#most of them are taught in English
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Scored Low in NEET UG 2025? Don’t Stress, Here's What You Can Still Do
Let’s talk honestly for a second
You prepared hard, gave the NEET exam your best shot, and now the result is in. Maybe the score wasn’t what you hoped for. We get it, it stings. But hey, you’re not alone, and more importantly, this is not the end of the road.
At Shiksha Planets, we’ve worked with so many students who thought they had “no chance,” and today? They’re in medical colleges, some in India, some abroad, all moving forward. So take a breath, you’ve got options.
What Can You Do If Your NEET Score Is Low?
1. Look Beyond Borders MBBS Abroad
Don’t let geography limit your dreams. Countries like Russia, Georgia, Uzbekistan, and the Philippines are offering quality MBBS programs that are affordable and globally recognized. And yes, most of them are taught in English, plus they’re NMC-approved.
Lots of Indian students are already there, studying well, living safely, and thriving.
2. Try Private or Deemed Universities in India
Even with a low score, you can still study in India through management or NRI quota seats. The process is confusing, yes, but that’s what we’re here for. We help simplify it, cut through the noise, and get you where you need to be.
3. Consider Other Healthcare Courses
Let’s be honest, MBBS isn’t the only way to build a career in medicine. Think about courses like BAMS, BHMS, BPT, B.Sc Nursing, or Pharmacy. They’re rewarding, respected, and in demand.
Why So Many Students Trust Shiksha Planets
We’re not here to sugarcoat anything. We tell you what’s real, and then we help you plan your next step.
Here’s how we support you:
One-on-one guidance, no scripts, just real advice
Help choosing a good college (India or abroad) that fits you
Step-by-step help with forms, documents, and the admission process
Visa and travel support for abroad options
Everything transparent, no hidden stuff, no pressure
We’ve helped students from all over India, some with scores below 200, and they’re now doing great.
Real Talk: This Is Just One Chapter
Yes, NEET didn’t go your way. But that doesn’t mean your dream is gone. It just means you’ve gotta take a different turn. And sometimes, those turns lead to even better destinations.
#Scored Low in NEET UG 2025? Don’t Stress#Here's What You Can Still Do#Let’s talk honestly for a second#You prepared hard#gave the NEET exam your best shot#and now the result is in. Maybe the score wasn’t what you hoped for. We get it#it stings. But hey#you’re not alone#and more importantly#this is not the end of the road.#At Shiksha Planets#we’ve worked with so many students who thought they had “no chance#” and today? They’re in medical colleges#some in India#some abroad#all moving forward. So take a breath#you’ve got options.#What Can You Do If Your NEET Score Is Low?#1. Look Beyond Borders MBBS Abroad#Don’t let geography limit your dreams. Countries like Russia#Georgia#Uzbekistan#and the Philippines are offering quality MBBS programs that are affordable and globally recognized. And yes#most of them are taught in English#plus they’re NMC-approved.#Lots of Indian students are already there#studying well#living safely#and thriving.#2. Try Private or Deemed Universities in India
0 notes
Text
i had my performance review today and apparently my team said so many nice things about me and my job drives me up a fucking wall but also, i get to make 8 peoples' lives better by forcing them all to take vacation so
#i really love managing and it feels really good to have confirmation FROM MY DIRECTS that i am good at kt#bcs theyre the people whose opinions matter#just a nice feeling to know they feel safe and empowered and that ive helped them feel that way#my boss also had nice things to say about the other stuff i do but#the team management is most important#SHE TAUGHT HIGH SCHOOL ENGLISH now she manages PhDs and AI scientists lmao#life will take you on a wild journey#jillpost
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
not to "nirvana isn't a clothing brand" but three people said they liked my "lodded dipper" shirt
#to be fair#most of our customers genuinely can't read nor write#ask for their name and they draw a bunch of squiggles#the word 'debito' scares the english speakers because what the hell could that new word possibly mean#yknow how people memorize words as pictures when they aren't taught how to find stem words?#that's what's causing this problem. 'debito' is a completely different photo to 'debit'#bonus points if they're wearing lulu lemon and make you do the math for the transaction for them#and those are all people with ACCESS TO EDUCATION. now think about how that's such a small percentage of the US rn#anyways#diary of a wimpy kid#löded diper#rodrick heffley#not my rodrick#literature#reading comprehension
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
Barry knows Italian and Spanish and finds learning languages fascinating, especially learning true slang
Rafe I think would rather die than listen to someone try to teach him more than a couple words cause he finds it so boring and pointless.
#I think the only foreign language word that isnt the most basic of basics Rafe remembers is 'tranquillo'#and only cause Barry taught him it and he now uses it to self-soothe when he's getting bad mentally#Sofia and Barry sometimes speak spanish to each other just to have secret conversations and annoy Rafe#Sofia acts fake offended when he tells them to speak english so he can understand them#someone tell Rafe that if he wants to get good at business then he might wanna learn more than just english lol#🪲#obx fandom#barry obx#obx#rafe obx#sofia obx#outer banks#outerbanks rafe#rafe cameron#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron outer banks#barry outer banks#sofia outer banks#obx headcanon#outer banks hc#barrafe#barry x rafe#rafe x barry
46 notes
·
View notes
Text
BLUE EXORCIST FANS
im here to show you:

baby yukio and shiemi
#this is from salaryman exorcist#once again more propaganda for salary man exorcist the sorrows of yukio okumura go read it NOW#the translations got picked up after like....... 10 years probably and its slowly filling in missing chapters but its still out of order#ill take what i can get tho its a gag manga the only thing order does it coincide with the actually blue exorcist manga#tho there are some 2 part chapters where the first part is missing unfortunately#anyway this chapter is about how middle school yukio accidently taught shiemi to say 'dog shits in public' in english#OH if someone remembers from before when i was listing my favoite chapters i really like the one where they go to play pool#and yukio just makes up the rules cuz he doesnt know them but they all expect him to#really makes him look like an idiot i love him#i also like bon's birthday chapter but idk ive already brought that up#its prolly why i bring up salaryman exorcist in passing the most cuz its what i associate with kinzou shima#him trying to fucking murder shima in cops and robbers with a giant ass rock#anyway none of this is actually important#blue exorcist#ao no exorcist#yukio okumura#shiemi moriyama#salaryman exorcist
25 notes
·
View notes
Text
wait i was wondering if Dr. Gaul's name was in reference to Charles de Gaul, like gaulism, like 'if we want to avoid another wwii we have to have a strong france not reliant on allies' guy (so like, nationalism. just specific)
so like i googled just "gaul" to see if that was what came up or something else
gaul was an ancient way of referring to like that whole region? like france and others? like charles de gaul leader of france in ww2 was named like
Chuck from Here?
