#computer engineers are getting lazy

[oldbookshop]

there is no reason I should be having constant RAM problems w 8GB when we went TO THE MOON on FOURTEEN KB OF RAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 21 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You keep yourself as busy as you can with your friends while your husband is away. Bradley starts to learn that this top secret special mission comes with a very specific set of risks and very few details. But the details he does have make it clear that he's never faced anything like this before.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, masturbation, fluff, mentions of hostages

Length: 6000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

You sat in the driver's seat of the Bronco until Bradley's transport was completely out of sight, and you were just squinting into the brightening sky. It was getting late, and you needed to head to work, but the weird mix of emotions inside you was making it hard to even reach for the keys in the ignition and start the engine. 

Bradley was excited about his mission; you knew that for a fact. He couldn't hide it from you when he talked about it, and you wouldn't even want him to. If this is what it was going to take for him to get back into a confident groove at work, then you were happy to send him off into the sky. But it was still impossible not to worry about him. 

You made the trip back home and got yourself dressed in your uniform after you took Tylenol for your cramps. You kissed Tramp and said, "When I get home later, we can watch a movie." Then you took your little red car to work and walked up to your office. 

While Bradley was away, you planned on using this time to catch up with your friends a little bit more. Maria and Cam were the best kinds of friends who could just tell when you needed to focus on your marriage instead of them, but you were really missing those lazy brunches and avocado toast. But Jake was the one you really wanted to have lunch with.

"Sorry, Cat," you murmured to yourself as you walked to the lab. You were ready to force Jake to sit down with you and you alone one day this week, even if that meant asking her nicely to sit at a different table. You still had in the back of your mind the fact that he had other women texting his phone, and you wanted to know what that was all about. 

Cat was the first person you saw when you entered your lab, and while you wanted to talk to her, she was wearing the expensive headphones with her eyes glued to her computer screen, and you knew better than to interrupt. So you waited and texted Jake to see if he was going to be on the ground at lunchtime today. But as soon as Cat removed her headphones, you were there.

"Hey," you said, and she jumped a bit in her seat. 

"Hi," she replied, eyeing you a little suspiciously. "It's pretty early on a Monday morning to be scaring people."

You took a deep breath. "Sorry. Bradley left a few hours ago, and I'm still riding the adrenaline rush."

Her face softened. "That's right. Any idea how long he'll be gone?"

"No clue. But I can already tell he's going to miss his birthday, which is now my favorite day of the year."

She laughed. "That's sweet. Jeremiah's birthday is my favorite day."

You paused and studied her face. "And Jake's birthday? You like that day, too?"

She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. "Seeing as that's not until October, I haven't had a chance to experience that with him yet."

You wrung your hands together. "Do you think you and he will be experiencing it? Together?"

Cat stood and shook her head at you. "If you're trying to ask me what's going on with Jake, then just ask me what's going on with Jake. You and I can't cut the bullshit with each other now."

You felt your cheeks grow warm as you asked, "Did you ask him about the text messages?"

"Yes," she replied immediately. "At first he pretended not to know what I was talking about, and I promptly grabbed my bag and walked out his front door."

"No," you gasped, your hands curling into angry fists. "He didn't."

"He did," she said calmly, nodding. "I made it all the way out to Uncle Bernie's SUV before he chased me down. I told him to remember that I'm not some twenty one year old he met at the bar, and he told me he's an idiot. So I left."

"When was this?" you asked, completely shocked by Jake. 

"Saturday night." Cat was as calm as anything, and you kind of envied her for it.

"What are you going to do?"

She shrugged, and you saw the facade crack the tiniest bit. "Jer is already attached to him. So... that sucks, I guess. I haven't answered Jake's calls, and I haven't decided if I will or not. I needed time to think. I'm honestly a little surprised and annoyed that he isn't in here right now looking for me." Her expression just seemed sad now, and you really wanted to hug her. But Bickel walked in looking for Macy so you decided to just accost Jake yourself when you saw him.

The opportunity arose at lunchtime. "Seresin!" you called out once you had your burrito bowl and hot sauce in your hands. He turned around cautiously as you stormed in his direction. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

He smirked. "You'll need to be more specific, Angel."

You glared. "Cut the shit and give me your phone." You set your lunch on an empty table before taking his sandwich container out of his hand. You held out your palm expectantly, and a few seconds later, he handed it to you. When you unlocked his phone and opened his messaging app, you were appalled. Most of the texts were from random numbers, and at least he hadn't responded to any of them, but you were still annoyed. "Why didn't you delete any of these messages?"

Now he was kind of in your face as he hissed, "What's the fucking point? It's not going to make them stop. It'll just make me feel worse when I get more."

You held up his phone. "One girl texted asking if you could come over at three in the morning. Three in the morning, Jake!"

"I know," he said, wrenching his phone back out of your hand. "It was when I was asleep in bed with Cat at Hondo's place. I snuck in the window around midnight just so I could see her, and I read the message when I woke up. It made me want to vomit."

"Well how do you think Cat feels?!" you replied in an outraged whisper. 

"Probably like an idiot," he said with a shrug. "But I'm not doing anything behind her back."

You sighed deeply. "I think she knows that, but you need to make it stop."

"I literally emailed your husband on Sunday night for advice," Jake said, plopping down into a seat at the table and running his fingers through his hair. "He managed to pull you, so he's got to know what he's doing and how I can fix this."

You rolled your eyes and took the seat across from him. "Well if he writes back, take it with a grain of salt. Bradley hardly gives his phone number out to anyone."

"He did write back. He told me after you and he traded numbers, he blocked and deleted everyone else's."

A soft smile found its way to your lips as you thought about Bradley holding his phone the night after you and he first kissed. The idea of him deleting other numbers while he was texting you made butterflies erupt inside you. "Well, you could try doing that," you told Jake. "Either that or get a new phone number. I think that would send the right signal to Cat. If you're still serious."

Jake poked at his sandwich for a few seconds with a scowl on his face, and then he stood, sending the chair screeching a few feet behind him. You watched him walk out of the cafeteria, and when he didn't return, you ate his sandwich and saved your burrito bowl for your dinner instead. You'd eat it at home while you emailed the photographer in Oceanside.

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

Bradley was usually able to get some sleep on the comanche transports, but this time it was too loud and uncomfortable, even with his earplugs. Exhaustion was finally overtaking him as they started to near the US base in South Korea. A nervous energy was thrumming through him. But he did feel more confident knowing that Cyclone and Warlock were running the mission this time, and while he didn't know many of the other aviators personally, he'd heard of all of them. The fact that several of them had been called in from the Atlantic fleet was a little bit alarming and also intriguing to him. 

He quickly learned that the woman sitting across from him was Daphne 'Bluebird' Blue from Lemoore, the pilot he'd filled in for once previously when she'd been injured in a training exercise. Of course that was the same mission Bradley had been lucky to return home from outside of a body bag. Countless stitches, broken bones and lacerations later, you'd nursed him back to health. He wondered briefly if something similar would have happened to Bluebird if she'd flown instead of him. Maybe they were both alive today simply because Bradley had gone in her place. 

The current mission felt like a way for him to bring his confidence fully back. As he walked out of the comanche and then right into a smaller helicopter that was waiting to take them to the aircraft carrier, Bradley ended up sitting next to Bluebird this time. He knew there would be time to meet everyone aboard the carrier, but she had a friendly demeanor. He really wasn't here to make friends though, so he closed his eyes, and luckily this time he was able to fall asleep.

"Rooster." He woke up to Bluebird shaking his arm. "Wake up."

He'd been having the most incredible dream about you, one where you were standing in the backyard singing really badly. Tramp was running around in excited circles and the sun was shining, and when he called out your name, you turned to face him. And you had an adorable baby in your arms. When he looked up at Bluebird with her hand on his arm, he was almost confused. 

"We're on the carrier," she informed him, patting his shoulder before walking out the back of the helicopter. He was alone now, and it was almost quiet, so he took a minute to let his head rest on the nylon netting behind him. The dream felt real to the point that being on the carrier felt foreign now. He rubbed his hands across his face and stood, looking around for his duffle before he walked outside. 

Cyclone was handing out bunk assignments, and thanks to Bluebird, there was an uneven number of males. Bradley got his own bunk. "Get some food, and get some rest," Warlock told the group. "We'll meet tomorrow morning at 0900 to start talking about some mission options."

Bradley's brow scrunched as he followed the labyrinth of hallways in search of his bunk. That was such an odd way to phrase it: start talking about some mission options. It struck him that perhaps he was finally, officially sitting at the proverbial big kids' table. But now he was also a little afraid of exactly what was going to unfold here.

He quickly unpacked his bag and reached for his new notebook, deciding to forego dinner in favor of some quiet and a bigger breakfast in the morning. His thoughts were swirling. He scribbled down a paragraph about Admiral Dean and Slayer, trying to empty his brain of everything negative. He wrote down his feelings about the current mission, and then he paused. 

As he glanced over the page, he realized this notebook wasn't going to be quite like the last one. While he wouldn't hide it from you, it just felt a little different. Then he wrote down the dream he had. This was his notebook, and he wasn't going to change his tactics now. He wrote down everything in as much detail as he could remember. He wrote down the way the sliding glass door felt against his hand and exactly which song the dream version of you had been singing. 

And then he dropped the notebook and pen onto the floor and fell asleep without getting changed. When he woke up, he felt better. The jetlag had confused his body, but luckily he had plenty of time to get himself ready for the day. He ate breakfast alone after a long shower, and then he headed for the classroom. Everyone else seemed a little tense, and Bradley tried to chalk it up to the fact that only the admirals knew what was going on. But frankly they seemed tense as well. 

"Good morning," Warlock greeted everyone with a stern face and a deep voice. The room was absolutely silent for him. "Welcome aboard the USS Nimitz. I'm Admiral Bates, and this is Admiral Simpson. The seven of you have been selected to be here today, simply because you've consistently shown three qualities in your career: you can make good decisions under pressure, you treat your teammates with respect, and you come highly recommended by your superiors. You'll need to employ every bit of your knowledge and skill to make this mission successful. And it is of the utmost importance that we are successful." He paused, and when he spoke again, he was looking directly at Bradley. "Welcome to Operation Loophole."

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

You hadn't heard another word from Jake after lunch on Monday. You'd gone home to Tramp and eaten your burrito bowl before falling asleep on the couch while you tried to watch a movie. Your cramps were so bad, you could barely function, and Bradley wasn't even home to run around and get everything for you. 

"Come on," you said to Tramp as you stood and stretched around midnight. You let him outside and then took your phone to your bedroom while he trotted along behind you. Then you got yourself ready for bed and emailed the photographer who had helped you make Bradley's birthday present last year. She promised she would fit you in again, and you hoped she could take some photos of you this weekend when your period was over and you weren't so bloated.

