wrong dream video so I spoiled the whole thing for myself akhdkfjd funfact the video and the extra scenes look very similar

[foolishheadstronggirl]

Served - Chapter 5

New chapter time!  I meant to post during the week, but we had multiple softball games and then a field trip this week, and there was just no way!  Anyway...

This is an important chapter to me.  I feel really strongly about the subject matter here, and it’s what drove me to write this story in the first place. More author notes at the end of the story - I’ve got some personal stuffs for you today lol

Thanks as always to the most excellent @13starbuck42 for some really outstanding beta-ing (I don’t care, mr. dictionary, it’s a word now) in this chapter; I wrote pretty emotionally, and you helped so much!!  Tagging @today-in-fic

Catch up with Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 and Chapter 4!

Chapter 5 – Escape

By Monday, it seemed Daryl had all but forgotten about the scene at the bowling alley.  Dana still felt a little weird about it, but it seemed odd to bring it up again, so she decided to drop it and move on.  She didn’t mention it to anyone either, especially Melissa; she knew exactly what Missy would have to say.  Besides, she was completely in control.  Dana Scully didn’t let things get out of control.

School plodded along as expected for the rest of the week, but Dana felt a bit uneasy when she was with Daryl.  It was actually a little off-putting, because Daryl seemed oblivious. Dana may not have had much experience with relationships in her young life, but that didn’t necessarily mean she was completely innocent when it came to guys and expectations.  Her sister had made sure of that.  While outwardly it seemed she let the startling episode slide into oblivion, Dana had, in truth, logged it away in her mind for further study.  She knew one thing for absolute certain - she didn’t intend to be caught unaware again.

The football field was a bustling hotspot of activity in September.  In December, however, the only thing going on there after school was people training for cross-country, which made it an ideal place to hang out.  And that was exactly what Dana found herself doing on a blustery Thursday afternoon.  After school, Daryl shepherded her to the bleachers where a few friends were waiting, despite her insistence otherwise.

“You know I’ve got a huge Chem test tomorrow, Daryl.  I really need to get home,” Dana said, exasperated.  She was getting a bit tired of being pushed around and treated like she wasn’t able to make her own decisions.  She had a life, damnit.

“Come on, babe, we’re just gonna go sit and hang out for a few.  Lisa and Sharla said they were really hoping you’d be there; something about “testing trones” or whatever.  I don’t know,” Daryl shrugged, flipped his hair back, and slung his arm over Dana’s shoulder as he steered her toward the football field.

Dana was afraid if she rolled her eyes any harder they would stick.  She knew Daryl was completely full of shit. He was just manipulating her; he was not that stupid.  She was not going to stoop to that level; he knew that wasn’t right, she did not have to correct him, damnit.  Her brother was always calling her an insufferable know-it-all, but that ‘testing trones’ bullshit was so stupid it made her stomach roll.

“Testosterone, Daryl.  I know you know that; don’t try to sound like a dumbass.”  Dana glanced over at Daryl, prepared to continue arguing with him about why she couldn’t join them, only to meet his slightly crestfallen face and downturned eyes.  She melted a little, despite her resolve.  “Fine, I’ll come for like, half an hour.  Then I’ve got to get home.”

They found their friends in the bleachers just as the track athletes were stretching and getting ready to put in a few laps.  The group chatted amicably about the upcoming Winter Semi-Formal, but before long they started to trickle away in pairs.  Eventually, Dana found herself sitting alone with Daryl on the aluminum bench.

“Let’s walk, babe,” Daryl said.  “This seat’s getting kinda cold.”

They meandered along the track until Daryl suddenly turned back toward one of the buildings, and Dana got the distinct impression that she was being herded again, though she couldn’t figure out why would they be going back toward the school.  The buildings would all be locked by now, and Daryl didn’t exactly crave scholastic achievement.

It didn’t take long, though, for Dana to discover just what Daryl had in mind.  There was a narrow alleyway between the equipment shed and the locker room. Daryl slipped in, pulling her behind him.  It obviously wasn’t a newly discovered hiding spot; there were cigarette butts and beer cans on the ground.  But the squiggly feeling in the pit of Dana’s stomach told her Daryl wasn’t interested in lighting up or drinking.