#ballad of songbirds and snakes#upon googling turns out it's spelled charles de gaulle#still you get my point#are most of the other names roman? i was listening to the audiobook idk how they're spelled#maybe part of the function of dr gauls name is setting her apart?#she's playing a whole different game than the rest of the people with power in the capitol#like they're focused on the survival and wealth and position of their family legacies#she's focused on perpetuating her ideals. her doctrine. her worldview#wish i could remember which part of the book made me think of the tabula rasa thing. wasn't that a french philosopher?#i could google that but anyway like blank slate. humanity not sinful at birth but tainted by society. is that what snow was?#that her ideology of humanity's baser urges towards violence in desperation was something that was printed onto him?#oh john locke not french guy english#anyway maybe it was something snow said or ah shit how do i not remember her name. grey#is it lucy? i just keep wanting to say jane grey but i think that's a different tragic figure#anyway point was that from gauls view only snow and other capitol elite are clean white blank from birth if anyone is#but human nature or panem culture or history or whatever teaches them violence?#or the opposite? that using kids in the games means they don't have to be taught violence that even with a blank slate it's innate?#i'm on a whole tangent here i have half a mind to delete all these tags but we#i don't have an english class to discuss these books in someone tell me how im wrong and fulfill the itch for Discussion
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
*through gritted teeth* what the fuck do people want from a resume
#this semester i've had three different people look at my resume and all three of them were like contradicting whatever the other person said#one said add references. the other said don't add references. the other said no add them back in#one said add color. one said only do black & white. one said no you should have color#also in terms of content they all differed as well like. guys i just want to get this fucking internship so i can get out of here#i appreciate the feedback but i think it's made me more stressed in the long run#alex’s inane ramblings#plus just now finding out im gonna need to do a fucking seminar probably in addition to my internship unless i want to do 4 credits of#internship. i fucking hate seminars. and it's taught by my advisor who i like. but he knows how fucking quiet i am and calls me out on it o#the daily. which gets on my fucking nerves let me tell you#im the most non-english-major english major to ever exist#don't make me talk. please dear god don't make me talk#plus in this seminar we would be writing a 20 page paper. on american romance lit.#sorry dr. phillis but that sounds godawful#and if i decide to do the seminar it conflicts with another class i need to take so id have to talk to my graphic design advisor about maki#a substitution#hell on earth. why the fuck is graduating so goddamn hard#i don't have enough credits to be staying an extra semester so i have to get this all wrapped up by december#alright im gonna shut up now. college is hard guys
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
I may be an English Creative Writing major but I Suck at Grammar and Editing and Spelling.
I'm a creative!!! Not a spell checker!!!
#Most of my English classes did not teach me about spelling and grammar.#A lot of them taught me about themes and theory and that sort of thing#character motivations and what have you#The CREATIVE part of writing not the GRAMMAR and EDITING part of writing#I cry at stupid grammar rules that don't make sense to me#AAAA
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
throwback to the last time we had a speaking assignment with T before he left, and he wrote in my feedback:
"I am very impressed by your growing confidence; it is leading to an interesting and idiosyncratic style which suits you."
I don't know why but it was so so sweet.
#it felt so special#he saw me as an individual not just any student#do you know that feeling when everything you've achieved in a subject is in some way their doing?#when you developed a style because they taught it and because you worked so hard to perfect it to make them proud?#aside from the blatant attraction the most important part of my story with T was the journey he gave me in English#T#tc#tc community#teacher crush#male tc#tc memories
15 notes
·
View notes
Text
IPKKND HEART TO HEART CONVO-(1/n)
It was a nice Sunday morning. Arnav was laying on his bed lazily, half asleep, with his hands folded behind his head. Khushi was, fresh out of the shower, getting ready for the day.
Khushi (quietely inching towards the bed) : Arnavji...? Aap so rahe hain kya...?
Arnav (already squinting at her with sleepy eyes and ruffled hair) : Khushi tum mujhese 'ji'-'aap' karke kyun baat karti ho...? Maine tumse kaha hai na that you are my equal. Tum me aur mujhme koi difference nahi hai.
Khushi (a knowing smile on her face, sat down beside him) : Yeh toh aapka baddappan hai Arnavji, joh aap humse aisa keh rahe hain.( You are being modest, Arnavji.)
Khushi : Hum aapse aise baat isiliye karte hain kyunki hum aapka samman karte hain. Humari nazron mein aapka kad bohot uncha hai.
Khushi : Hum jaante hain ki aap humein apna baraabar maante hain. Lekin aap nahi jaante ki aap humein jaan-anjaane mein kitna kuch sikha dete hain. Aap bhale hi kehte ho ki aap bhagwan mein vishwas nahi rakhte par humne apni puri zindagi mein aapke jaisa, nek insaan, aaj tak nahi dekha hai, joh apne aap ko nastik (atheist) kehta ho.
Arnav : But Khu-
*She placed her index finger on his lips*
Khushi : Hum jaante hain ki aapko purani baatein yaad karne ka koi shauk nahi hai par aaj humein bolne dijiye Arnavji. Aap humesha humein chup kara dete hain par aaj hum bolenge aur aap sunenge.
Khushi : Aaj hum aapko batana chahte hain ki hum aapki itni izzat kyun karte hain.
Khushi : Hum samajhte hain ki aapke liye kisi par bharosa karna kitna mushkil hai. Humein ab samajh mein aata hai ki, aap par kya beeti hogi, jab aapko yeh laga ki, jis ladki se aap pyaar karte hain, usne aapki zindagi ke sabse ahem insaan ke saath, dhoka karne ki koshish ki hai.
Khushi : Beshak tab aapke paas hum par vishwas karne ki koi vajah hi nahi thi kyunki tab hum aapke liye koi nahi the.
*Arnav knew where this was going and closed his eyes to steel himself*
Khushi : Hum jaante hain ki, har roz aap apne aap ko koste (curse) honge. Aapko lagta hoga ki, na aap Di ki raksha kar paaye aur na hi aap, humari vajah se, humare liye, apne aap ko, rakshas banne se rok paaye. Aapne kabhi socha hi nahi hoga ki, jis ladki se aap itna pyaar karte hain uski, nazron mein aapko itna niche girna hoga, ki aap apne aap se bhi nazrein nahi mila payenge.
*Arnav slowly starting to get teary-eyed, turned his face away from her, to hide it*
Khushi : Hum jaante hai ki hum galat nahi the phir bhi humare saath galat hua par hum yeh bhi jaante hain ki aapko bhi utna hi jhelna para tha. Hum samajhte hain ki aapko kitni ghutan hui hogi. Chahte hue bhi aap hum par vishwas kar hi nahi paaye honge.
*She laid her head on his chest with tears rolling down her face*
*Arnav slowly starting to sob, placed his hands softly on the back of her head, caressing her hair gently*
Khushi (speaking through her shaky voice) : Hum jaante hain ki aapko kitna dard hua hoga, ki aap hum se kitna pyaar karte hain, ki aapne hum par vishwas kiya aur humein mauka diya, humare pyaar ko apnaya.
*She started crying bitterly, shaking, trembling against his chest*
*Fresh tears, big and hot, rolled down his face as he took in her words*
He gently pulled her upright, sat up and wrapped his arms around her tightly, eyes shut, tears flowing continuously, his body trembling with the weight of the emotions, that her words held.
****Both of them sobbed for several minutes, calmed down gradually****
Khushi (wiped her tears, sniffing) : Isiliye jab hum aapke pair chune ke liye jhukte hain, toh aap humein roka mat kijiye.
Arnav (wiping his tears, look at her, pursing his lips) : Theek hai. Lekin SIRF tumhare liye.
Khushi (grinned) : Wada kijiye humse! (extended her palm)
Arnav (held her hand, smiling) : I promise, Khushi. Tumhare liye, kuch bhi.
Khushi : Hum bhi na! Ek hi din aap chutti par ghar-pe hote hain aur woh bhi hum roh-dho ke barbaad kar rahe hain.
She stood up hurriedly to complete drying her hair with the towel and placed it on the recliner.