You curled up in bed after turning the lamp off, and you thought about Bradley. You didn't even know where he was right now. The base in South Korea could be a jumping off point for pretty much anything, and all you could do now was wait and hope for a facetime call. 

After turning your ringer up louder, you eventually fell asleep with Tramp. When you woke up for work, you took your phone everywhere with you. It joined you on the bath mat when you took a shower, and you had it in your pocket as you ate breakfast. You weren't going to miss a call from Bradley this time. 

When you strolled into your lab right on time, Cat was already working, and she had the headphones on again. You tried to settle in to check some code so you could get your submissions out before your deadlines when Jake walked in.

"Angel," he said quietly, and he looked a lot calmer today. His gaze shifted to Cat, and you noticed he had a piece of paper in his hand. He hesitated, but then she carefully slid the headphones off and set them down next to her keyboard. Jake took a deep breath, and you tried to be discreet as you watched him walk over to her. 

She was looking up at him from her seat, and her expression gave nothing away. Jake said a few words and then handed her the paper before turning and walking away. Now he looked a little apprehensive as Cat read the note over a few times. She jumped up from her seat, and the paper sailed to the floor, landing close to your boot. You picked it up and read it as Cat called out to him and reached for his hand to stop him.

I don't want you to give up on me. 

It was followed by a phone number. Jake's new phone number. You smiled as you watched the two of them kissing out in the hallway. When Cat eventually walked back in, trying her best to contain her smile, she looked around a bit frantically for the note. 

"Here you go," you told her, holding it out. She snatched it from you with a grin and then sat down without a word. 

But a few minutes later, your phone vibrated in your pocket with a text from that new number. Angel, come have lunch with Bob, Nat and I today.

You couldn't turn down the invitation. At 12:30, you found yourself holding a lunch tray and sliding into the seat next to Jake as the three of them continued with their discussion as if you'd always been there. 

"I don't want to move to Poway," Bob said as he poked at his salad with his fork. "It will take me forever to get to work, and there's nothing up there anyway. Then you guys will forget about me and stop inviting me to things."

"I never invite any of you to anything," Nat interjected before biting into her cheeseburger. "You all just show up regardless."

"Well, what do you think, Angel?" Jake asked, eating a duplicate of the sandwich you enjoyed yesterday. 

"I'm sorry, but what are we talking about here?" you asked, turning your attention back to Bob when he sighed.

"My landlord is raising my rent," Bob replied. "I'm seriously considering a new place instead of renewing my lease, but nothing I've found seems suitable. And Nat and Jake are very little help."

Nat nodded in agreement, and Jake rolled his eyes. His phone was sitting on his tray, and you saw it light up with a text from Cat. When you met his eyes, he was smiling. 

"Well, Bob," you said, returning your attention to the man across from you, "I will definitely ask around and let you know if I hear of anything that might work out for you. And we could never forget to invite you to things. You're too sweet for that to happen."

"Thank you," he murmured, blushing a bit as he ate a bite of salad. You felt like you owed him a little bit since he'd kept Bradley so calm during that last, painful deployment. He'd given your husband a blank notebook and had taken the time to meditate with him. "How's Rooster's special detachment?"

You shrugged. "No idea. He just left yesterday. I'll be lucky to hear from him at all."

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

The training routine every day for the first week was rigorous, but the really crazy thing was the fact that the admirals still hadn't provided any real details about Operation Loophole. Bradley and the others were in the air working through exercises all morning every morning, and then they were all in the small classroom below deck until late. Oftentimes Admiral Simpson had food delivered to the room as he went over scenarios that didn't quite make sense without all of the information. 

They just kept going over three different scenarios: Alpha, Beta and Gamma. Bradley knew them by heart, and he was sure the others did as well. But they weren't being told which one they would be flying for the mission. They were only being told they needed to be able to perform any of the three flawlessly.

On Friday morning at breakfast, Bradley decided to sit with Bluebird. It hadn't escaped him that the seven pilots all gave each other a bit of a wide berth during any sort of free time. He was left to assume that none of them had ever worked together before. He knew he hadn't worked with any of them. Bluebird was from Lemoore, but none of the others were stationed in California at all. Havoc was from Whidbey Island. Jackal was from Key West. Richmond was from Great Lakes. Wilbur was from Norfolk. Dugout was from Pensacola. 

"Are you starting to get the feeling they're withholding information from us?" Bradley asked as he took a seat. 

Bluebird looked up from her book and laughed. "Are you starting to get the feeling we might never know what's really going on?"

"Shit," Bradley muttered, dousing his eggs in hot sauce just like you would. "If they don't say something soon, I'm going to start begging for information. At first it was exciting to be part of this whole thing, but now, I'm not so sure."

"I completely agree," she said, her voice laced with frustration. "Maybe the seven of us can pull together and riot."

She and Bradley walked side by side down the long corridor to the classroom without speaking, but it wasn't unpleasant. He didn't mind being alone with his thoughts right now, but it was especially nice to know he wasn't the only one who was frustrated here. 

"Close the door behind you," Cyclone barked at Bradley. Everyone else was already seated as the door clicked shut, and Bradley found a seat as well. "Since you've proven you can fly the Alpha, Beta and Gamma scenarios to the highest level of perfection, let's talk a little more about Operation Loophole."

Bradley leaned forward a bit in his seat as Warlock turned off the lights, and the projector at the back of the room lit up the front wall. 

"While giving you the barest amount of information possible," Cyclone started, "I'd like you to memorize what you see here."

Bradley looked at the aerial view of a city and the suburbs beyond. Then the image zoomed in on a small cluster of buildings before zooming further to one building with a dark green roof. He tried to take in every detail of where it looked like the front door opened up directly onto the sidewalk and the fact that there didn't appear to be any other buildings connected to it. The more he examined things, an uneasy feeling started to fill him up. And then he realized that he was looking at a live satellite feed as a motorbike rode past the building.

"This structure is currently housing five hostages. One is American. The other four are from allied countries. As far as our intelligence shows, they've been inside for fifty eight days."

Bradley had to fight the desire to look around the room as dread settled into his stomach. They were going to aid in a hostage extraction. He already knew what this meant. How dangerous it was going to be. 

"Six of you will be chosen. One of you will remain on standby. There is no margin for error. You will be flying unmarked jets. You will be wearing unmarked flight suits. Communication with the carrier will be at short range only. Communication with each other will be through code only. Nobody can know who we are or where we came from or what our country of origin is. You will not fire a single weapon. You will not take a single hit. You will be perfect."

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

Early on Saturday morning, you left your house with your hair and makeup looking flawless. There was literally a suitcase full of your clothing and lingerie in the back of the Bronco as you drove it along the coastal highway, and you were singing along loudly to one of Bradley's playlists. His birthday was next weekend, but you hadn't heard a word from him since he left. You couldn't hold out too much hope that he'd be back in time, because you didn't want to be disappointed later. At least his birthday present would be ready for him whenever he got home.

This year you decided to incorporate Bradley's beloved Bronco into his birthday calendar. Yesterday after work, you spent hours washing and cleaning it up so the blue paint absolutely shined. The idea of becoming a pinup model for the second year in a row was making you antsy to get the photo shoot over with, but he'd told you explicitly how much he wanted another calendar. And you often caught him flipping through the one you made last year when he was supposed to be working out in the garage.

You were smiling by the time you arrived at the rocky overlook a few miles outside of Oceanside, and Flora, the photographer you met last year, was already there. "You look like you're ready for the spotlight," she said as she shook your hand.

"I'm nervous," you told her with a shrug.

"You were nervous last year, and the calendar turned out perfectly. And this time, we've got gorgeous weather and a natural backdrop. It'll be great."

You took a deep breath and got to work. She had you pose all around and inside the Bronco, and she had you move it a few times so it was facing different directions. Once again you brought Bradley's aviators, and they made it into a few photos. Flora helped you discreetly get changed into different outfits even though there was nobody around to see. She took photos of you in your honeymoon bikini leaning back against the hood as well as some in your denim shorts and red bra while you sat on the tailgate. So many poses, you couldn't keep track.

As she scrolled through the photos, examining the screen on her camera in the sunlight, she casually asked, "How do you feel about going topless?"

You pressed your lips together. If you did, Bradley was going to have to make sure nobody else saw it. But you already knew he would lose his shit. In a good way. "Okay, but you'll have to make next June the topless month."

"Sure," she replied as you looked around in every direction before unclasping your bra.

A few hours later, you were dressed in a simple sundress and walking into the usual restaurant for a late brunch. You slid into the booth next to Cam and across from Maria, and you were thankful there was already a mimosa waiting for you. Flora insisted the photos looked perfect, but you were still a little antsy over the state of the calendar.

"I'm starving," Cam whined, signaling for the waitress to come back. "Do you know what you want?"

"I literally just got here," you told him as you sipped your drink.

"You always get the same thing anyway," he murmured. "Both of you do." You could tell he was getting hangry by the way he ordered for all three of you when the waitress came back. "One French toast with berries. One avocado toast with bacon. One western omelette with extra hashbrowns." Then he aggressively bit into a piece of the cinnamon toast that the waitress left on the table. 

"You're in a snippy mood," you told him, and then you realized that Maria was staring at her phone. "What's your problem?" 

Cam sighed and chewed up the rest of the toast. "I'm starving, first of all. Second, I think my boss is going to promote me next cycle, which is great, but I also feel like a dick, because I kind of want to switch labs. And third, Maria won't stop whining."

"I'm not whining!" she whined, rolling her eyes. 

Great. You had to be the parent today. "Well, congratulations?" you said to Cam and he just ate more toast in response. Then you looked at Maria and asked, "What's got you so upset?"

She set her phone down, and you could tell she was apartment hunting. "Rochelle is moving out. Her boyfriend got a bigger place, and she's moving in with him. She pulled a you."

You grimaced and muttered, "Sorry." 

She waved you off. "It's fine. She wasn't that great anyway. But I can't afford two bedrooms alone when everyone else around me is getting married and getting promotions and raises except me," she said blandly, rubbing her hands over her face. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that."

Cam downed his mimosa in one go, but you were still looking at Maria. "Hey... you remember Bob Floyd? Phoenix's backseater?"

"Lieutenant Commander Mustache and his parade of hot friends," Cam mumbled, and you elbowed him to be quiet.

Maria had a faraway look in her eyes now. "Bob Floyd. He always smells nice."

Cam nodded in agreement. And you nodded in agreement as well. "He does always smell nice," you whispered, thinking about the last time you hugged Bob. 

"Anyway, what about Bob?" Maria asked, still fidgeting with her phone. 

You smiled. "He's looking for a new place."

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

Bradley was in his bunk, getting undressed after dinner when there was a knock on the door. "Yeah?" he asked, opening it up to reveal a petty officer. 

"Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw?"

"Yeah?" Bradley repeated, buttoning his shirt up again.

"If you want to make a call, there are some free iPads in the communication room. I saw your name on the list."

"Oh," he murmured, quickly tucking in his shirt again and following him out the door. "Thanks."

Bradley's heart was pounding erratically. After you missed his call last deployment, he had gotten so frustrated, and you'd gone to talk to Dr. Genevieve. He was trying to do some quick math to determine what time it was back home, but he was already in the room. He felt flustered as he was given a tablet and a private spot to sit. As quickly as he could, he entered your number, hoping to have as much time to talk to you as he could. 

Just a few seconds later, you answered with a loud, "Roo!" Bradley saw your face for a few seconds before you dropped your phone. Then there was a string of curse words before you picked it up again. "Bradley?!" you asked in a panicked voice.

"I'm here, Baby Girl."

You squealed with delight, and Bradley realized you were standing halfway in and halfway out of the shower. You were completely naked, and you looked like perfection as you asked, "Are you okay?"

"Yes," he replied, knowing there was no way he could share any classified details about his mission with you. He was going to have to keep you talking about yourself as much as possible. "I miss you so much. How are you? How's Tramp?"

"Good!" you gushed, moving under the shower spray and holding your phone out away from you as you rinsed off. Bradley was completely distracted by your wet tits as you said, "I had brunch with Cam and Maria on Saturday, and Nat and I got our nails done. But I miss you. Did you fly yet?"

"Not yet," he rasped as you stood in the far corner of the steamy shower and smiled at your phone. "God, you look good."

Your smile grew as you leaned against the tile wall, bringing your free hand up to touch your breasts, and he could see his wedding ring on your necklace chain. "Do you know when you'll be home? Can you tell me about your mission?" you asked softly as the sound of the shower somehow calmed Bradley's nerves as you wound him up a little bit.

He just grunted. "I'd rather watch you, Sweetheart."

And you fucking let him. Your fingers with your pretty manicured nails brushed along your nipples as you sighed his name. He had no idea how he's gotten this lucky in life, as you treated him to those pretty fingers on your clit and slipping inside your pussy just for him. He watched you masturbate, and he turned the volume down when you got loud. His hand was resting on his cock as he grew harder for you, the sounds you made echoing through the shower enclosure. 

"Baby Girl," he groaned softly as he watched your face on the screen as you came. Perfect. You looked perfect. His mind flashed back to the dream he had as he looked at your face, relaxed and sated. 

"Tell me how much you miss me, Roo," you whispered breathlessly. So Bradley waxed poetic about your body and your voice and how he couldn't get comfortable in bed without you. He made you laugh, and his cock stayed hard as you licked your lips. 

And then he was told he had a minute left. "Hey, listen," he told you softly. "Time's almost up. I don't know when I'll be flying or when I'll be home, but I think this is going to be a crazy one, okay?"

"Okay," you said, apprehension creeping into your voice. 

"But I'm doing great here. I'm ready for anything. So there's no need to worry. I'll be home soon."

"I love you, Bradley."

"I love you so much, Sweetheart."

Bradley felt like he was still in a bit of a daze as he returned to his bunk. He thought about jerking off to the videos you and he made on his phone, but he barely had his shirt off when there was another sharp knock on his door. He answered in just his uniform pants. It was Bluebird, and the sight of her wearing her unmarked, black flight suit added to the adrenaline already coursing through his body. 

"Get changed into your black suit. It's time to go."

She moved down the hallway, knocking on another door, and it took Bradley a few seconds to pull his thoughts together. It was mission time. It must be dark out on deck now. He would be flying at night. He took a minute to breathe deeply the way Bob taught him, and then he got changed. 

He was the last one to walk into the classroom, and it felt so strange to have no identifying clothing or patches on his person at all, especially when the admirals were dressed for a normal day. "Have a seat," Warlock announced, and then he turned the lights out, leaving the room in pitch darkness. "You'll be flying tonight in these conditions. Your eyesight will do little to help you beyond seeing what's on your radar readouts. Rely on your teammates and your instincts instead."

Then the projector clicked on while Bradley's heart pounded. Cyclone was at the front of the room, signaling for the satellite image to be zoomed in further and further. "Our sources on the ground relayed useful intelligence in the last hour. The hostages are most likely being transported around midnight, potentially to an execution site. SEAL Team 7 is ready just off the coast aboard the USS Charleston. You will provide a distraction for the SEAL team, enabling them to penetrate the building and perform an extraction before the hostages can be moved. Two of you will protect a comanche helicopter crew providing imaging for the SEAL team. Four of you will lure enemy aircrafts out over the water and away from the military base located here." 

The image on the wall zoomed out and back in on an airstrip located not too far away from the hostages. Bradley listened as Cyclone told them their current coordinates, the coordinates of the base, and the coordinates of the hostages. "You need to keep the enemy aircrafts away from the Charleston and keep the comanche crew out of danger. Bluebird, you're the team leader for the comanche protection. Wilbur, you fly with Bluebird." Cyclone turned to look at Bradley as he said, "And Rooster, you'll lead the team composed of Havoc, Richmond and Dugout to lure the enemy jets out over the water. Any questions?"

Cyclone nodded at Richmond when he raised his hand, "Sir, are we following flight plan Alpha, Beta or Gamma?"

Cyclone shook his head. "None of the above. You'll be flying flight plan Omega, and we're going to make it up right now."

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

Bradley is out there on the mission of a lifetime. More action coming soon. Thank you @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 22

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[bunnywritesjunk]

My King

Series summary: Your parents signed you up for an Alpha Omega Match company when you were eighteen. It took years for them to find your match, but you meet the giant austrian man. Will he be a good partner?

Chapter summary: You and König attend a holiday party.

Pairing: König x Fem Reader

Warnings: A/B/O dynamics (Never use this abbreviation without the slashes it is an indigenous slur) 18+ MDNI, vague racism, heat (omega verse)

Word count: 3.1k

Genre: Mostly Fluff a little angst here and there. Smut.

A/n: Omg....Hi guys......it's me.....hey.......I am alive. This chapter is defiantly geared more towards my poc readers. Theres some angst that i'll revisit in a later chapter. Some comments are made. You'll see. Anyways, I can't promise I will be posting super consistently but I will definatly try to post more then I have been.

Previous Chapter

Chapter Five:

Your editor droned on about deadlines and writing engines as you ate some soup König got you earlier. You can hear the desperation through the computer screen. You'd be lying if you said you were listening. They'll get the pages when they get them, with you, no money. König sat on the couch waiting for your meeting to be done. 

“I'll get the next chapter done, Frankie.” You said.

“You promise?” He was almost teary-eyed.

“Yes, I promise.” 

You hung up and closed your laptop while sighing. You got up and walked over to your giant Alpha. You outstretched his arm, inviting you to cuddle. You obliged plopping yourself on his lap and resting your head on his chest. The November winds were seeping into the atmosphere slowly. You didn't mind. That meant the holidays were coming. 

“The 141 is having an early holiday party. Everyone goes on leave one week into December, so we celebrate early. Would you like to go with me, Schatz?” 

“Oh yes, that sounds lovely. When is it?” You asked delightedly.

“This weekend. It's a dressy event.” 

The weekend was in four days. You haven't done your hair or dressed up in a while. You'd want a new dress for this especially with the cold, but you supposed you could make something work. As for your hair, it was time to hit up a YouTube tutorial for some ideas. König seemed to sense your internal struggle. 

“We can go shopping today, I need a button-down shirt.” 

“You don't have a button-down?” You asked a little amused. 

“Never needed one.” 

“Huh, well I also want to get my hair done. But, I've never been to a stylist here.” You started searching for braiders in the area, and to your surprise, there were some. 

The prices were comparable to ones in the US so that gave you some comfort. König looked over your shoulder browsing the different styles along with you. Some he has seen and others he hasn't. He chimed in with some styles he thought would look cute on you every so often. 

“Oh, she has an appointment available tomorrow.”

“Book it, I'll take you.” 

“I can take myself it's alright.”

“Nein. I'll take you.”

You grumbled a bit at his stubbornness but gave in. You booked the appointment and placed your deposit. 

“How much is it?” König asked.

“Um, all together with the deposit, one hundred fifty euros. I was also gonna tip but I forgot Europe doesn't do that.” 

König replied with a 'hmm' and tapped away on his phone. Your phone dinged and you checked the notification. 

'König has sent you € 150,00' 

“Kö, You don't have to pay for this.”

“Why shouldn't I? You are mine, You want it, I like it when you look beautiful, so I pay.” He said simply.

König had a habit of paying for everything. You liked it but it made you a little uncomfortable. This wasn't how you'd be treated back in the States. Whenever you mentioned it, König would always rant about how American men were cheap and lazy. He also would mention how he has more money than he needs so spending it on you is fun. König loves to see your little face light up whenever he buys you something sweet, or a piece of jewelry you were looking at. He told you to get dressed for the shopping trip and you obliged, making sure you were bundled up for the cold weather. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The two of you opted to shop for König's clothes first. Finding clothing that fits him nicely is a challenge with how tall and muscular he is. There were some stores specifically made for big and tall men that you went into first. One store only had bright floral patterned shirts and loosely fitting dress pants. Neither you nor your Alpha liked that. The next one had some nice boots in his size. They were a fancier version of combat boots. Finally, you found a simple black button-down shirt and slim tapered dress pants for him. You made him try it on before leaving the store.

 My god...You had to keep yourself from drooling. The pants hugged his waist perfectly, and the shirt was just tight enough for you to see some muscle peeking through. König smirked at your reaction. 

“You think this will look good with my sniper hood?” he asked. 

“What?! You're gonna wear your hood and cover-up that gorgeous face? No way.”

“I don't show my face to anyone on base, Schatz.” 

“Hmm, well you look good in anything so... I guess.” You pouted.

König got dressed and paid for his clothes. Nearby there were a few boutiques with dresses. You wanted something nice, but not too fancy. You didn't want to overdress. König was patient with you as you browsed a bunch of stores. Eventually, you found something you liked. It was a midi deep purple knit dress. It had elegant sleeves and looked like it could be dressed up or down. Perfect for a cold night. König sat on the bench of the fitting room as you tried it on. You came out and twirled giving him a full view of the dress. 

“So?” You asked.

“Beautiful.” He motioned for you to come closer. When you did he placed a hand on your hip gingerly. 

“I can think of many things I could do to you in this dress.” He said quietly. 

“König!” You gave him a light slap on the arm and went back into the changing room embarrassed. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day you started prepping for your hair appointment. You had to wash your hair but the stylist said she could blow-dry it for you. You spent about an hour washing your hair and another detangling it. König kept you company on the couch as you combed and sectioned it out. You sighed and slumped on the couch once you were done. Your arms were a little sore but you were glad you were done. You put your bonnet on to keep your hair neat and moisturized. You made sure you had your tip ready and a book to read while you got your hair done. König stood at the door watching you pace around the apartment gathering your things. 