Dana took three steps into the small space and Daryl shoved her roughly up against the brick, digging his hips into her hard and pinning her to the wall with his hands on her shoulders.  The shock of such force took Dana by complete surprise.  Their physical relationship had been fairly gentle up to that point.  Dana had even tried to take things further with him once, but either he hadn’t been interested at the time, or it simply hadn’t gone as well as she’d expected.  She wondered if she had been completely wrong about Daryl...but at the same time, she thought it was kind of sweet, respectful even.

This was not.

This was crude, and pushy, and wrong. Daryl had her shoulder pinned back with one hand while the other sharply grasped her hair, forcing her face up to his.  He pulled her into a jarring  kiss, pressing into her hard enough to be uncomfortable. Dana tried to put her hands on his chest and push away, but he ignored her and tightened the heated embrace.  She finally managed to break the kiss by wrenching her mouth away and turning her face.  Daryl continued his assault on her neck as she tried to catch her breath.

“Daryl, stop it!  What the hell are you doing?!” Dana exclaimed.  She pushed again, harder this time, and managed to get him to disengage long enough to meet her eye.

Daryl grinned at her, feral.  “What?  I just think it’s time we take this to the next level.”  He leered at her now, and winked like he was letting her in on some big secret.  “Don’t fight it, Dana.  You’ll enjoy it, I promise.”  He reached for her again.

“Are you insane?!  I’m not having sex with you in broad daylight; we’re practically on the football field, Daryl.  This is ridiculous!  I’m going home.” Dana turned on her heel, ready to stomp away, but as she glanced out between the buildings, she noticed the group of Daryl’s friends.  They had seen everything, the whole show.  Her blood was boiling; she was furious.

Daryl’s arm shot out and savagely gripped her wrist.  “We’re not done here.  You’re not going anywhere.”  He ignored it when she flinched slightly as he twisted the skin of her wrist painfully.

Dana look back at him with a glare so razor-sharp it could’ve cut glass.  “I don’t need your permission to leave.  Let me go, Daryl.  Now.”

Daryl yanked her hard, slamming her back into his body, and smirked at her.  “And if I don’t?  You’re awfully tiny to be bossing me around.”

“I won’t ask you again, Daryl.” Dana’s voice had lowered to almost nothing; she was livid.  “Let go of me and walk away.”

Daryl sneered.  “You didn’t ask the first ti—”

Dana drove a sharp knee up into Daryl’s groin as hard as she could, intent on driving his nuts into his brain.  When he was doubled over, yowling in pain, she grabbed the back of his head and shoved him face-first into the brick wall.  Daryl smacked his smug face so hard that he bloodied his nose and knocked out a tooth before he fell to the ground groaning.  Dana covered her mouth in surprise and hurried away.

“You bitch!” Daryl yelled, and she heard his friends laughing from across the field as they made their way over to check out the wreckage.

Sometimes it really paid off to have an older brother, especially one who loved to mess with you all the time. Thanks to Bill, Dana had learned early on how to physically protect herself.  Not that she’d ever kneed Bill in the groin, of course, but she sure was glad she knew how.

~Author Notes:  In case you don’t know this about me already, I’m a junior high librarian, so I’m with kids aged 10-13 on the regular.  That’s a tough age for everyone, and now more than ever, we have an extremely high percentage of students living without stable homes and little in the way of stable parenting situations.  While this doesn’t necessarily mean they don’t get the love and attention they need, it does sometimes mean we see kids who don’t get the sex education they need.  Unfortunately, we have seen a lot of these kids at such young ages engaging in things they just aren’t ready for, and then are so confused and upset.  The worst ones, though, are the ones who are victims to being forced in some way.  At my level, that’s usually through rumors and gossiping, which is painful in itself.  Anyway, I spend a substantial amount of time now talking to kids, especially girls, about how to protect themselves and be strong and intelligent, but we all know that sometimes that’s just not enough.  I’m trying to do my part by raising kind, respectful boys who know what’s right, but the world is an ugly place.  If you need help, or if you know someone who does, don’t ever be afraid to reach out to someone.  A teacher, a pastor, a parent or a friend’s parent, someone you trust that you can talk to.  Despite what you see in the news and various media today, there are still some good people in the world.  And no matter where you are, my door (and my inbox) is always open.  I learned a long time ago through my own personal trials that a successful life didn’t necessarily mean standing on my own, but learning to lean on those that loved me and could help me find my way until I truly could.  I love you, @acefamilydawg . You have been a rock for me for 23 years, and I am beyond blessed to have you.  You’re my homie for life, boo.