Arnav : Tum chah kar bhi mera waqt barbaad nahi kar paogi, Khushi. (Note- *cue* when he had said something similar but very different to La, in her intro epi)
He made his bed, hung the towel on his shoulder and walked to the bathroom.
Few minutes later....
Khushi (to Garima, smiling dreamily) : Amma, aapko pata hai! Humare Arnavji duniya ke sabse acche pati the, hain aur humesha rahenge....
So.....I tried this one in Hindi....shall I...umm...is it better in English..? I don't even know... Also I don't know if I am allowed to casually tag people here or not. But I wanna thank them as well...so..
Phati-Sari, Jalebi-weds-bluetooth, Paobhaji, chutkiandchotte, onadaanparindey, dimaagkadahi, kashmakash, arnavsinghraizada, laadgovernorandsankadevi, pakki-ya-nahin and all the other IPK fans as well..
Mentioning all of you here because I have huge amount of gratitude to all of you, in some way or the other, I owe you the entertainment that I have received and enjoyed from all of your content and that too for...um...FREE!?!?! I can never thank all of you enough for all that you have done and are still doing for us IPK kids. So, I am trying to do something close to what all of you have done... THank you from the bottom of my heart.
#ipkknd#arnav and khushi#arnav singh raizada#khushi kumari gupta#iss pyaar ko kya naam doon#My guru maas and paas y'all#i got inspired from them and their creations#want to pay a tribute for their contribution in feeding us(parched and starved souls) even after so many years#i iz thankphul to them#i iz lob them#wanna met and give them the tightest hug to them#damn the helplessness#okay so i wrote it becoz this is the reason why I never found- Khushi calling him as Arnavji and wanting to touch his feet- problematic#coz its out of the sheer respect that she has for him#its not due to any obligation nor any sign of patriarchy#she respects him a lot#and i also know that Arnav won't puff out with patriarchal thoughts#becoz his love for Khushi is the most supreme for him he would never think of himself as superior to her#coz he thinks she taught him to live again#he is a feminist without having the urge to spell it out#he is a man of actions he will show rather than scream out- I am a feminist.#This also explains why Khushi said the line mohabbat hi humara dharam hai#aur Arnavji humare bhagwan (probably said this in her head#Tell me - Hindi or English?
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
my paper is done! now i just need to write another by friday!
#the next one should be both easier and harder#easier because it's just a personal essay so no external sources requires#required*#harder because it's for my grammar class and the prompt is to reflect on our experiences learning formal grammar in the past#which like. im not sure yet but i might just write about how i didn't pay any attention in english class like. ever lmao#ik they taught us formal grammar in like k12 or whatever i just literally never paid attention or took notes#it's part of gifted kid syndrome i think bc i read a lot of books and just kinda figured out a lot of complicated grammar rules on my own#and then i scored well on tests and then no one ever felt the need to actually teach it to me#to this day like. i can tell i've had way less formal instruction in writing than most of the other kids in this class#and yet im also a better writer than them because i've done way more actual writing#i just kinda figured out all the shit that they have extensive notes on & know the words for#this is the exact opposite of how i am in music classes lmaoooo#so much theoretical knowledge and yet im a pretty mediocre singer#we all have our strengths and weaknesses <3#bri babbles
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
re my last reblog. i will say one of my proudest moments was when i was 16 and i was put in a new situation and did not panic and dealt with it on my own (HUGE deal for me) 😎 one of my most shameful was weeks after when i Did get written instructions and Still panicked and it Did go wrong. duality of me
#it was my first day at school on my semester abroad speaking english and I only knew my host sister#she was supposed to take me to school and teach me the way and introduce me to ppl#she slept through her alarm and i couldn't wake her up ❤️#i also didn't have data and i hadn't explored the neighborhood so i was completely lost ❤️❤️#i went to the main road and asked the first kids i saw w the uniform to help me get there 😭#i can't remember how i knew or how i got there but there was a welcome ceremony for new students#i was late so i walked in and sat next to like. 12 year old kids and it was so confusing#and in the middle of it the international students who were up front walked out and i RAN towards them#and i was good after that!!! but I'm honestly proud of how i handled it 😭 I'm scared to ask for napkins at restaurants#i never went out alone before that!!!! and i did all that!!!!!!!#most shameful moment was when my host parents left us alone for a couple days and taught us how to use the house alarm#i used to go home w my host sister but she went to the mall so i just came in on my own#but the code didn't work 😭😭 and the alarm went off and I couldn't figure out how to turn it off and it was so loud#so i just closed the door and ran away while it kept ringing through the suburb HFKSJSJ#i called my host sister CRYING asking for her help and she was still nearby so a couple minutes later we went back and she just#put in the code and did EXACTLY WHAT I TRIED TO DO and it shut off 😭😭#OH AND while i was running away i could hear a police siren JDJWJ i felt like a fugitive#our neighbor was there and i explained still v upset and i just remember her saying#''oh poor sausage''#locked myself in my room the rest of the weekend ❤️
0 notes
Text
Because learning English phonetics... teaches you how to pronounce French names?
learning that apparently several hundred people have been pronouncing 'miette' as 'mighty' has actively worsened my day

#I've always pronounced it more like me-Et/me-yEt but I can absolutely see why people would get other pronunciations#including 'mighty' even if it's not what i personally probably would have guessed if I hadn't thought it was me-Et#I'm pretty sure if you followed phonetic rules for English it'd be pronounced meet/meat...#which granted is closer than mighty but *still*#also idk in my experience people whose first/only language is English do tend to recognize when a name is Probably Not English#and realize that our pronunciation/phonetic rules are unlikely to get us to the correct pronunciation and so we're left with guessing#at the rules of a language we probably don't know in the slightest#like I agree the us education system has many an issue#it was bad when I was in gradeschool and it's bad now#but as someone who was taught phonics. that shit did not teach us to pronounce non-English words and names#hell it didn't even teach us how to pronounce a BUNCH of english words and names like. come on now#do you know how many times we heard ''this word doesn't follow the rules''? (btw the answer is ''more often than we heard it DOES'')#yeah learning phonics is so important but learning and knowing The Rules doesn't mean learning and knowing exactly when to apply them#it's kinda a guessing game that you just... have to learn over time from experience on a word-by-word basis#(and yk. this ''explanation'' assumes most of the people voting are from the us and went to gradeschool in the us public system etc#which is entirely *possible* I guess but unless I've missed something that's quite an assumption)#public education system* (or other us education systems I guess. who knows what goes on in private and charter schools? I sure dont)#anyway.
34K notes
·
View notes
Text
EDIT
This has gotten a lot of traction so I’m gonna be rude and say that if anyone here has the means, that my spouse and I need help to not be homeless and hungry.
my paypal is [email protected]
END EDIT
———
I was discussing the incident mentioned later in this piece with my wife yesterday and I saw another post by someone earlier doing something mentioned in here and I'm finally going to say something about it.
There is a serious problem in leftist spaces, especially online, especially on Tumblr, when it comes to language.
The way people are expected to speak just to even enter these spaces is incredibly complex, to the point of being outright hostile to those who haven’t already spent time in them. And it’s not just newcomers; people who have important things to say, people speaking from lived experiences, people who don’t have English as a first language but still deserve to be heard, are constantly talked down to or even pushed out entirely for not using the "right" words.
This gets even worse when you factor in how often new terms are coined in English, and then people are shamed for not immediately knowing or using them.