The drive to the salon was quick and smooth. König gave you a kiss on the cheek before you exited the car. You opened the door to the building, and the smell of hair spray wafted into your nose. A tall woman greeted you as you walked in. Her hair was braided back into neat rows and her dark cheeks had a warm glow to them. 

“Are you my twelve pm?” She asked with a smile.

“Yes, I am, nice to meet you.” 

She guided you into a salon chair and got started. Her hands were quick, skilled, and gentle as she worked her way through your head of hair. In about two hours she finished. You admired your new do in the mirror and thanked your stylist profusely. König waited at a café down the street. You spotted him sitting peacefully at one of the outdoor tables, away from most other patrons. As you got closer he glanced up to meet and look at you. His eyes widened, taking in your new look. Although he had his mask on you could tell he was smiling under it. He stood up to greet you. 

“You look beautiful, Liebe.” He leaned down to kiss your forehead careful to avoid touching your freshly done hair. You giggled bashfully and returned his kiss on his cheek. 

The next few days went by quickly. You did some extra work and scheduled an editor meeting before the weekend. When Saturday rolled around, you were anxious. You wanted to make a good impression with your Alpha's coworkers. How do you act around military personnel? Your father never brought you around any of his military friends. As you got ready you just tried to keep an open mind and stay confident in yourself. Also, you will get to see Soap again. You slipped on your dress and spritzed a light mist of perfume.

You walked out of your room while looking through your purse to make sure you had all of your essentials. König was sitting on the couch but stood when he saw you. He was dressed and ready, looking over your form affectionately. You zipped around the dining room and kitchen making sure you had everything in order. König walked over to you, stopping you in your path. He slinked his hand around your waist pulling you out of your thoughts. He pulled you into his chest gently. 

“Relax, Schatz.” He purred. You looked up at him and gave him a nervous smile. 

“I think I left my wallet in my room. Do I need it? Should I bring a gift?” You rambled. 

König pulled your wallet out from his back pocket and handed it to you. He shook his head and gave you a small smile. His sniper hood was hanging haphazardly over a dining room chair. He led you towards the door swiftly grabbing it and opening the door. You followed him out reluctantly. 

The drive to the base was uneventful aside from your occasional worrying that was quelled by your alpha quickly. You can't help but feel more on edge than you usually would, but you can't put a finger on why. König pulled up to the massive, barbed wire-lined fence. A man in full military gear and a large gun strolled up to the window. You hadn't noticed that König out his hood in a while back. He rolled the window down and quickly flashed his ID to the soldier. The man nodded and waved his hand in the air. The gate slid open almost painfully slowly. König placed a hand on your thigh as he drove slowly through the base. It helped calm you for the time being. 

There was a large building with a few dozen cars parked outside. König Parked the SUV rather haphazardly a good distance away from the entrance. When you opened the door you heard faint music coming from the building and lots of voices and laughter. Your alpha lapped the car and met you on the passenger side. You started to walk towards the door but he stopped you.

“What is the matter, Schatz?” His eyes softly gazed down at you. 

“Nothing is wrong, I'm fine.” You said quickly.

“If you are uncomfortable, we can go.” He gently caressed your cheek., his scent enveloping your senses. 

“I'm ok, I'm just a little nervous.” Deep down you knew something was off, but you were confident you could get through this night. 

“Shcatz, You forgot your collar.” König said nonchalantly.

You gasped and your hand flew up to your neck covering your exposed scent glands. 

“Oh no! Why didn't you tell me? Now I'm gonna stink up a storm in there.” You turned around embarrassed and even more on edge. 

Your Alpha said nothing, he simply opened the back door of the car and pulled out a small black bag before closing the door. He spun you around by the waist to face him waving the bag in front of you. You glanced at him unsure before taking the bag. König gave you a small nod waiting for you to open it. Inside was a large square jewelry box. When you opened it it held the most beautiful gold metal collar. The one you looked at from the boutique a while ago. 

“König....” You truly didn't know what to say. Tears pricked your eyes but you quickly wiped them away and replaced them with a smile. 

“Thank you, Alpha.” You said while wrapping your arms around his middle. 

He held you close and kissed the top of your head through his hood gently. He pulled away and took the collar out of its box. He clasped it around your neck locking it with the provided key. It fit perfectly, you could barely tell it was there. König held the small key out for you to take but you shook your head. 

“Keep it safe for me Alpha.” You said giving him a warm smile. 

Although you couldn't see his face, you could tell he was happy you trusted him with the key. König held out his elbow for you to hold and led you towards the event. You were still nervous but you brushed it off, you had someone there to protect you. The large hall was buzzing with conversation. Most people were sitting around in large groups having conversations and others were at the bar. There were string lights hung all around the ceiling giving the place a relaxing atmosphere. König led you to the bar eager to get a drink. Parties are not you or your Alpha's natural element.

He ordered a beer for himself and a gin and tonic for you. As you waited you glanced around taking in the different people. You were probably one of the very few omegas. You could tell who was military and who wasn't very easily. Some were still in uniform, others wore masks or dog tags. Some soldiers brought a plus one but it was a minority. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a figure approaching. You turned to see a familiar mohawk. 

“Hey! There they are!” Soap exclaimed pulling you into a bone-crushing hug. You could smell the alcohol on him. 

“Hey, soap.” You eked out while being squeezed. 

Soap turned to König and gave the large Apex a hug as well. König grunted, a little uncomfortable with the contact but patted his back affectionately. 

“We've been waiting for you two to get here, everyone wants to meet the Colonel's Mrs.” His Scottish accent was thick and slightly slurred. 

The bartender set your drinks down and you quickly scooped yours up and took a sip. Soap led both of you away toward a group of men. You lingered behind König slightly allowing him to greet the group first. Soap announced your name loudly sparing König of the burden. You waved shyly giving everyone a small smile. Everyone greeted you and your Alpha before returning to the conversation they were having. You were grateful the attention on you didn't last as you could sip your cocktail and listen to the drunken ramblings of the soldiers. 

As the night dragged on, you met various people. You chatted with Ghost a bit and met Captain Price, as well as Gaz. Though the drunker people go the more rowdy things become. You sat on a chair near the group, only on your second drink. Your Alpha was loosening up after four. Soap suggested they go out to the field and play football, challenging Ghost to a team match. The whole group along with some others from the party joined them outside. König glanced over at you. 

“Will you be ok if I join them?” He asked gingerly.

“Of course, go have fun.” You gave him a reassuring smile. 

You watched him follow his coworkers out of the door into the frigid night. You decided to hang out at the bar as your drink was almost done. Although the night has been fine so far there was still something nagging in the back of your head. You plopped down on one of the bar stools and ordered another drink. Good thing this event had an open bar. You scrolled on your phone for a while not noticing how fast an hour has passed. An Alpha sat on the bar stool next to yours sighing loudly. You didn't bother acknowledging him as many people have sat there in the time that has passed. 

“It's a nice night huh? Not too cold.” The guy said in a European accent you can't place. 

You looked up from your phone. “Oh, are you talking to me?” 

“Yeah, I am. So uh, are you a new recruit or?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Oh no, I'm just a visitor.” You glanced back at your phone hoping he would leave you alone. 

“I've never seen an omega like you.” 

“An omega like me?” You looked at him puzzled.

“Yeah, you're so exotic. I thought omegas like you have to stay in your own countries.” He said while taking a sip of his drink. 

“Well, that's rude and extremely ignorant.” You scowled at him.

“Come on, it's a compliment. I mean I knew your kind your be spicy but damn.” He chuckled. 

You took that as your cue to leave. And you stood up from the bar your felt a tug on the crown of your head. 

“I mean, is this even your real hair?” He rubbed the hair he grabbed in between his fingers. 

You ripped away from his grip. “What is wrong with you?! Don't touch me!” You yelled. Everyone at the bar turned to look in your direction. 

“Relax, I'm just joking around.” The Alpha said trying to diffuse the situation. 

“You don't touch a random person's hair, who raised you?!” 

You felt a hand rest on your shoulder gently from behind. The Alpha you were confronting turned pale. 

“Schatz? What did he do?” Your Alpha asked lowly.

 You turned to face König anger still written all over your face. As angry as you were, you wanted this to be a teaching moment for this young Alpha. You turned back to the Alpha who was standing up now sweat forming on his face. 

“Nothing Alpha, this guy just needs to watch where he's going, right?” You eyed him carefully. 

“Yes! Yes, I'm very sorry miss.” He looked down at your feet. 

You looked up at König who seemed unconvinced. He was staring daggers into the young Alpha. You saw König take a deep breath closing his eyes while doing so. When he opened them he looked down at you.

“Time to go, it's a long drive home.” He placed a hand on the small of your back and led you out.

 Some people glanced in your direction as you left. You couldn't help but feel embarrassed. You hurried to the car in an effort to get out of the cold. König opened your door for you and helped you slide into the passenger seat. 

“I forgot something inside, I'll be right back.” He said quickly shutting the door and storming back inside the building. 

You couldn't tell if he was about to torture that soldier or not. But you did what you could, if he gets in trouble it's his own fault. König came back out no more than two minutes later. As he started the car, you got cozy relishing in the heated air. 

“What did you forget?” You ask him.

“I had a project for Ghost, I had to tell him about it.”

“Hmm.” You responded, not buying it completely. 

As your Alpha drove, the gentle rocking of the car lulled you to sleep.

As your Alpha drove, the gentle rocking of the car lulled you to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

König shook you awake gently. “We're home.”

You stirred and sat up stretching gently. You felt warm, a little too warm. Did you drink that much? You followed König into the apartment and kicked off your shoes at the door. That's when the cramp hit you. It was so painful it made you dizzy causing you to stumble. König caught you by the arm and ushered you to the couch.

“Schatz? You're burning up.” He laid you down and hurried to the kitchen.

You felt the sweat forming on your brow. Your heat had come early. You whined into the couch cushions trying to breathe through the dull achy pain. König brought some water and sat you up to drink.

“Why didn't you tell me your heat was coming?” he said concerned.