[starsinursa]

Prompt: "You look ridiculous with that on your head."

“You look ridiculouswith that on your head.”

“I’m going to ignorethat,” Dean says magnanimously, adjusting his grip on his foam sword andshaking his head cautiously to make sure his wig is still in place, “because I know I lookawesome.”

Sam makes a face at him.It pulls at the red paint smeared in large square patches across his face.

“Awesome? Dude, you look likeThor.”

Dean grins. “So,a god among men? That sounds about right. Face it, Sammy, you’re just jealousthat your hair isn’t the prettiest anymore.”

Sam rolls his eyes, but swallows any retort he was about to give as Charlie strides out in front oftheir “army”. The chatter around Dean dies down as everyone shuffles into somesemblance of order, waiting expectantly.

Charlie plants her feetin front of them. She’s wearing a long tunic checkered with red, her own foamsword is strapped to her hip, and her hair is braided and pinned back to keepit out of her face. It’s a marked contrast from her normal look - usually some kind of graphic t-shirt, messenger bag slapping against her legs as she walks with Dean across campus to their Chem Lab class - but it’s a good look on her. She looks fierce and even a little intimidating, even though she’s nearly a foot shorter than everyone in her “army”.

“Followers of the Moon!” Charlie says, raising her voice so it carries. “I see in your eyes the same fear that would takethe heart of me.” She starts to pace with deliberate, measured steps. “A day may come when the courage of men fails, when we forsakeour friends and break all bonds of fellowship. But it is not this day. An hour of wolves and shattered shields when the age of men comes crashing down! But it is not this day! ”

Dean leans towards Sam and mutters from the side of his mouth. “Isthat –“

“-the speech from Lord of the Rings?” Sam whispers back. “Yep.”

Deanstraightens and barks out a quiet laugh. “That’s my girl.”

Charlies stops and glares at them all fiercely, eyes shining. “This day we fight! By all that you hold dear on this good Earth,I bid you stand!”

Dean turns his attentionto the enemy army on the other side of the field. Their flag is raised high behindthem, dark blue and bearing the emblem for the Warriors of Yesteryear, their “enemy” in today’s battle, and mostof them are costumed accordingly in some type of blue garment or bluefacepaint, a contrast to the red faces of his own army.

Charlie spins around to face the enemy army, pulling her sword out of her belt and raising it high. “For Moondoor!” she yells.

Their army surges forward.

With his own yell, Deanlifts his sword in the air and charges. Even Sam is getting into it,yelling aloud next to him as he runs, holding his own sword aloft. There’s a few moments ofnothing but battle cries and thudding feet, and then they clash against their opponentsin the field.

Dean disarms someonewithin the first three seconds, knocking the poor bastard’s foam sword rightout of his hand and kicking it away. He lunges and jabs forward with his sword,careful to only spear the air right next to his opponent, but it gets his pointacross. The man claps a hand to his chest, sinking to his knees in his dyingthroes, and just like that, Dean has downed his first enemy of the day.

Whilethe guy’s still pretending to die - this one’s a friggin’ ham, now convulsing on the grass and reaching upa grasping hand towards the sky - Dean rolls his eyes and turns to the nextperson.

He mock-fights his waythrough three more people, working up a light sweat and grinning with eachopponent that he vanquishes. He dodges a few beanbags, clanks against a few shields, and “decapitates” his current opponent with a particularly stunning leap on his own part, if he does say so himself.

As he steps back from his vanquished foe, he catches sight of blue in the corner of his eye and turns toface his next enemy -

- and promptly trips over his feet.He quickly rolls with it, using his stumble to bring himself into a defensive stancewith his feet braced apart, but goddamn,some kind of warning would have been nice, because his opponent is gorgeous -  young, probablyaround Dean’s age, with narrowed blue eyes and messy dark hair tousled from the breeze and fighting. And to top it off, the guy is shirtless, blue lines and whorls spiraling across his chest and downhis arms. 

The guy adjusts his gripon his sword, and Dean’s eyes hone in on his hands. He has only the briefest ofseconds to admire them, long fingers wrapped around the pommel of his sword,before the guy is rushing at him.

Dean barely gets his shieldup in time to block him, and the guy manages to push him back a few steps. He’stall, nearly as tall as Dean, and obviously pretty fit and toned because, oh yeah, he’s not wearing a friggin’ shirt. Thatshould really be considered cheating.