I saw someone reblog their own post saying something like, "I know for a fact more than half of y’all didn’t understand a fucking word I said here."
And honestly? That stuck with me, because yeah, I’ve felt that before. Not because I don’t value critical thinking! because I absolutely do! I just made a post on that too! but because so many of these posts are written in a way that makes them Functionally Inaccessible to anyone who doesn’t already have the right background knowledge. And at a certain point, if you actually want your words to have an impact, if you actually want to create meaningful change, then you’re going to have to accept some things:
People will not always use perfect language.
2. People will not always know the exact terminology you personally prefer they use when engaging in discourse.
3. Dismissing or attacking people for how they say something, instead of engaging with what they’re saying, is actively harmful.
And more than that, if you genuinely want people to understand and engage with the things you’re talking about, especially people who don’t speak English as a first language, especially people without access to higher education, especially people who don’t even know where to begin when it comes to self-education (because yes, that is a skill that has to be taught) then you are going to have to be the one to adjust sometimes. You are going to have to let people say things imperfectly. You are going to have to take a step back and engage with the message rather than just the words being used to express it.
One of the experiences that made me realize that I, as a non-native English speaker, was not welcome in Tumblr leftist spaces was when I spoke about real-life oppression I had experienced. I left one word out of my post, a word which honestly, was not even important when talking about an incident that had Happened To Me, not theory, not hypotheticals or any what-ifs of oppression, a story, a story about something that happened to me.
And because of that, people sat in a Discord server, picking apart my words, accusing me of awful things, and then came into my askbox throwing jargon and buzzwords I’d never even heard before, then got mad at me for being frustrated that this was happening.
Think about that. People who are directly impacted by oppression are being pushed out of spaces meant to discuss it because the way they speak doesn’t conform to certain expectations. That is not justice. That is not solidarity. That is not progress.
There is a fundamental disconnect here between theory and praxis. Ironically so many of you do not know what praxis is, because most of you engage with a lot of theory, and not a lot of praxis, you use the word praxis a lot, but, ironically, you have no idea what it means.
{to put my money where my mouth is, it means Doing Something, in the simplest possible terms}
In theory, leftist spaces should be accessible. They should be places where people can speak openly about their experiences, learn from each other, and work toward meaningful change. But in practice? There’s a gatekeeping of language so intense that many people, particularly those who are marginalized in ways beyond just their political beliefs, are outright excluded.
And this is something I need people to sit with: The assumption that the "right" language is easy to learn, or that anyone who doesn’t use it is being willfully ignorant, is an inherently privileged stance. Knowing where to find information, how to process it, and how to integrate new terminology into your vocabulary is a skill that is largely tied to education. Having the time to engage with leftist literature and theory, to stay up-to-date on every new term that gets introduced, is also a privilege. And the fact that so many people refuse to acknowledge this, that they expect perfect articulation from everyone, regardless of background, and punish those who don’t measure up, is a huge problem.
Worse still, the same people who act as gatekeepers of this language often fail to communicate their ideas in a way that is accessible at all.
This doesn’t mean that complex ideas should never be discussed. It doesn’t mean that people shouldn’t strive for accuracy in their language. But it does mean that if your goal is to educate, if your goal is to spread awareness, if your goal is to help people understand and join the movement, if your goal is to engage with fellow oppressed people, then you have a responsibility to meet people where they are. You have a responsibility to make your language understandable.
Because if people can’t even process what you’re saying, then what’s the fucking point?
And before anyone says, "Well, people should put in the effort to learn!" Let me make something very clear: They do.
People who are new to leftist spaces, or who are coming in from different linguistic and cultural backgrounds, are often trying their best to engage. They are listening, they are learning, they are processing. But if the response to every mistake, every slightly off phrasing, every unfamiliarity with a new term, is immediate hostility,
or even if it's just 'hey I see you're sharing a personal moment, but can you change your language to make me, personally, more comfortable with you discussing your oppression?' then you’re not teaching.
You’re just making sure only the people who already think and speak exactly like you get to stay in the room.
Your language, your terminology, your theory? none of it means anything if you can’t make it accessible to the people who actually need it. And it means nothing if you use it to Exclude rather than Include.
9K notes
·
View notes
Text
Duolingo being like “this is the 15th time you’ve misspelled this word, you’re on thin ice” and my ass is fucking crying because I probably have dyslexia but didn’t get diagnosed as a kid and now I’m being reminded of it all over again when trying to learn another language for the first time since highschool
#emma posts#I am just very bad at spelling and making sentences in other languages. I am sorry#I think this is also why I keep forgetting Spanish stuff#even though my first Spanish class was in the first year of first grade (I got held back) and I got the Spanish teacher for second grade#she switched from Spanish teacher to second grade teacher but would give her students lessons#and then took a class in middle school#and it’s the language I’m most exposed to after English#this might sound weird but learning about the history of Germanic languages including Norwegian and English has actually made it slightly#easier to learn Norwegian but I’m still doing worse than I’d like and couldn’t contribute to a conversation#why is making new sentences so much harder than figuring out someone else’s?#it’s sort of like physics class was except I actually want to do this and I’m not in school#I don’t even want to think about trying to learn a language outside of the ones in the pie family#I think I’d die before succeeding and that’s not something I would use much anyway compared to the ones I’m interested in#I don’t think knowing two Icelandic words and some snack names before I started school counts as being bilingual 😅#I’m just sad my grandparents weren’t speaking their other languages by the time I was born#my mom’s parents weren’t even taught much Icelandic by their parents#but my dad’s parents were bi (or tri) lingual as kids#and both of my parents had taken classes on at least one other languages before I was born but didn’t use them so they forgot#what was this post about again?
1 note
·
View note
Text
Project: Get Over Bob (2)
pairing. Bob Reynolds x reader
synopsis. Bob likes someone that’s not you and now its up to you to carry on Project Get Over Bob.
warnings. Mentions of suicide (vagueish), mentions of child abuse and forms of non-physical self-harm, mentions of drugs :( Bob just struggling a lot with life but reader and the team are there to make it better even if it’s just a bit. Lots of angst and no comfort… Yet. Also, a bit of kissing. I may have made reader english unintentionally :) expansion of readers relationship with the team!! The Void and a little?bit of the Sentry make an appearance.
word count. 6.5k
Notes at the end of this chapter
part 1.
Phase: Bob?
Robert Reynolds grew up like a dog, held taught at the neck, beaten into submission for the hell of it. He'd spent 29 years running from the cage he grew up in.
From backwater towns to unkind cities, across borders and oceans, he was always searching for his next high.
And every time he found it and crashed, he crashed harder.
All of his misfortune had led him to Kuala Lumpur. What better place, he thought, for cheap meth and good food?
Not that he could afford either once he landed. His so-called "working holiday" quickly devolved into sleepless nights and cheap motel rooms.
The lab was a nightmare, and the splitting of his mind it hurt, it hurt so much. But none of that pain could compare to the guilt.
The sickening knowledge that he'd hurt people.
That he'd become the thing he feared.
His father had always told him: Violence is in your blood. One day, you'll understand it's not cruelty—it’s survival. Bob had spent his life trying to prove him wrong, only to fail.
Waking up in the vault was terrifying. But that fear was eclipsed by the feeling of something stronger, the opportunity of a real life.
A final chance.
He regarded it as the single most important moment of his life. Sure, getting the sentry serum was life-changing. But he’d give it up in a heartbeat if it meant keeping what he had now.