“Early...it came early.”

taglist: i hope i got everyone

@that-fangirl-1106 @itsryuken

@midwesternwitchery @hiken-no-stark  @rouge-swears

@gxdsmonsters @the-chaotic-cow @a-gay-cryptid @smutslutsposts @wybwtjmiadz

@somanyminidragons 

@tizylish @thychuvaluswife

@luvamps @ghostslittlegf @justkillme2005

@fishballgr3mlin @mitrr  @simpytheshrimpy69 @maladaptivedaydreamingbum @sweet-can-of-beer @immajustlikeok @dinonacho

@undeadgod  @multy-fandom-lover @cloudyyjanee  @bobafett-tea @mxkaylaj @evilcherries

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@zalyluvvs @backgroundgirl887 @beebeechaos @bitchoftoji @urfavsunkissedleo @emmbny @capricorn-anon @sigthechild @justkillme2005 @ghostslittlegf @fieldsofbats @magicleopard69 @cassiecasluciluce @kenz-ee @mysticfire0435 @floralarcher

[junplusone]

seventeen as engineering majors

notes: hi i have nothing to say for myself except this is partially @imujings's fault and also my self indulgence so here we go (can you tell what my major is..... lol)

warnings: ehh swearing, i namedrop companies, eng jargon

-

CHOI SEUNGCHEOL - civil engineering

if you know, you know

is very proud of his program despite all the jokes (he shouldn't be) sorry im biased

"we're better than the meches"

never had to take dynamics in his LIFE omg

100% has a poster of the golden gate bridge on his wall and gets made fun of for it

is convinced one day when he's making bank and jeonghan is jobless he'll finally be vindicated

YOON JEONGHAN - mechanical engineering

did have to take dynamics & almost failed it

(he's smart, he was just too lazy to submit any of the homework that was also worth 60% of his grade)

gets salty at career fairs when most of the employers are construction companies

competing with the 24853874534 other meches for class sections

leaning into the "jack of all trades master of ????"

has a superiority complex over the aeros

HONG JOSHUA - computer engineering

should have just been a cs major tbh

compe is the bottom of the engineering food chain

but nobody has the heart to tell him that bc he's too kind

hangs out with the likes of yoon jeonghan but still never skips class

wants to create his own video game

probably got an internship at a fortune 100 company

has hella connections and WILL ask them to nepo you too bc he's that nice

WEN JUNHUI - aerospace engineering

has had enough of the lockheed martin jokes

does NOT !!! wanna work in defense he's a sustainable fuel guy

spacecraft development companies pleaseeee hire him

lets the meches have beef w him bc he dgaf what they think, but gets annoyed when they start competing w him for jobs

sidequest king (double minor in math & ecology AND he wants to try his hand at law school???? wtf)

locks in so freaking hard when he has to but is just silly otherwise - he's that student you never see studying but then they ace the exam

KWON SOONYOUNG - chemical engineering

is the one making lockheed martin jokes in front of junhui

but definitely picked cheme because someone told him he can make bombs

had to retake orgo twice but then passed inorganic chemistry with flying colors

academic wild card #1

always ends up with 8:30s bc he never wakes up on time for class registration

#1 merck worshipper pls hire him omg

LEE JIHOON - computer engineering

is at the bottom of the engineering food chain, but unlike joshua he knows & owns it

is a cs minor so it's slightly more excusable

probably has hella shit on github

definitely following more companies on linkedin than he has connections

double major in music production & plays clarinet in the pep band

you will never see him without his headphones on

JEON WONWOO - electrical engineering

actually very strongly dislikes that electrical & comp are grouped together as ece

likes the versatility of his major

probably never had a single morning class in his life

def came into college proficient in a bunch of programming languages

sits at the back of the lecture hall

never ever studies outside of his dorm bc he likes using his huge desk monitor

KIM MINGYU - biomedical engineering

so sick of every single person he meets assuming he's a premed student

has definitely accidentally broken flasks in his bio lab

was so elated when he found out orgo isn't a graduation requirement

always ALWAYS studies w a whiteboard

is one of the only guys in bme

you can always find him cooking up some food in the dorm's communal kitchen, he's always down for a conversation

LEE SEOKMIN - environmental engineering

minor in sustainability, he's an environmentally conscious sweetie pie!

the dream project groupmate

is one of like 15 people in his graduating class

wants to research water treatment technologies

"did you know using chatgpt is harmful to the environment?"

and he's right !!!!

took organic chemistry for fun and aced it even though mingyu warned him it would tank his gpa

XU MINGHAO - chemical engineering

really wants to work in the fragrance industry

always smells good, you'll never catch him lacking

another one of those people where you don't see them study ever but they still coast through classes

gets distracted when he's drawing out chemical compounds bc he tries too hard to get the lines perfect

and then starts sketching something else

second most nastiest side eye

BOO SEUNGKWAN - industrial & systems engineering

y'all know this man did not wanna do any work (jk i love my ise majors)

business admin double major & he's reaaaally good at it

everyone's jealous of the way he charms all the employers at the career fair how do u even do that like???

very intelligent but hated every calc class he had to take

always studies in the business building

nastiest side eye EVERRRRRR do not say anything stupid in front of him please he will vaporize you

CHWE HANSOL - materials science & engineering

walter white in the making

declared a chemistry minor and then never took the required classes

really enjoyed crystal chem

profs have a hard time grading his hw cause his handwriting lowkey looks like chicken scratches

the absolute chillest during finals week but nobody knows if it's because he studied way in advance or because he didn't study at all

academic wild card #2

such an 'it is what it is' guy tbh...

LEE CHAN - packaging engineering

ppl look confused when he tells them his major

is in it for the near 100% job placement

has a great time in all of his classes because they're so fun and the class size is like 8 kids

doesn't fully know what he wants to do later in life but he'll figure it out later

carpe diem kinda guy

wants to intern at a cosmetics company really really bad so he can take sample products home to his mom

let me know if u enjoyed this hehe :)

[roosterthefae]

Again (Tell Me That You Love Me Again)

Mobster!Joel Miller x Reader

Chapter 1 - You're No Good (word count - 4194)

Read On Ao3

(check ao3 for content warnings. i will be posting one on here tomorrow once i'm done school and my shift. so sorry for the inconvenience!)

- - -

Your fingers raced across the keyboard, furiously adding the final touches to your design layout. You’d lost track of time, but based on the twinkling stars just outside your apartment window, you knew you had been working on this for hours now.  

As much as you didn’t want to admit it, you were exhausted. From down the hall, you swear you heard your bed calling your name, and the urge to follow it was there.  

Alas, this project needed to be finished, and you weren’t about to waste all your years of education just to become lazy now that you were in the working world. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you groaned, begrudgingly returning to your work.  

In the background, the local news station was playing on your TV. You put on the channel randomly, opting for some background noise over the dreadful silence of your empty apartment. The sensation felt relatively unfamiliar to you. For the past six months, your apartment had been filled with the agitating sounds of the worst man on the planet. Your ex-boyfriend. 

Perhaps the silence wasn’t that bad. 

Still, you had watched enough horror movies to be cautiously aware of the dangers that came with being a single woman living alone in a big city. Maybe this fear was slightly irrational and did more harm than good, or perhaps you were reasonably on edge.  

Regardless, you didn’t love the feeling of jumping at every single sound, whether it was a car driving by or the rattle of your building from the wind. So, it was decided that late-night news was the best solution.  

It wasn’t the most entertaining—plus, a lot of the darker topics sometimes discussed, such as missing women in your area, just made your new living situation seem even more dreadful–but it kept you focused on your work. 

After your break-up, you choose to drown yourself in copious amounts of overtime. Your only other idea had been to binge-watch every early 2000s rom-com you could think of while inhaling an unhealthy amount of salted caramel ice cream; the latter did not seem as productive.  

The entire experience felt rather dehumanizing. You were a self-proclaimed independent who always could handle issues on your own. This didn’t mean you isolated yourself or anything. You were like anyone else with a tight-knit group of friends; maybe your parents weren’t exactly in the picture anymore, but that was fine. You built a life for yourself here in the city.  

You worked a waitress gig for four years while getting your bachelor's degree, found a job at a great company with amazing benefits, and then that company paid for you to get your master's in computer engineering. Not to brag or anything, but you had a pretty successful life that you made for yourself.  

Until you made the foolish mistake of dating again. You should’ve known it was never a good idea, but your best friend insisted on giving this guy a try. You did, reluctantly, just to please her. He was a detective, so you had high hopes. However, you were wrong. 

The first half of your relationship was fine, nothing out of the ordinary. It was months of occasional dates that you put most of the effort into planning and mediocre sex. You two moved in together, as it naturally was the next step, and everything was pretty decent. 

Until you found him in bed with another woman. 

In your bed. In your apartment. That you paid for on your own. 

The landlord hadn’t added his name to the lease yet, which you found hilarious. This guy was such a bum, he couldn’t even screw his whores in a place that he legally owned. You threw him out immediately. Apparently, he spent the next week crashing on his buddy's couch. You’re not sure what he is doing with his life now, and frankly, you don’t care.  

Nothing good came of that relationship except for a life lesson: you could handle yourself. You knew he wasn’t the man for you, but you clung to the idea that there was someone there for you.  

But maybe it would be nice for once to be taken care of. You don’t want to be coddled or anything. You’re a grown woman, for Christ’s sake, but the thought of having a person who truly cares about you was nice. Someone who wouldn’t get in the way, yet whose presence soothed you. 

You’re disrupted from your thoughts by the sound of sirens on the TV screen. 

It’s a clip of police cars all parked outside an abandoned warehouse by the docks. You watch as officers talk among themselves, some taking notes while others pace the scene. Behind them, an array of crime scene investigators and detectives can be seen. 

The screen changes to a young reporter. She taps the stack of papers against her desk, straightening them. Finally, she clears her throat and speaks, “Breaking news out of New York. Earlier tonight, local authorities attempted to intercept a drug shipment at the docks.” 

By now, your gaze is fully turned to the screen. “Using intel from an inside source, authorities sent a group of undercover police officers to stop a shipment of 500 kilograms of cocaine. However, the mission was a failure.” 

“The police encountered gunfire upon arrival. The assailants were prepared for officers to be there,” she continues, “It is unclear yet who led this attack, but many details point to the New York mafia, who–until recently–we have not heard from in quite some time.” 

Oh delightful, now the mafia was back. Just the cherry on top you needed for this already delightful month. 

Thankfully, no one died, but several police officers are currently hospitalized due to their injuries. However, police did not apprehend any of the assailants. After this turn of events, one can only wonder what will happen next. Will we be hearing more tales about the mafia, or will this be the start of another criminal down period?” 

You turn back to your work as the reporter transitions into another story. You’ve been living in the city for over a decade now, but gangs, mobsters, the mafia–whatever you want to call it–you’re still not used to. These were topics you never thought of while living suburban life–except for movies, of course.  

There’s already too much on your plate right now, so you brush it off, returning to your screen. It's not like these mobs will ever affect you, so there's no point in stressing about it. 

You feel yourself nod off and log out of your laptop, making your way to your bedroom down the hall. You don’t bother to pack up the mess of papers thrown across your coffee table, preferring sleep over organization.  

You cannot describe with words how nice it feels to submerge yourself deep within the mountain of blankets that covers your bed. 