Dean pushes back with his own shield andthey step apart, warily circling each other. The guy meets hiseyes and Dean winks, which only earns him a suspicious squint before the guy iscoming at him again. 

Shit, this dude is intense,he takes his LARPing seriously.

The guy gets in severalgood whacks to Dean’s shield, which leaves it ringing and his arm aching, buthe holds his own and manages to catch the guy on the back of the thighs with theflat of his sword. The guy jerks away, a bead of sweat trickling at hishairline, and Dean goes after him.

He’s grinning, he knowshe is. He probably looks like a friggin’ nutjob, but he doesn’t care. Thisguy is good, he’s keeping Dean onhis toes, and this is the most fun Dean’s had in ages, especially after all that bullshit with his finals.

It’s definitely a bummerwhen the guy manages to disarm him, Dean’s sword flung away across the grass. The guy slams theirshields together in an effort to throw Dean off balance, and it works –he ends up flat on his ass, shield skittering away, a little dazed and a lotdisappointed in himself. He prepares to be “killed”, closing his eyes and waiting for the guy’s sword to run himthrough, but it doesn’t come. After a moment, he cracks an eye and looks up curiously. The guy is just…standing there, fingers flexingaround the hilt of the sword, looking a little unsure.

…well, maybe he’s not a goner after all.

Dean kicks the guy’sfeet out from under him and the guy goes down with a yell, landing on his ownass. Immediately Dean rolls, grappling for the sword, but the guy recoversquickly and stretches his arm up to hold the sword out of reach. The shieldgets tossed away as they grapple, wrestling for the sword. 

It’s not surprisingthat Dean is winning – he’s got a slight advantage in height and probably 10 or15 lbs on the guy, plus it can’t feel great to bewrestling around in a field with no shirt – but then the guy arches up in an effort to dislodgeDean, his plush lips parting with a grunt of effort, and Dean’s brain kind offizzles.

And that’s how he findshimself flipped onto his back a moment later, arms effectively pinned to hissides in the grass by the guy’s knees as he straddles Dean’s waist. He’s leaning forward,bracing his weight on his arms on either side of Dean’s head. The bastard still has ahold of his sword in one fist. They’re both panting, sweaty.

This may be the mostturned on Dean has ever been in his life.

“Do you yield?” the guy asks - no, growls - and holy shit, his voice.

Dean stands corrected. This is the most turned on he’s everbeen in his life.

He nods, throat working as he swallows. The guy lets out a breath, some of the tension and fight leaving hisbody, and it brings him a couple of inches closer to Dean’s face. Dean blinks up at him, frozen, pinned by those blue eyes. Neither of them move.

The sudden sounds ofcheering and whooping startle them both. The guy is swinging himself off Dean’slap and standing up before Dean knows what’s happened. After a moment, he follows suit,clambering to his feet more slowly and telling himself that he’s not disappointed. His army is cheering nearby, weapons raised in the air. 

Huh. Apparently Dean’s army won.

He turns to grin at the guy, still standing stiffly near him, and holds out a hand. “Good game, man. I’m Dean.”

There’s only a second of hesitation before the guy takes his hand and shakes it. “Castiel.”

“Nice to meet you, Castiel,” Dean says, and he means it. Christ, does he mean it.

He staggers suddenly under the weight of someone launching into him, releasing Castiel's hand and automatically winding an arm around Charlie to hold her steady.

“We won! Victory to the Followers of the Moon!” Charlie shrieks in his ear, and he winces. 

“Easy there, Chuckles,” he chides, setting her back on her feet. He turns to Castiel, intending to make a polite introduction, but he’s startled to see that Castiel is already fifteen feet away, striding back to his own army without a backward glance.

Dean does not pout. He doesn’t.

Charlie’s elbow catches him in the ribs. “And what was that?” she asks slyly. “I saw you fighting a little during the battle. You know you’re supposed to kill the enemy, right? Not dry-hump them on the field?”

Dean splutters. “I was - we were not dry-humping, Jesus! I was trying to get his damn sword!”

“Sure you were,” Sam snarks from his other side, and when the hell did he pop up? Creeper.

“Shut up, assholes,” Dean mutters. He pushes Charlie in front of him, trying to herd her back up the hill towards the rest of camp.

She twists around to smile at him, walking backwards with effortless ease. “Don’t worry, Dean, there’ll be more battles, and there’s LARPing every weekend. I’m sure you’ll see him again.”