And you were there the day it all started.
You weren’t a child assassin like Yelena, or a phasing shadow like Ava, or a walking weapon like Alexei, Bucky, or Walker. But you moved with purpose. Precision. That quiet intensity set you apart. You weren’t the strongest in the vault. But took twice as many hits as you dealt and got up three times as fast.
Now, in the tower, most of Bob’s nights were spent with you. He’d perch himself on your sofa, fingers picking at the frayed threads along the armrest, eyes blurred but never closed. You’d talk about everything. The strange weather patterns, Alexei’s obsession with marketing, the new taco shop opening downstairs—mundane things, your voice soft and steady, trying to anchor him.
The room always felt smaller when you were there. Your presence was a warmth that filled every corner, something he could almost reach out and hold if he wasn’t so afraid of breaking it somehow.
But even you couldn’t keep the thoughts out.
The silence between your words gave them space. The darkness of the room fed them. And the safety you offered made them bolder.
“I wish I’d died in Sarasota.” he said one night.
Your head snapped toward him, eyes wide with a fear he hadn’t expect.
“Hey—no, no. Please don’t say that, Robert.” you moved closer ��“Please just- just look at me.”
Your hand cupped his face, fingertips grazing the edge of his jaw, soft and trembling.
It wasn’t romantic.
It wasn’t sexual.
It was a safe feeling touch, he’d always wanted that.
You always gave it to him.
“Look, I won’t tell you that you can’t feel like this, it wouldn’t be right for me to say that. But you’ve been working so hard to unpack your issues and work at them, please, please just give yourself the credit you deserve.”
He blinked up at you, fighting the urge to look away.
“Most people go their whole lives never even trying to unpack their pain,” you continued, voice low but unwavering. “But you—you’re facing it. That’s brave.”
And for a moment.
The void inside him seemed to shrink that bit smaller.
Being at the tower felt freer than the life of a nomad he’d adopted for the past 7 years. There were still plenty of rules, curfews, schedules and therapy sessions—but the structure gave him purpose. It kept his mind and body active.
Every morning, Yelena would bang on his door like a madman.
“Make sure you grab your coffee ~” she’d call through the door, already bounding halfway down the hall by the time he’d have opened his eyes.
There, he’d find you with your back turned, shuffling through the music on your phone, tapping your foot lightly to the beat. He’d reach over and grab two cups for you both before heading out for a run in Central Park with Yelena, well, he’d be attempting to run, but that was besides the point.
He’d run beside Lena, wheezing through half-finished stories about old jobs or nights he barely remembered. She’d hit back with tales from the Red Room. They were always darker, sometimes sad, but she was a master of comedy so he’d be barking out laughs between gasps for air the whole way.
Once she was finished torturing him he’d head back to the tower to meet Ava in the lab.
She was helping him work toward his GED—something he’d started years ago, then abandoned when life got too loud. Now, with all the time and resources in the world, he thought it would be a good time to start again.
Ava was the best teacher he could ask for.
She never rolled her eyes when he forgot how to do something, never laughed when he misread something aloud.
Her teaching was patient and kind.
She wasn’t much of a talker, which was a given with her solitary upbringing, but that was fine with him. They’d spend time in comfortable silence, with Bob occasionally breaking it to ask a question. Both of them used to the quiet, neither of them quite understood what normal looked like but their quiet friendship fulfilled them both.
After finishing up with his work, Bucky would usually steal him away for sparring.
“You keep dropping your guard.” he’d grunt, tossing Bob onto the mat for the fifth time in the past ten minutes.
“I don’t have a guard.” Bob would mutter, staring up at the ceiling begging someone, anyone for a break.
He hated physical exercise.
The sentry serum had made Bob invincible and while he didn’t feel any pain, his frustration was with his lack of ability.
His strength was absolute, his body impenetrable, but, he wanted to be able to move around with the same grace and stealth that the others did.
Bucky pushed him harder than anyone else.
But it never felt cruel.
It was focused and encouraging.
Like he was his older brother who believed in him enough to never go easy.
You’d sometimes be there too, just out of sight in the adjacent room. You’d be reviewing mission footage or deep in a debrief.
Bob liked it better when you weren’t watching. Not because he didn’t want you there, he just preferred to keep his exploits or lack thereof between the senator and himself instead.
Dinner was one of the best parts of his day.
Sitting at the dinner table didn’t involve endless lectures or threats of harm. Alexei and John would always be the first ones at the table, seated across from him like some sort of strange uncle-nephew trio. They weren’t constantly at each others throats but when they were it was way more entertaining for him.
John always had a dumb joke ready but Alexei managed to always have a weirder one. Half the time, they would argue about whether Kramer vs Kramer was a Christmas movie or if John had browned the butter well enough for the banana bread.
“Why do you even eat potatoes like this?” Alexei would say, stabbing one with his fork “It is so dry, no soul.”
“You’re literally Russian dude?!!” John would shoot back his voice raising an octave.
“Russia has great food, you know my father-”
Bob was definitely not listening to the rest of that. But he would smile and finish his meal with a warmth in his heart and that’s all that mattered.
You and Bob would take your daily walks after dinner.
The city was quieter at night.
Well, New York never really was, but it was quieter in the way Bob liked. Just a low rumble of traffic in the distance and the occasional click of footsteps as you both aimlessly wandered.
Bob chuckled at your retelling of your siblings meeting Ava for the first time. His smile lingered even after you’d finished talking, it was a strange one. It felt like he was half-sincere and half-lost in thought. His steps slowed and he turned to you, “You’re one of my best friends, y’know, just thought I’d tell you.” said more like a question than a statement.
You smiled. “That’s why you’ve been looking constipated this entire walk?”
He huffed a laugh, but his face still has a serious look “I mean it. It’s not just because we have to live together or mission stuff. You’re always there for me even when I’ve been hard to be around.”
“Bob, you’ve never been hard to be around, ever.”
He didn’t respond right away. His jaw flexed and eyes fixed somewhere past your shoulder.
“I guess I-I just keep thinking” voice low “That I’m this ticking time bomb. Like the more time you guys spend with me, the quicker I’ll blow up a fuse and hurt you all.”
You were quiet for a second. Then you said, “You ever think that maybe we don’t need protecting from you? That having you around is so good that we’d be willing to keep the Void at bay forever? I would go through hundreds of rooms for you Robert, every damn day if I had to, I’m sure the others would too.”
You didn’t say anything else, and he stared at you for a moment before sputtering out that it was late and you both should head back. He really hoped you hadn’t noticed how red his ears were.
Bob thought that maybe you liked him the way he liked you.
But he decided to push silly thoughts like that away. You would have said that to everyone.
It wasn’t that Bob himself didn’t like you; he just felt as though pursuing you would be another Malaysia. He would somehow grip your light so tightly that it would burn only you, leaving him at the centre of yet another massacre. And Bob was far too kind, he cared for you far too much to doom you to a life of walking on eggshells.
He would get over you. And he knew just what to have to start his journey.
A sweet treat.
Bob didn’t plan on finding the bookstore.
He was walking to find a new dessert place, the serum left him with a serious sweet tooth.
Bob liked walking on Main Street. Sure, there was always a major risk of him literally destroying everyone in the city if the transdimensional being in him escaped but, the feeling off blending in and being normal was worth the risk.
He walked for another ten minutes before he saw it.