- - - 

“It’s done,” Tess stated from the other line. “The targets have been dealt with.” 

Joel nodded along with her words. He was currently standing in the corner of the warehouse. A warehouse on the opposite end of the coast from where the police officers were. He felt a sense of pride, knowing that he had orchestrated this entire plan. “Thank you, Tess. I knew I could count on you.” 

Tess let out a sharp laugh through the phone. “You owe me for saving your ass again.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll see you at Frank’s tonight. Your drinks are on me.” 

“That’s more like it, Miller.” Joel has been working with Tess for years now, ever since he left Boston–he prefers to word it like that rather than say he was chased out. She was one of the few people Joel would trust with his life. 

There was a pause; Tess continued. “So, what are you guys planning to do with that kid, anyway?” 

Joel sighed, rubbing a hand through his hair. “Tommy is with the fucker right now,” Joel turned around to face the centre of the room, and sure enough, Tommy had the crook tied up in a chair; a group of their men standing behind him. Between sharp punches, Tommy’s making plenty of crude comments, but they’re all buried beneath the sound of shrieking. 

“No shit, really? I couldn’t tell,” Tess remarks, “Surprised you weren’t itching to get your hands on him first.” 

Joel scoffs, “Oh, trust me, I’ll be having my turn at him soon enough.” 

Tess seems pleased by this, letting out a soft chuckle. “Why am I not surprised? I’m expecting one hell of a story once I see you in person.” 

Joel watches as Tommy lands one last blow to the guy's jaw. There’s a sickening crack, and he even notices some guys behind Tommy wince. For a moment, Tommy just stands there, catching his breath, admiring his handiwork.  

The boy is now covered in a mural of blood and bruising, but it's still not enough. There needs to be consequences for these sorts of things. 

Finally, Tommy turns to face Joel, cracking the knuckles he had just been using. “Mind finishing the job?” He nods toward the product of his doing. 

“Gotta go, Tess,” Joel says flatly. 

“Finally!” Tess cheers, “Don’t disappoint me, Miller.” 

Joel hangs up without saying goodbye, sauntering to the centre of the warehouse. An eerie silence comes with him, slowly filling the room. Even in his most violent moments, Tommy carries himself as a charming, upbeat guy. His demeanor makes these dark moments almost feel like they’re entertainment. 

The feeling fades away as Joel walks across the room. There’s a shift in the air; a sharp contrast to the more laid-back environment. No one dares to even glimpse at this scene in amusement, because it's not funny. 

What Joel Miller is about to do here is far from amusing. 

The boy—the rat—hesitantly lifts his gaze from the floor to Joel. His breath is shaky as his own snot runs down his face, onto his now-tattered clothes. 

“Please,” he sobs, “please don’t do this.” 

There’s a beat, but it's not of hesitation, no. Joel stands there, pondering what the best course of action will be. How does he wish to kill this man in order to get his message across? He’s not Tommy. He won’t make a show of this. God, no. 

Without breaking eye contact with the beaten boy, Joel says, “Everyone out.” 

There's a flurry of feet across the concrete floor. Joel listens as he hears the sliding of the warehouse-doors, opened then closed. For once, the room is barren, except for Tommy, who still notably stands by Joel’s side. 

“Figured you might need a hand,” Tommy smirked. 

Joel stares at him, face void of any expression. 

“Okay, fine,” Tommy takes a step back and sighs, “I just want to watch you do your thing.” 

Ah, yes, his ‘thing’, cold-hearted murder. You know, when you’re forced to spend your teenage years helping mobsters smuggle drugs and launder money, you learn a thing or two about the many ways to kill a man. After joining the Boston mob together, Joel tried to shield his brother from as much as possible.  

The four-year age difference might not seem like much now, but it's a pretty big deal when you’re 15 years old trying to stop your 11-year-old brother from being deeply traumatized before even going through puberty. Unfortunately, there's only so much defending that can be done when you’re working with the mob.  

Yet, here they are now. Not-so-little-anymore Tommy awaits eagerly for his brother to slaughter a man. 

How time flies. 

Joel thinks about it for a second. He believes he does his best work on his own, allowing the vulgarity to fully consume him within his isolation, but Tommy is here, and there's no point in sending him out now. 

Joel points toward some boxes in the corner of the room. “Grab me that lead pipe, would ya?” 

A grin spreads across Tommy’s face as he hurries across the room. “On it.” 

Joel doesn’t bother to view the terror that's found itself plastered across his victim's face. No, it's unnecessary. He will hear the terror just fine once he’s swinging that pipe into the boy’s already beaten body. 

- - - 

The next morning, Joel finds himself in the office of the deadliest man on the East Coast. 

He gives Joel a suffocating hug. 

“You’ve done it again, my boy!” Russell Wesley squeezes Joel tighter, as if that's even possible. He’s a decent bit taller than Joel is, though he’s stopped putting so much effort into his appearance as he’s gotten older. Beneath the brim of his hat, Joel sees a few stray grey hairs peeking out.  

Back when Joel first met Wesley, the man’s hair was as black as coal. Though Joel can’t judge too hard; he’s sporting his own salt-and-pepper look at the moment. 

Joel shimmies himself out of Wesley’s grasp. “It’s just another job.” 

Wesley wastes no time in cutting Joel off. “Ah-ah, but there’s no one who could’ve been as efficient as you.” 

Even Joel’s humbleness does not stop him from agreeing. Joel may not be the most charming or admirable man, but he makes up for it with his talent. The ability to kill a man well is one that Joel finds pride in. 

“I mean, c’mon,” Wesley continues, “you found our perp, knew how to feed him the right false information, and planned an attack that’ll leave the police department in shambles for a decent few weeks. Y’know, there’s not a lot of men out there capable of such.” 

Joel rolls his eyes, “Nothing you haven’t handled before.” 

A soft chuckle comes from Wesley. He pulls open a drawer from his desk, rummaging through its contents. “I suppose you’re right,” Finally, Wesley pulls out a cigar. “I got into a lotta trouble back in the day.” 

“You still do.” 

“Old habits die hard,” he reaches into one of his blazer pockets and pulls out an old flip-top lighter. The thing is insanely vintage; Joel’s never seen Wesley without it, but the man cares for it like it's his own child. 

Once the cigar’s in his mouth, Wesley flicks on his lighter. Joel watches as the flame strikes the foot of the cigar. He takes a deep inhale before generously handing the cigar over to Joel. 

Joel takes it with ease, placing the head between his lips. He inhales, letting the smoke fill his lungs. The sharp taste of tobacco eases his mind. 

“Miller, did I ever tell you about my time down in Philly?” 

“Once or twice,” Joel responds. 

“Yeah, well, with a story like that, it's hard not to tell it,” Wesley says, “a man only becomes the boss once in his life.” 

“Am I just here to listen to you tell stories?” 

Wesley eyes him from across the desk, “Are you opposed to that?” 

Joel hands the cigar back to Wesley after a beat, “Go ahead. No one’s stopping you.” 

Wesley grins, “This is why I love ya Miller.” 

Joel can’t help but roll his eyes. 

“You see, my dear friend Earl and I had been sent out. Now, Earl, God, this kid was a nutcase. I mean, for Christ’s sake, he’s practically bouncing off the wall, must’ve had a few screws loose in his head, but he was a damn good talker. Coulda got us outta any trouble that came our way, yet this fucker hardly ever tried.” 

Wesley continues, “So we’re down in Philly–still not even old enough to legally drink–and we're supposed to be picking up a drop-off for our boss. The guys come, and they’re clearly shorting us; I’m talking half of the product they promised us wasn’t there. So, I’m talking to these fellas, and they couldn't care less about what I had to say; I was a goddamn nobody.” 

“And a guy with the name Earl wasn’t?” Joel adds. 

“Fuck no,” Wesley ignores Joel’s comment, “Hard not to be known when you’re starting fights everywhere you go. Now Earl’s riling these guys up. I’m telling him to smarten the fuck up and get us out of there, and you know what the fucker does?” 

There's a beat before Joel realizes Wesley is waiting for a response. “What did he do?” he asks flatly. 

“Motherfucker pulls out a gun and blows a hole straight into one of the guy's skulls. So, now we're in a standoff. Earl’s shooting at these guys, adding more snarky comments here and there, just to keep them pissed off. Not me. I hunker myself behind a crate like the coward I am, then I see it.” 

Wesley’s eyes light up, “Through a cracked-open back door, I see a truck full of the rest of what we were promised. I realize at this moment that no one's expecting quiet little Russ to be getting himself into any extra trouble. So, I sneak out the back, hot-wire the truck, and start yelling for Earl to get his ass outside.” 

“One hell of a story.” 

“Yeah, and it gets better,” Wesley grins, practically bouncing off his seat, “We get back home and our boss is rightfully pissed. He starts cussing out Earl for his behaviour. I straight up think my buddy's gonna die until Earl breaks the news that we got the product. The best part, Earl gives me full credit for it. It's at that moment I watch as my boss looks at me–and I mean, finally looks at me. This guy has seen me before, but I don’t think he's ever actually given two shits about me until that moment. Later that night, he calls me down and tells me he's gonna start training me to take over once he's gone.” 

“And now, here we are,” Joel adds. 

“Exactly.” 

“Look, can I be frankly honest with you?” Joel asks. He waits until Wesley nods. “That story is a bunch of horseshit.” 

“Yeah, but it's fucking more interesting than me just saying my boss sat me across his desk, gave me a cigar, and told me the job was mine. Is that what you plan on telling people, Joel?” 

There is a shift in the air. Joel stares from across the desk at the old bastard, shocked into silence. “Now, what are you implying here?” 

“I ain’t implying anything, Miller,” Wesley shrugs casually, as if he didn’t just shake Joel’s world. “I’m just curious what story you’re going to come up with to tell people how you became boss.” 

With the life Joel leads, there are very few moments where he is at a loss for words. Yet, here he is, mouth sealed shut. Wesley looks at him with no expression. He’s thrown this onto Joel like it’s small talk; nothing extraordinary. 

Wesley continues, “I wouldn’t have picked you if I thought you weren’t up to the job.” 

“It's not that it's just,” Joel rubs his hands across his face. “Jesus, Russ, you can’t just throw this onto a guy.” 

“Miller, I’m fucking old. I don’t take care of myself enough; I won’t live as long as the average fella. There’s no one I believe in as much as you to trust that this whole ordeal runs smoothly.” Wesley explains. He takes a hit before passing the cigar back to Joel. 

Joel takes the fattest drag he has had in a while. “What about Maria, or Bill, or Tess? Fuck, even Tommy.” 

“You and I both know Bill is off the table. Love the bugger, but he’d burn this place to the ground. Be fucking realistic, Miller.” 