Walking behind them, Sam snorts. “Yeah. Too bad he thinks Dean looks like Thor.”

With dawning horror, Dean reaches up a hand to his wig - the one he had forgotten all about - and groans.

[tehstripe]

1. Lab Partners - Dave/Jade College AU

First finished work for my self-imposed AU list challenge! Based on the prompt “Wait, I actually have a competent lab partner?” from this college AU post. 

Introductory physics.

It was every Biology major's worst nightmare - a hard as hell science class (with an equally difficult lab component) that was a requirement in order to major in any science class, no matter how tangentially related. Dave knew there was a purpose for it - the pre-meds would need to know this stuff for their MCAT, which they'd need to get into a good medical school.

But Dave just wanted to be a paleontologist. He wanted to find cool dead things. He sincerely doubted that knowing the equations for the laws of motion would help him discover and name his very own dinosaur species.

(He had a name ready and picked out and everything. Hella jeffinius would be the next T. rex.)

Still, Dave would just have to endure. He would suffer through this class, get his degree, and then perhaps he could throw all of his physics papers and textbooks into a ritualistic, cleansing bonfire. Rose would probably know how to make something for him, or at least do a convincing job of making up some magic-sounding bullshit to placate him.

Though on second thought, that textbook was expensive. So maybe just the papers, while the book was sent to the ritualistic bonfire that was better known as Ebay dot com.

Dave slumped into the physics lab that fateful day of September, already dreading this entire class. A semester of a TA of unknown quality, with a bunch of other students who were only in here because it was a pre-requisite, doing experiments that didn't mean anything and praying that their data looked the way that it was supposed to. He settled in near the back of the room, picking the lab table as far from the white board as possible, and waited.

Other students began to file in, and Dave recognized many of them as being fellow Biology majors. The uppity pre-med students who were aiming to get into the bed med school took the front of the classroom, which was fine by him. They could distract the TA while he did his best to do as little as possible.

Nobody chose to sit next to him. That was fine. Dave had plenty of friends in college, but he'd met most of them through shared activities, like the semi-ironic anime club he attended with his cousin. None of said friends were also Biology majors. It wasn't much of a problem until moments like this, where he would almost certainly be getting the dregs of the lab partner coffee brew.

And sure enough, he really did get the dregs. The TA was already starting on a general introduction to himself and the course, and all of the seats except for the one right next to Dave were taken. For a moment, he was worried they'd put an odd number of people in the class, and he'd be stuck working by himself or as the third wheel to a group of three - but finally, almost fifteen minutes late, a girl with messy black hair swooped in and gratefully took the open seat next to him.

"Sorry I'm late," she whispered hurriedly. "Did I miss anything important? Probably not, right?"

"Uh..." Dave couldn't claim he'd been paying much attention. "No, I don't think so. Just intro stuff. Probably all in the syllabus."

"Okay. Great!"

Dave found himself torn between trying to be a good student and listen to the TA talk about the course and actually sizing up this new lab partner up. After another reference to the syllabus, he decided the lab partner was at least one hundred times more interesting. (Hey, maybe there was a physics equation that would let him actually calculate how much more interesting she was.)

To be honest, he didn't have high hopes. She was late, which was already a bad sign, and to make matters worse, she was digging through her backpack as though she couldn't find something. That meant disorganized, probably even a little forgetful. He'd have to pray there weren't any group projects involved in this class, then.

More interestingly, he didn't actually recognize her from any of his Biology classes, which seemed to be most of who made up the class. Did she transfer from another school? Was she in a different major? Chemistry, maybe - but then he'd suffered through Intro to Chemistry with all of them.

She was cute, at least. Big, round glasses, and her phone case was decorated in pictures of dogs and paw prints. But cute meant absolutely nothing if she failed the course and dragged him down with her.

The girl glanced to look at him, and Dave quickly looked back up front to the TA, who was continuing to blabber on about the course. He tried to pretend like he didn't notice her staring at him out of his peripheral vision. He wondered what she was thinking of him. Was she hoping that he'd pull her through the lab course, since he actually got here on time? It was hard telling.

Finally, the TA shut up and gave them their instructions. It was a simple lab today - testing to find the strength of gravity, which mostly meant dropping things while getting used to the measurement tools used in the lab. More importantly, it gave Dave a chance to talk with his new partner for the semester.