The bookstore that you were always raving about. You had begged the whole team to come with you, rambling on about the idea of a book club in preparation for the new Christopher Nolan film, but your pleading had been interrupted by Mel informing them all they had press to finish up.
He decided he’d go in and find you something, that should cheer you up.
Bob wandered into the store, trailing his fingers along the many books, stopping only when he'd collected too much dust for his nose to handle. It reminded him of a place he’d hidden out in once, years ago.
Different city.
Different Bob.
“You looking for anything specific?” came a voice.
He turned and saw her.
A short woman with long loose waves nestled into a bun, a pencil sticking out of her pocket and reading glasses hanging around her neck. She looked at him cheekily and something about the intensity of her gaze flustered him.
“I’m-I’m not really sure, I’m looking for a friend but I have no idea what she would want.” he replied honestly, scratching the back of his neck.
She smiled, “Those are the best kinds of searches.”
Their first conversation was short. She’d recommended some kind of fantasy novel.
He’d bought it and you were so happy that you spent the next two weeks singing Bob's praises to anyone and everyone.
That included Lily.
Bob came back the next week to pick something else out. And the week after that.
And each time, Lily was there with a new recommendation. With questions about what he liked, how he was doing, how you were doing.
Sometimes they talked for a minute.
Sometimes ten.
Bob never told her who he really was, nothing about the Thunderbolts stuff, though he was sure she knew.
Just said his name was Bob and that he was working on “getting his life together”.
She never pried. Never asked why his hands sometimes shook, or why his eyes would occasionally glow. She always spoke to him gently and laughed at his shitty attempts at jokes in a way that made him feel like maybe he was just a guy in a bookstore.
Someone normal.
One day, he decided to be brave, “You ever uh free for a coffee?” he'd asked, the words almost catching in his throat.
“As in to drink it? Or are you asking me out?” she looked surprised.
Shit, she looked like she was freaked out, he almost backed off right then, but he decided to push through. He nodded “Yeah yeah uh the second one.”
She studied his face - not judgmental, just thoughtful - “Okay, yeah sure, but be warned I’m coming in hot off the back of an awful relationship. Like the guy was Loki levels of out of his mind, I may go crawling back.” she joked.
Bob smiled.
“Here. Take my number.”
Once outside with her number tucked safely into his breast pocket, he took a moment to take in a breath.
He thought about you for a second, your smile, your voice and he felt guilty, but you didn’t like him. It was ok for him to move on and he was sure you’d support him putting himself out there.
Right?
Phase 3
Phase 3 was not feeling as easy as you’d predicted it would be.
Not thinking of Bob was difficult. He engulfed your every thought, every second of the day seemed to stretch out further than you thought possible when you worked on any task that didn’t include Bob.
Even sleep didn’t offer a break.
In your dream, Bob appeared doe-eyed, curls falling over his face and his skin glowing. Your hands were roaming his body and his breath was hot against the shell of your ear. He was calm and collected, his movements slow as he cradled you tightly to his chest.
His head turned to you, his lips inching closer to your face and then all at once pressed against yours. His head angled to the right to swipe his tongue against your bottom lip, the action causing you to gasp and heat to bloom in your chest.
As your hands began to reach for his face, they fell through, jolting you awake. Your bed cushioning your movements didn’t stop your face from hitting the side of the bed frame.
You’d never made out with anyone before, so how the hell did the kiss feel so real.
“What the hell?”
Huffing you drag yourself to the bathroom, you find Bucky there brushing his teeth. You say nothing to greet him and the strangeness of your silence isn’t lost on him.
He offers a smile as he makes his way out of your shared space, he’ll bother you later once he brings back a red velvet from the store near his and Steve’s old place in Brooklyn.
Remind yourself to get an electric toothbrush, this one is struggling to withstand the force of your anger as you scrape each tooth with all of your strength.
You were doing so well to not fall back into thinking of Bob.
So why did this dream have to screw everything up?
By the time you’re done damaging your enamel it’s time for another hellish sparring session with John.
Good Lord, you were not in the mood.
You unwillingly tread down to the gym, smelling the clinical bleach mats before you round the corner.
The gym always smelled like sweat, chemical cleaner, and testosterone — basically John's cologne. You pushed the door open hard, making it slam against the frame making John jump from the noise and trip over the weight in front of him. Wait did that weight say 2000kg holy shit-
“What crawled up your ass?” he barked, startled but recovering quickly.
“Nothing. Just thought I’d get a bit of payback. You ready?” He smirked.
The mat is thick beneath your bare feet, cold and spongy. Walker stands a few feet away, stretching out his legs, the muscles in his arms rolling under his shirt. For someone so impossibly strong he sure was wirey looking.
Captain America, my ass. You reminded yourself he had limits — he had to.
You both began circling each other, and a quick step to each side had you both falling into a familiar rhythm.
“You know he came by asking for you, right?”
You rolled your eyes. “It doesn’t mean anything.” you swing your fist, miming a punch, daring him to act.
Walker was always too trigger happy for his own good.
He would always bite.
“Y’know its pretty obvious to everyone include Bob that you’re distancing yourself from just him,” he said, launching at you with flurry of jabs. You dodged most, but he caught your shoulder and stomach hard.
Jesus that hurt, you deserved an extra matcha latte for lunch as a reward.
“Yeah? Well, he’s the one glued to his girlfriend’s side every hour of the day.” you step back with your arms up “I don’t see how that’s my problem.”
He raised an eyebrow, eyes narrowing “If you don’t like him, then why would it—”
“Oh my God, John,” you cut him off, voice tight “Everyone knows. I know Bob knows I like him. I don’t understand what people want from me! I’ve been kind. I talk to her, I talk to him. I haven’t said anything mean or snarky, I’m not making a scene. If they’re in the room, I don’t disappear... I’m trying.”
Your breathing was heavy and you could feel the pressure rising behind your eyes. You weren't prone to emotional outbursts and John felt like he’d provoked you without reason.
“What else am I supposed to do?” you whispered.
John looked like he was going to say something — probably a joke, probably one of his usual offhand lines to break the tension.
But he didn’t.
“I see him with her and it really hurts.” your arms dropped and you began to take the next few of his punches half-heartedly. You weren’t fighting back anymore.
Just standing there, letting the blows land and getting back up like clockwork.
“I-I can’t do this. I’m sorry”
You turn away, walking over to the wall pressing your forehead gently against the cool panelling. It’s the only thing that you could think to do to ground you. John comes up behind you, placing his hand on the top of your back, patting it like he would do to his son when he was helping him drift off to sleep.
John spoke, his tone gentler than usual.
“How do you always eat my hits like that?” he asks “You sure you’re not a mutant or something?”
You half-laughed, half-sighed, “If I was, I wouldn’t be a B-grade superhero like Variety said.”
He snorted behind you “And you believe the opinion of the magazine that made me ride my shield like a horse?”
You both laugh. John stands there with you until you calm down.
He tells you to clean up and head back upstairs, he says he doesn’t need you so stressed out so close to you guys’ next mission.
As you make your way up to the kitchen to fill up your water bottle you pass the library, freezing when you see two familiar figures sitting side by side on the floor.
Their arms are fitted so tightly next to one another, they look like their melting into each other. Lily reaches out and nudges a stray curl back behind Bob’s ear.
You feel sick.
Bob’s cheeks flush a little, and he gives her a sheepish grin and you make the mistake of scuffing your slippers across the floor in an attempt to walk away. They both look at you wide eyed, like they’d been caught doing something wrong.