“Okay, well, what about the others,” Joel says, with a venom laced in his voice that he didn’t intend to be there. He is becoming significantly more riled up than he expected, but in his defense, he feels that this was unfairly thrown on him with no notice. 

Wesley sighs, “Tess is bright. One of the smartest bitches we have. But she doesn’t have that leadership in her. Look, independence is a marvelous skill to have. It's why I send her out on solo missions. But for this position, I need someone who's gonna lead.” 

“What about Maria and Tommy?” Joel sharply states, “You don’t want your daughter and her husband running the family business?” 

“So, you’re saying you don’t count as family, Miller?” Wesley barks. 

“You know I didn’t-” Joel tries to respond, but he is quickly interrupted. 

Wesley is done with Joel’s pandering. He gives Joel a cruel look that's borderline a glare. “It can’t be Maria. She’s off getting her doctorate, trying to live a normal life–earn herself some clean money. I don’t want to stop my baby girl from trying to achieve her dreams. Then there’s Tommy.” Wesley sighs, “Look, if you weren’t an option, I’d pick Tommy, but-” 

“Pick Tommy then.” 

“Shut your mouth and listen to me, Miller! There is no one better than you.” Wesley slams his hand on the desk. 

The smack silences the room. Neither speak for a moment until Wesley clears his throat. 

“You have this atmosphere about you, Joel. It’s dizzying. You instill a fear in people that no other man can. You have this internal drive that pushes you harder than anyone I’ve ever seen before. There’s just something about you, Miller, that will never be replicated. Whatever that is, I don’t want it to be wasted. It’d be the biggest mistake I ever made if I didn’t choose you.” 

Joel stares ahead, trying to mask all expressions on his face. This cannot be happening—Wesley must be insane. 

He never expected this to be how his life would go. After leaving Texas with only his brother, a rust bucket for a car, and the grand that they had saved up, Joel expected them to be screwed.  

They made it to Boston, where Joel found work with the wrong group of people. It wasn’t the best situation, but it kept them fed. Few years later, things turned sour. Joel and Tommy were given an option: leave Boston themselves, or leave in a casket. 

Now here he was, being asked to be a mob boss. 

Wesley sighed, “Look, Joel, I want you to think about it-” 

“I’m not doing it,” Joel cut him off. 

Wesley muttered under his breath. The conversation was no longer the friendly, reminiscent chat it had started as. The two men were now in a stand-off. Joel had never seen Wesley this angry with him. There was a beat before Wesley spoke again. “You’re a fool, Joel.” 

“That’s fine by me. I’d rather be a fool than take this job.” 

“I have so many men who would die to be in your position, yet you’re here just throwing it away.” 

Joel rolled his eyes, “Then give it to one of those men.” 

“Jesus, fuck, Joel,” Wesley abruptly stood up, pushing his desk as he did so. Papers, previously nicely piled on the desk, were flung onto the floor along with pens and other stationery. “I cannot believe this.” 

“I’m not doing it,” Joel stood his ground. “Find someone else.” 

“Oh, I ain’t finding someone else,” Wesley stormed across the room to his liquor cabinet in the back. He grabbed a glass and poured himself a drink. “If you’re not doing this, Miller, then you’re getting my dirty work until you change your mind.” 

“Nothing I haven’t done before,” Joel continued, “You know I’ve worked my way from bottom to top in two different mobs now.” 

Wesley let out a sharp laugh, still turned away from Joel. “Trust me, Joel; I have plenty of options. I could send you on an undercover mission that’ll take years. You’ll do errands with the newbies–collect debts and shit. Fuck, you’ll be my own human shield if that’s what it takes.” 

“Try me,” Joel taunted. “I’ve done it all. There is absolutely nothing you could throw at me I wouldn’t be able to handle.” 

Wesley took a swig of his drink—brandy, neat. He turned around and looked Joel straight in the eye. “Are you sure about this, Joel?” 

“I would rather take whatever job you give me than become the boss,” Joel stated matter-of-factly. “No matter what, I refuse.” 

Silence. Wesley rubbed his face and groaned. “I’m awfully upset with ya, Miller. I expected more from you.” 

“We’re far past the point of guilt, Russell,” Joel stated. “Tell me. What’s my punishment?” 

Wesley didn’t speak for a second, still with his hands in his head. Joel watched as the gears turned, creating the worst punishment. Suddenly, Wesley’s head perked up. He darted across the room toward the papers that had been strewn across the floor in the older man’s anger. Once Wesley grabbed the paper he was looking for, he turned to Joel with a wide smirk on his face. 

“You sure you don’t want to change your mind?” 

“Never.” 

Wesley just nodded and smiled. He sat down in his chair as if he were the happiest man on Earth. Finally, Wesley asked, “Joel, have you ever been a babysitter?” 

- - -

Author's Notes:

Thank you so much for reading the very first chapter of my very first fic!!! I've been planning this for a while now, and I think you guys will enjoy the upcoming story.

Let me know your thoughts and if there is anything you'd like me to include in the future.

I don't have a posting schedule yet, but my goal is about 1-2 chapters a week. I'm still in school so we will see how that works out. I actually wrote majority of this first chapter while I was home after getting my wisdom teeth removed, so, I haven't even tried balancing writing and schoolwork yet.

Anyways, this is going to be an exciting journey for all of us and I look forward to whatever comes next.

xoxo, Rooster <3

[sincerealev]

Thank you @milksteakkk for giving me an excuse to talk about them too 🕺🏻

Here goes:

Alana is a lesbian, and Jared is gay. Mlm 🤝 wlw solidarity

The way Alana discovered she was a lesbian is that she was watching a movie with Julie Andrews and then she was just hit with the realization

→ (Yes she had/has a crush on Julie Andrews, especially in The Sound Of Music)

Honestly, I think she'd enjoy vintage musical movies

Jared probably had a celebrity crush on Keanu Reeves at one point. I thought of this just now and it just made sense to me

Jared is the shortest of the friend group. Like, 5'5

→ Alana is slightly taller than him, like 5'6 or 5'7 (and then Evan is taller than her, like 5'9, for reference)

Jared's wardrobe is a mess, in the way that generally every morning he'll just put on whatever he finds first in his closet, doesn't take time to meticulously choose clothes that match

→ His favorite shirt is one that has a picture of a bowling ball knocking some bowling pins, and in comic sans it just says "bowling" underneath

Alana is the opposite, of course. She chooses her outfit of the day the night prior

Honestly, she's very grandmacore

→ She lives with her grandma too (yes, I know in canon she said her grandma died, but also, everyone has two sets of grandparents so shhh,,)

Jared collects stuff like miniature dinosaur figures or rocks. And also has a vast collection of comics, from vintage comics to the newest ones

Alana loves baking, when she's not busy with school work and such. Almost every week she'll come to school with baggies of cookies, or a Tupperware with cake to share with her friends :-)

She volunteers in a local library

Jared is kind of lazy, or more like distracted when it comes to school, but he also doesn't slack. He always ends up doing his assignments, studying for tests, and getting good grades (but the majority of the time he leaves stuff for the day before, which he regrets everytime)

When he's bored in class Jared will color in the squares in a notebook page with pencil

As patient and calm as she is, Alana can visibly get angry if you get in her nerves (this refers to Jared most of the time). She's good at controlling her anger though

→ Both Alana and Jared bicker a lot, honestly. It's kind of funny to see

Jared has three pairs of glasses. One of them are prescription sunglasses, which he uses to feel cool

For college, Jared studied software engineering or computer science

As for Alana, maybe she studied law or something to become a lawyer maybe?

→ I thought of that just now because I feel like she's very good at debating, and she's very neat and organized in everything she does, loves public speaking, uses logical reasoning all the time... Y'know. Tell me what you think :0

I think that's enough hcs or this will get very long. What do you guys think 🕺🏻

Here's a drawing of them (ft. Evan) me and my gf @devildarling08 made :-) (it's from a boarding school AU we made together)

[bardoftheshire]

Heres something I've been thinking about working on for a while now and I'm finally getting to it. Heres the pilot of it, let me know if you guys want me to make it into a full series (which I might do anyways🧍‍♂️)

Here's the link on Ao3 for the series if you prefer to read on there :)

Weird Science | Pilot Chapter

Egon Spengler x Fem Reader

Summary; honestly I don't know what I'm gonna do with this, I'll leave the summary to finish later.💀

Notes; This is a fem reader and it is mentioned quite a bit, this is to make things a little easier to write but I may consider making it a gender neutral reader if enough people want it and ask. [This is also kind of a long one for a pilot chapter.]

Warnings; Some swearing and mentions of smoking. [Also very very minor mentions of drinking.]

Part 1/? | Next Chapter>

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶︶꒷︶︶︶︶꒦꒷꒦︶︶꒷꒦︶︶꒦︶︶︶꒦꒷

"Hey, can you hand me that soldering iron please?" I say, holding my hand out.

"Of course Dr. L/n," Theodore says, handing the iron carefully.

Theodore Thalmann was a freshman student majoring in Computer Engineering at Columbia University, the very University I've worked at for 7 years now.

Theodore came for an internship to work with me, wanting to learn a little more visually than just reading some book, writing down notes, and listening to some old guy talk for hours on end, and frankly you couldn't really blame him for not wanting to deal with that.

Theodore was a sharp kid, not lazy like most of these kids now, and willing to learn rather than just be here for some extra credit, that's what you liked about him so much.

"Do you need anything else Dr. L/n?" Theodore asks, writing a bit more into his notebook.

Just then, a knock at the door interrupted your thoughts.

"Yes actually, can you go get that for me?" You reply, taking the protective glasses off of your face.

You get up out of your chair, taking off your black rubber gloves and placing them in their respective area. You liked things organised in your lab, it was much easier to find exactly what you needed, and it was also that you never liked a mess where there was work.

"Is Dr. L/n in here? I need to have a word with her." A voice you were far too familiar with comes from the door where Theodore was standing.

Oh, this can't be good.

"Yes she is, come on in Mr. Yeager," Theodore says, letting the man inside the lab.

"Ms. L/n, pleasure to see you again.. as always." The man says snarkily.

You turn around and walk towards him.

"Hello, Mr. Yeager. Come to complain about the music volume again? I promise I hadn't played anything today, whatever you might've heard must've been someone else."

"No, actually, I wanted to talk to you about something more serious. Do you think you can get this student to be somewhere else so its a more private conversation?" The Dean says, smiling sarcastically.

Dean Yeager wasn't exactly fond of you, hense the use of your last name rather than Dr. L/n, regardless of how hard you had worked for that title. But to be quite fair, you weren't very fond of him either, so it was more of a mutual hate. There were probably a lot of reasons why he wasn't very big on you, but one of the most obvious had to be the fact that you played your music too loud while you worked. Far.. too loud.

"Of course sir. Um, Mr. Thalmann, would you mind stepping outside for a few moments? Me and Dean Yeager need to speak to eachother in private," You say, turning towards Theodore.