He turned to her and held out a hand to shake. She gave it a strange look for a moment before tentatively reaching out to shake it herself. Her grip was a little weak, but Dave decided he'd try not to hold that against her. "Hey," he said, giving her the ghost of a smile. "Name's Dave. Who're you? I don't remember seeing you around. Are you a transfer student?"

"My name is Jade!" she said, giving him a much more blatant smile. "And no, I'm not a transfer student. I'm a junior, actually."

His eyebrows went up a little bit. "Huh. Same as me. You a Chem major?"

Jade shook her head, and it caused her voluminous hair to go just about everywhere. God, that was a lot of hair. Dave imagined what would happen if she managed to braid it all - it could probably end up being used as a weapon that way. "No. I'm a physics major, actually!"

Dave stared at her. "Wait. No- wait. You're a physics major. And a junior. And you're taking introductory physics? Like, no offense, but something here isn't quite adding up. Like, shouldn't you be in a more advanced class by now? I thought most of the physics majors found a way out of this class."

Jade rolled her eyes. Clearly, this was a sore spot for her - Dave couldn't say he was terribly surprised. Something wasn't adding up. "Yeah, most of them are able to exempt it with a standardized test or something. But as an international student, my credits didn't transfer over, blah blah, so now I have to take an introductory physics lab to make sure I get all the necessary credits, blah blah." She sighed.

"That sounds pretty dumb," Dave said.

"It is very dumb!" Jade agreed. "But I'm here, so I might as well do my best. It should be an easy 'A', right?"

Dave cocked his head to the side. "Well. As somebody who's not a physics person, I'm not sure I'd say easy. But yeah, we can aim for an A."

Jade laughed, and god that was a good sound. Dave decided he'd like to hear a lot more of that sound. "Well, don't worry! I will help you be a physics person. I like to think I am pretty good at it, and if I'm going to get my PHD in atomic physics some day, then I need to make sure I know how to teach it, too! Maybe by the end of the term, you'll be ready to change majors?"

She gave him a wry smile, and Dave realized very suddenly that he was doomed, but not in the way he was expecting. His grade in physics was going to absolutely rule this year. He would come to every physics lab and he would do every piece of homework and study for every test.

But god. He stared at Jade, with her cute round glasses, wild bushy hair, and bright green eyes. That cute laugh and that charming smile. An IQ that was quite probably double his.

He was so fucking doomed.

[jibunjishin]

hellO

i haven’t found the spare time in forever to just make a post and catch up with myself and how i’ve BEEN

i don’t think some people understand that idk how im honestly doing until i do something like this because i just go around doing the motions of life and whatever, not really having any time to feel, so i could be doing really bad for all i know but not be able to put a pinpoint on where it’s all coming from until i sit down for a sec. and while i can’t afford the time even now to do this, it’s super important so here i am!!!!

wow im super tired!!! in a physical way, where im fighting jet lag and general insufficient sleep hours. i actually fell asleep for like 2 hours today and then thought i’d take a ‘break’ until i felt ready and i actually haven’t felt ready. the last weeks of march i went into overdrive and SOMEHOW got everything done. one of my five classes is going really poorly, i’m scoring consistently below average and it’s ruining my self confidence, self esteem, just overall belief in myself and my abilities to finish my degree??? lmao. im very fragile ANYWAYS but on the other hand, I got a 91% on a paper for my public health class and a 98.5% on my midterm for another class! (which I’m p/nping! so it DOESN’T MATTER!! HAHAHH yay. *upside down smiley emoji*)

the point is things have been mixed bad and good results, but I’m really letting the bad overtake my whole mood. and i recognize that. acknowledge it. im not sure how to change my attitude about it though. i try to say it in my head that it’s ok and maybe eventually i’ll believe it but it’s ineffective and sometimes makes me feel worse. (also my friend in the class is KICKING BUTT he’s so good the professor gives him over 100% sometimes and im like ??? I can’t even get in the IQR... ya im jealous but happy for him OBVIOUSLY but I kinda feel like my professor has decided I’m a B-/C+ student bc I keep getting kinda the same grade, even though my latest assignment was not bad?? i went to a GSI’s OH and started it early and revised and whatever but got a 1% improvement. IDK THIS IS A LONG RANT/TANGENT I’m also not trying to be salty and be like “this professor sucks he’s not giving me As” because if I don’t deserve it I’m fine with that but ok anyways moving along) the point is, things are an OK average, so why can’t i be fine with that?