“Hey guys” your voice gentle “Looks like a tornado flew through here, what you up to?” you’re hoping the fake texan twang is enough for them to not see the obvious awkwardness on your face.
Bob giggles and she explains their plan to find the ultimate saag paneer recipe, both finishing the others thoughts and animatedly nudging each other when they think the other ones wrong.
You decide that the scene is too intimate and too domestic and you need to run away.
Bidding them goodbye with a wide smile you all but run past the kitchen to go to your room and stew in your jealousy.
While Lily continues to argue the importance of the four forms of taste Bob swallows hard, his gaze distracted and brows slowly knotting together.
Something seriously doesn’t make sense with you.
You sit with your knees up on your bed, the soft glow from your bedside lamp casts shadows across the room. You make shapes with your hands and play with the shadows, your headphones are playing something by Lorde that makes you feel worse somehow.
That’s a first.
The door to the bathroom slowly cracks open, Ava’s brown curls visible as she inches her way in as quietly as possible.
“I’m awake y’know.” you grin at her, she was so cute when she was trying to be sneaky.
She guffaws “Yeah I k-knew.”
You stare at her accusingly with your brow raised.
“Ok so I thought you were asleep, so what? You can tell me off later once you tell me why you flooded your room on purpose.”
“I plead the fifth.” your expression completely deadpan.
“We’re both English! That doesn’t work.” she laughs out, not angrily but with the same tone a mother would with her child.
“Technically-“
She stops you “It wouldn’t have anything to do with the flying boy that you’ve been pining over?”
“That’s a low blow c’mon.” your pout is unintentional, you love Ava but you do not need to think about him even more after the day you’ve had, it would ruin the plan even more than it already had.
“Can we just drop the topic of Bob and just hang out? Since you’ve already snuck your way into my room”, she stills for a moment and without warning jumps onto your bed and grabs your waist. With her head in your lap you begin to thread your fingers through her scalp.
She mumbles something, half of her mouth buried in the plush fabric of your pyjamas. You’re sure it’s something about the way you keep the room way too cold for comfort.
This is nice you think.
Maybe you don’t need just Bob after all.
Phase 4
Never mind maybe you do.
Bob seems to struggle less and less with the concept of never seeing you around, he fills his time with Lily and her life. You think he seems to fit in fine with her spin classes and zoo dates. Not that there’s anything wrong with exercise and animals.
It isn’t your life, Bob isn’t your boyfriend and he would never want to be.
Ouch.
Maybe you really were on the cusp of really becoming invisible to him.
Just like you wanted?
Whatever, you didn’t have time to think about Project Get Over Bob anyway, Valentina had scheduled a gala to honour the ‘ex- Avengers’ as she called them. None of you were happy with the phrasing and you were sure Sam would talk you, Buck, and Joaqins ear off when you met up later tonight.
Your dress had been fitted a month or two before and Mel had scheduled a glam team for everyone so you go through the first half of the day abnormally relaxed.
You, Yelena, John and Alexei make your way downstairs first. You hear someone mumble about there not being enough space for everyone in the car but the air is so cold and bitter they’re lucky your ears haven’t frozen off by the time you’re off to the venue.
Once there, you struggle to get the train of your dress to stop sticking to the bottom of your heel, you curse loud enough for Alexei to notice and carry you out like a doll.
“Your dress ok my little firecracker?”
“Yeah thanks Lexei. You guys go ahead, I wanna go to the bathroom before heading in”
He nods and turns around, walking towards the others and wrapping his arms around them, binding them to himself as he rushes them in.
As you finally look up at the scene in front of you, your breath stutters.
The building in front of you was immense.
The lights perched about the balcony and grounds are blinding, and you grip the train of your dress in an attempt to calm your nerves. You focus on the sound of constant chatter and the feeling of the pebbled walkway under your heels.
Before your time with the team, you’d worked as a paralegal with the Govenor of New York. It was thankless but looked great on your Linkedin. You hadn’t figured out how to write Avenger in the current jobs section without seeming like an idiot yet. Galas were a common part of your job so you weren’t worried about having to network.
No what you were nervous about was keeping your cool around Bob. You’re sure that seeing him in a suit would kill you.
Now, back from the bathroom you feel a lot lighter and not just physically.
“You’re looking very foxy tonight lady.” without hesitation you reach out behind you to hit Joaqin.
“Why’d you say the same thing to me at every event dumbass.” the man gives you a bone crushing hug and another pair of arms snake around you while he squeezes.
“Buck been training you too hard or something? You look tired.” Sam and Joaqin really were tied at the hip recently, maybe Bob’s comment about them reminding him of Tina and Tina was right.
Wait, get yourself together, no more Bob!
You talk to the both of them for around twenty minutes before you're all ushered into the main room. You move effortlessly between the hoards of investors, senators and random people that you really don’t know, spitting out jokes and making conversation that the others on your team definitely don’t understand. You forget they didn't have to go full corporate for their previous day jobs.
God bless your internship at EY.
As you make your way over to the buffet, a voice calls out your name, you turn and see your friend Finley. He’d worked on a campaign with you a few years back.
You missed being less busy, even the stress of a political campaign was quieter than the constant press and training that had taken over your life. His sudden appearance was a welcome distraction.
“Look at you,” he said, pulling back to take you in “Avenger, huh? Still can’t believe you went from filing out my paperwork to fighting eldritch horrors.”
“Hey it’s not my fault you were so bad at your job.”
You both laughed and decided to find a nook to reminise about your awful pay and long nights together.
Your conversation was cut short when your phone buzzed in your clutch. A quick glance at the screen showed Bob was calling you.
You swipe the notification without a second thought.
You tell youself to remember the plan.
But you feel it suddenly, like someone is burning the side of your head with a lighter. What the hell?
When you look to your left, you see him.
Bob stands a few feet away, his expression unreadable.
His suit is black, tailored so precisely it looks painted onto him. The jacket hugs the top of his shoulders so deliciously, when he moves the fabric pulls just enough to remind you that he actually does have muscles and it isn't just rainbows/kittens under there. His shirt was crisp white, the contrast against his tan skin made your throat dry.
But it’s his face that really leaves you breathless.
His heavy brow bone, sharp and prominent, is even more pronounced under the chandelier lights. Shadows pooled in the hollows of his brow, making his already intense features twice as alluring. And his eyes—
God, his eyes.
Wait he looks really pissed.
His usually kind blue eyes looked unsettling, flashing wisps of black and gold. Did Bob always look like he was wearing eyeshadow or was it just today?
His gaze flicks from your face to your phone, then back.
He’d seen you ignore the call.
For a second, you brace waiting for him to say something, to call you out right there and then. But instead, Bob just… turns away but not before you see something raw flicker across his face, you just cant figure out what.
You text him a few times, a flurry of messages explaining you were in the middle of something important and were going to call him back, you promise.
Bob just replies with a thumbs up and tells you not to worry about it.
That somehow makes you feel worse than if he'd told you off.
The rest of the evening is fine, you have fun stuffing your face with courgette tarts but are worried about what to do when you get home. You’re leaving for Ulaanbaatar tomorrow morning and really don’t want to leave on a bad note.
The team was beat by the time the night was over, you all piled into your cabs and single-filed your way up to your rooms.
You’re two steps into yours when Bob lightly pushes his way in before the door closes.
“Hey”
His voice soft.
You turn, and there he is, still in that damn suit, his sleeves rolled up to his forearms. Was he trying to make you pass out on purpose? His eyes are tired, not angry. It makes you feel guilty, you’d have prefered him to be angry.
“You’ve been avoiding me.” he states.
Not an accusation.
Just a fact.
You swallow. “I’ve been busy. The mission prep—”
“Don’t.” He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. “Don’t do that. Not with me.”
You want to look away, but his gaze is so strong it feels like the room is falling away and all you can see is him.
“You haven’t hung out with me in weeks.” he says “You stopped eating breakfast with me, you did a U-turn in the hallway when you saw me last week and I know that you hate pottery so whats going on?” a pause, he looks nervous “Did I do something?”
Your chest aches “No. It’s not you.”
“Then what is it?”
You open your mouth, but nothing comes out. How could you explain? That every time you saw him with Lily, laughing at some joke you weren’t part of, it felt like he was ripping your heart out with his bare hands. That you were supposed to be over him, but you weren’t, and it was eating you alive?
Before you can force out another lie, Bob’s breath hitches. He can see the cogs turning in your head, attempting to lie to him again.
Wait, was the air in the room becoming thicker or was it the stress of the situation settling into your body?
His hands clenches. His pupils dilate—too wide, too gold.
Gold? Shit.
“Bob—” You step forward, but he staggers back, not wanting to touch you, bracing himself against the wall. His knuckles turning white where they grip the plaster, cracks begin to form under his palm.
That was not good.
“I don’t understand what the fuck your problem is! You go f-from telling me you aren’t avoiding me and that we’re such great friends to complete silence. I just, I don’t know what I did to make you upset with me.” his voice tapers off as he lowers his hands from the wall, the anger and frustration leaving his body only to be replaced with the sinking feeling of dread that maybe you really didn’t care for him.
“Hey, sweetheart I think we should both just calm down I’ll-“
“NO, no I won’t, I refuse to be ignored. We’ve devoted ourselves to you, don’t you see that!!” his voice is hoarse and it sounds as if all three of them, Void, Sentry and, Bob are shouting at you.
His body begins shaking and before you can even think you and Bob are completely gripped by the inky black tendrils of the Void.
The Void swallows you whole.
You land on your knees in a familiar place.
“No, no, not here, not again” you whine.
Maria Hill stands to your left, frozen in time.
You missed her, you missed her more than anything.
But you refused to live through it again, you worked so hard to come to terms with that day and it was a low blow for him to show you the room that you’d already worked so hard to leave a year before.
The scene changes and she’s there, right in front of you, bleeding out on the concrete.
Again.
And again.
“You like pulling cheap shots every time you force me to come here?” you scoff, sure the place scares you, but you calm yourself when you remember that Bob is stronger than whatever torture the Void is willing to put you through.
He’ll be here, you know he will.
“It worked on you last time, what’s the harm with trying twice?” a static-like voice whispers out from behind you.
The dark figure steps out in front of you, gripping your arm so tightly you can feel your muscle and bone press grind together. Despite the pain, you can feel him.
Feel Bob.
His presence calms you enough to stop struggling with the vice like force on your body.
You reach out, holding his face. The action angers him. You can’t see him but feel his features curl into a snarl.
“You think that a pathetic fucking human being like you can touch me or calm him? You think he dreams of you or thinks of you even a fraction of the amount you do.” his grip tightens even futher.
“Even the team, they think you’re dead weight, they tolerate you. Nothing more”
Suddenly Bob appears and he’s not alone.
He’s got an arm around Lily, whispering something in her ear and kissing her so deeply it feels innapropriate to observe.
You try to look away but his hand, Bob’s hand, grips your jaw leaving you unable to turn your head.
The Void purrs, his tone amused "He pities you and wants your attention because he’s bored, once he has her do you think he’ll care? He’s too kind to tell you to fuck off"
The Void senses your sudden hurt and latches on.
Digging deeper, he flashes every humiliating memory of yours—failed training sessions, missions where you froze and fucked up, anything that would make you hurt. "You’re a placeholder," he hisses, "a charity case. And the worst part? You know it."
The shame burns so deep you can’t breathe, can’t think, and as you begin to find your voice to tell him that you didn’t care and he’d had misjudged your reaction, the Void delivers a final blow.
His face flickers to resemble Bob "You really thought I could ever want you?" It’s so cruel and something within you is so caught off guard at the sight of Bob that you believe him.
The Void’s glee is palpable.
And then a voice cuts through the dark.
“Enough”
Bob.
Your Bob.
He stands at the edge of the nightmare, his eyes are blown open and wild, his hands clenched like he’s holding up the weight of the world
The midnight world suddenly splinters.
You wake up and the room is shaking, no wait, the room isnt shaking its you.
Bob’s crouched in front of you, his face concerned and he cradles your head in his arms “I didn’t—I didn’t mean for that to happen. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
Your pain and fear is so strong you feel like you could collapse. You want to run away and scream, call out to everyone to take you away and lock you up somewhere that it couldn’t find you.
But you don’t dwell on those feelings, you know Bob, he must be devestated that he pulled you into the Void.
Your tone is soft as you push youself up “Hey, hey look at me. It wasn’t your fault, how were you supposed to know the big guy would come out so quickly.”
“But I let him hurt you-”
You stop him “Don’t, don’t say anything. Look we need to take you to the med bay now j-just don’t say anything please, just don’t.”
Bob stares at you—hurt, guilty, devastated—but he doesn’t protest.
You both hobble down to the med bay in silence and you cant help but wonder if he remembered what you both had been speaking about before or your hidden shame.
You really hope he hadn’t.
You’d called Yelena down on your way, telling her the other guy had come out to play for a bit and Bob was shaken up. She’d raced down as quickly as she could to relieve you of your babysitting duty.
Outside of the med bay, you speak to her in hushed tones while balancing the entire weight of your body on her, exhaustion setting in.
“You ok?” she strokes your hair as you tremble.
“Yeah I just, I need sleep.” she doesn’t press you for answers and you’re grateful. One small kiss to her head and you decide you’re ready to leave.
You glance back at Bob through the door, he’s already looking at you, pensive. You smile reassuringly and can visibly see his shoulders slump down in relief.
You leave but not after throwing another gummy smile and a thumbs up at the man.
The morning comes too soon, you’re still upset from the events of the night, but that doesn’t mean you can just shirk your responsibilities.
You’re packed and out the door before the sun fully rises, meeting John and Alexei downstairs. They don’t ask why your hands won’t stop shaking or why your eyes are so bloodshot.
As the engines hum to life, you glance back at the Tower one last time.
Project Get Over Bob was a complete bust.
Hey guys, hope that this chapter has you guy’s as excited as I am to continue on to the final part of this fic! Sorry for not adding a taglist to this fic but there were a lot of replies and I didn’t think I could get through them!
If you have any tips for fic writing pls follow me I’m always looking to improve.
I hope the writing style isn’t too different, I’m still trying to find my style and footing when it comes to this stuff!
The next chapter will be filled with plenty of comfort and maybe something a bit cheekier if you catch my drift!
#bob reynolds x reader#bob thunderbolts#bob reynolds#robert reynolds x reader#robert reynolds angst#robert reynolds#thunderbolts#bob x reader#yelena belova#bucky barnes#ava starr#john walker#alexei shostakov#marvel x reader#sentry x reader#void x reader
4K notes
·
View notes