it’s partially because of these bad grades, but i’m also losing motivation to do my thesis at all. and like it’s necessary to finish an ES degree. it’s literally my last requirement and I’ve done all the other classes. but I just don’t know if I want to commit a whole year to doing something I don’t want to do. I don’t think it’s that like I’m lazy or trying to get out of it just because? if that makes sense? I don’t think it’s a bad reason. I can’t find anything I want to research. we’re actually doing literal research like not a research paper. we have to write a literal mini-dissertation and shit. i’ve been a content-absorber my whole life and I just think I’m too *simple* to make a discovery. like i’m not sure if i’m GETTING ACROSS THIS CONCEPT. WE HAVE TO SPEND THE SUMMER/FALL/some of spring bc that’s when it’s due DOING LITERAL RESEARCH and this thought gives me anxiety and i’ve cried a bit over it. it’s so daunting. and I’ve tried to talk to my gsi/professor about my fears and they’re like oh it’s fun! it’ll be okay! and i’m like NO you don’t understand?? and they’re like here let’s talk about what u can do and I feel like they’re actually not getting how afraid I am of this. I don’t want to quit my major over this... I took 9 classes for this already, and it’s just one year, two semesters, six units left. but I’m just realizing how I c a n n o t do this thesis. i’m not sure what i’d do? and you can’t bullshit this like a paper. i can’t do it overnight. i have a proposal draft for this due monday and I HAVE NO FUCKING IDEA HOW TO EXECUTE THIS IDEA I HAVE BECAUSE IT’S A SHITTY IDEA and wow I honestly don’t know how people do it. I’m going to my prof’s OH again this Friday and I’m really hoping he can HELP or maybe help me find an advisor because if I am doing this, there’s no way in hell I can do it alone. I don’t want it to be a pity-thing where they’re like ‘ok let me do this for u but u can put ur name on it so u can get the hell out of school’ like I actually DO want to do it but i CAN’T and I know that���s toxic, i should be like oh yeah i can do it! think of all the other ES undergrads who’ve done it, who are doing it, who will do it!! one of them is YOU!! but i’m actually so past that stage, i’m facing the reality of this deadline coming up and it’s looking really bad. really bad. i know this post has been a huge ole complaining mess but YOU KNOW WHAT i’m being honest with how i feel, even if i’m not proud of it.

i thought i got over my anxiety!! LMAO!! im sweating and the whole shebang just from writing this and thinking about my thesis. aasasoifnva. honestly i think the worst that can happen is I get a TERRIBLE grade in this class. I don’t think I can fail??? but I was okay with getting bad grades in the chem/physics classes but this one?? it’s a major req. like literally a class for JUST ES majors in spring semester of their junior year. i’m pretty sure i’m one of the lowest grades in the class based on the number of times my groups have been getting the low L O L and it’s very sad to see that i’m the one of the worst in my cohort. but anyways it’s just super disheartening like I said earlier.

so right now i’m in between feeling like it’s a waste to stop pursuing ES and it’s just another year, 6 units(, A WHOLE THESIS) to complete the degree. on the other hand, i don’t need this degree if I want to teach ES in high school, since I’m one class and a seminar away from finishing my other major. and I will get my credential at the end of my 5 years. so I don’t NEED it because teaching ES just requires a single subject credential and a bio CSET?? I don’t need it, so why put myself through the struggle and anxiety and dread and frustration and all those other wonderful feelings of self-loathing and depression? so i’m not sure what to do. I really am not.

thanks if you even read this far to my literal 3 followers. lmao. these really help me and thanks to myself for taking the time to write it, but I should get back to reality. i’m not sure what my plans are for the rest of tonight. i can try to keep pushing through with the thesis, move on to my research paper for my geography class, or cut my losses and go to bed or read or go back on youtube. i am sure that i am tired as fuck and ready to be done. actually done.

edit: I guess the real question is: what do I do now actually? I have major advising meetings with both my advisors this friday, plus office hours with my professor. do i melt down and be like PLEASE HELP ME because I see no other way other than quitting? at this point I think that’s what it is. get help or quit. I think it’s okay to be okay with knowing I can’t do it on my own two feet. but i know if i ask for help i’ll CRY and it’ll be sad and pathetic kinda but idk IDK I JUST DON’T KNOW