Theodore gives a nod and takes off his pair of gloves, placing them haphazardly on a nearby worktable then stepping outside of the lab, shutting the door.

"So, Ms. L/n, I wanted to inform you that you will no longer be working here at the university, I'm giving you a one month notice so that way you may pack all that you have and get out of here by then, is that understood?" Dean Yeager says, a shit eating grin on his face.

"Excuse me?" You say, after a few moments of silence.

"I said you are out of here in a month, fired, let go of, from the university, Ms. L/n," He repeats, venom laced in his voice.

"But wh-what am I supposed to do about Mr. Thalmann? I can't just tell him-" You stutter, still letting the fact you're being fired sink in.

"We will move him with Professor Dietz, someone that actually has a degree to teach, Ms. L/n". He says, cutting you off.

"But I've worked here for more than five years now, you can't just let me go. I graduated from this very University Mr. Yeager, for what reason do I deserve to be let go?" You say, anger becoming more prominent in your voice as you continue to speak.

"We are letting you go because of the constant loud music, because of the constant loss of electricity on the campus due to your failed experiments, because of your lack of necessity and funding of being here, Ms. L/n. We cannot continue to fund and pay you just for you to cause disruptions and only be useful to students if they are working under you as an intern. Even when you do have them, they only complain about how you do absolutely nothing in ways of teaching them, you are the issue, Ms. L/n."

The students don't think I teach them? But they've never complained.

The thought of the past interns you've had having bad thoughts about you and your ways of teaching them hurt far more then being fired. Sure, you got good pay from the university and your projects were funded, but the students wanting to come in and learn more about what you just so happen to love was the reason why you were still working there in the first place. And sure, you would sometimes blast music while showing and teaching them, but they never complained.

"The students never complain though, I do my absolute best to teach them Mr. Yeager, I don't underst-"

"That is the last of this conversation, Ms. L/n! You will be out of here in one month, and you will get no more students doing internships with you from right now to the day that you are completely gone from this place! Goodbye, Doctor." Dean Yeager says, walking out of the lab, shutting the door.

After a few moments Theodore comes back into the lab, slowly and gently closing the door.

"Ah, Mr. Thalmann, um there's going to be a change in plans for you with this internship unfortunately. I hope you don't mind but you'll be moved to go and work with Professor Dietz starting tomorrow, I do apologise," You say, straightening your back.

Theodore stays quiet for a minute, the air thick with awkwardness.

"What Dean Yeager said about all the other students disliking you and your teaching, I don't agree with him. I like your teaching and don't think its right of Dean Yeager to just fire you on the spot like that, Dr. L/n." Theodore says awkwardly, trying to lighten the mood of the room.

"Thank you, Mr. Thalmann, but unfortunately that still doesn't change my situation about my work here. I truly do appreciate all of your help and willingness to learn more, especially from me for these past couple of weeks. You're a great student and I'll be honest, I envy Professor Dietz for getting to teach you," You say, a slight smile on your face.

"Thank you, Dr. L/n, do you need any help cleaning up?" Theodore asks, taking the rubber gloves from the table and placing them next to yours.

"No, no, there's no need for that at all, you're free to go early today, thank you for the help Mr. Thalmann."

"Alright, thank you again for teaching me Doctor, I hope everything else goes well for you," Theodore puts the lab coat you let him borrow folded up onto a clear table, then leaves the lab.

You sit down in your rolly chair, clearly worn out as it was bought almost 8 years ago in the late 70s. Even with its rips and threads sticking out from it, as well as the black soot stains and worn cushions, it was still comfortable and somewhat soothing. It reminded you of when you first started working here, about a year after you graduated from the university. And now that you think about it it makes you a little upset that for the past 12 years now this university is all you knew.

Sure you had your own apartment and went out for groceries sometimes, but you never had friends that you still kept in touch with, so you never really went to bars or parties. And at this point having an apartment proved useless as most of the time you would fall asleep in your lab, you would eat in the university's cafeteria, and after that you would just get back to work and drown every other sound out with music from the radio or your cassette tapes.

You get up and grab your coat, leaving the lab to go outside.

You pat your pockets and pull out the cigarette tin, hoping you hadn't run out of any, and to your relief you had just two more left. Grabbing one out of the tin and placing it lightly hanging from your mouth, then lighting it and inhaling the smoke.

You make a mental note that you'll have to go to the drugstore and buy some more.

"What the hell am I gonna do now?" You mutter to yourself, taking another drag of your cigarette.

"Y/n? Is that you?"

You turn your head to see an old friend you hadn't been in touch with since you've graduated at this university.

"Ray?"

"It is you! Oh am I glad to see you. Its been, gosh, how many years now? How have you been? What are you doing here?" Ray says excitedly, asking a million questions all at once.

"Its so great to see you too, Ray. I've been okay these past years, and I work here actually." You say, giving a light chuckle.

Well, more so like you worked here.

"You work here?"

"Yeah, I've been working here since after we graduated actually, what are you doing in terms of a job?"

"I work here too actually, I'm surprised I never seen you around here. You remember Venkman and Spengler though?" He says, taking a half used cigarette out of his pocket.

"Yeah, how can I not remember Venkman, the guy constantly harassed and flirted with me until I graduated, kinda annoying. But I don't recall ever speaking to or interacting with Spengler though."

"Well I've actually been working with them two for a couple of years now, we're working on some equipment and studies to see if ghosts and entities are actually real, parapsychology you know. It would kinda make sense for you to not remember Spengler though, he was a quiet isolated sorta guy. Mind lending me your light?" Ray rambles on, gesturing for your lighter.

You hand him the lighter, taking another drag from your cigarette yourself as he lights his.

"That's neat, I honestly can't believe that I hadn't known you were here though, I would've loved to talk to you and hang out more after graduation," You say, grabbing your lighter back from Ray.

"We should go out for drinks sometime! It'd be a great way to catch up with eachother, I could bring the other guys too! Maybe all of us could ask you questions about our equipment. Given that I don't really know how to do it and all but you're the one that got a Doctoral in Computer Engineering and'll know a bit more than me, but mostly just to hang out with eachother again, like old times!" Ray says excitedly, a smile on his face.

"I'd love to go for drinks with you guys, not sure I'll be of any much use now though because I've just gotten fired by Yeager and have to move all my stuff out by a month from now, so studying and doing experiments are not something I'll get to work on for a while now," You chuckle, putting your cigarette out on the palm of your hand.

"Oh thats such a shame, Y/n I'm sorry that happened. It seems like Yeager has got a grudge on you too, huh?" Ray says sympathetically, putting a comforting hand on your shoulder.

"Yeah but honestly, I totally deserved it. Do you remember those series of blackouts throughout the campus that would happen twice a week? Those were all me and it took him 5 years to get sick of it and finally fire my ass,"

You laugh, now feeling a bit better about the loss, mostly because you get to speak with Ray again.

"I heard from some of the other professors that the cause was coming from the engineering and computer science halls, it reminded me of you in a way, and it seems I was right about it!" Ray laughs, letting out a dry cough afterwards.

God, Ray has always had such bad smoking problems. I can't say all that much though because that'd be too hypocritical but that cough is starting to get worse.

You two continue talking a while longer, forgetting how long you've been out there until hearing all the ruckus from the students getting released from their classes.

"I should get going now, Peter and Egon are probably wondering where I went by now. Oh! How can I get in touch with you by the way?" Ray says, turning back around toward you.

"I'm usually over here in my lab but it seems it won't be like that much longer, but here's the number for my home telephone, call me if you need or want to plan anything and if I don't answer leave me a message for my answer box," You say, pulling out a notepad and pen from your pocket, scribbling the number down, ripping out the page and handing it to Ray.

"Thanks Y/n, I'll remember to call you later on! Sorry about the whole getting fired thing, by the way, but I hope we see more of eachother. I'll talk to you later!" Ray says, taking the paper and waving goodbye as he runs off to a different area of the university.

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

Once you were back into the lab, you looked around to see what you should start packing. You didn't have much space at your apartment so you would either probably have to rent out a storage unit or call your parents to see if they could store some of it in their attic at home.

First I need to get boxes, and then a bunch of bubble wrap and foam so none of my equipment or computers break. I'll have to go and buy some from the post office.

You go and grab your keys and head back outside of your lab, locking the door before you leave. Walking to your car, you take your keys and unlock the door of it.

As you sit down and turn the key it stalls, taking a few more tries before it finally starts. I really gotta get a new car or at least get it checked out.

You start to drive to the nearest post office, and due to the horrible New York traffic it took you about 20 minutes to get to it even if it was only half a mile away. But that's what you got yourself into deciding to move to one of the most populated states in the US.

You park, grab your wallet, lock your car, and proceed into the post office.

You see the large amount of people in there, checking their post boxes, mailing out letters, and waiting to get their packages accepted to be sent out.

You walk to the area they have the boxes set up, grabbing a few medium sized ones and proceeding to the shortest line so you can purchase them. Once finally at the front, you place the flattened boxes onto the table.

"Hello, just these and also, do you guys have the big rolls of bubble wrap?" You say to the man at the desk, who already looked far too tired.

The man nodded and pulled out a large roll of bubble wrap, placing it on top of the boxes.

"Is that all, ma'am?"

You nod, taking your wallet out of your coat pocket so that way you have your money ready.

The man punches numbers into his machine, looking at each thing on the desk as he does so.

"That'll be $21.47, ma'am."

You take 22 dollars out of your wallet, handing them to the man as he takes it, placing the bills into the register and grabbing a few coins for your change and handing them and the receipt to you.

You thank the man and take the boxes and bubble wrap with you, struggling slightly at how awkward it was to hold the 10 flat boxes and bubble wrap in your arms.

You open the trunk of your car, putting the boxes and bubble wrap in, just barely fitting to where you can close the trunk door.

God, this is gonna suck.

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶︶꒷︶︶︶︶꒦꒷꒦︶︶꒷꒦︶︶꒦︶︶︶꒦꒷

I literally wrote all of this in about 7 maybe 9 hours total because I just thought up something and was like, "oh yeah, this'll be great," and that's at least what I'm hoping now. I want this to kinda be slow burn and I know that's what I always say when I do series, and I never finish them, but I am really hoping I'll be able to do more with this then my other failed attempts at series [if I take longer than a month to get another chapter of this out I want you all to yell at me and tell me to finish it]

Word count; 2,769

[spicy30]

Girl are you still alive 😭😔 haven't heard from you for almost one month😟 but I hope you are doing okay and if you are taking a break, feel free to take one pookie. You deserve one because you have been feeding us good🙏💕

Yeah, I'm alive, currently studying for a chem exam💔 (I hate chemistry) I was going on tik tok on my computer and without looking I clicked enter and it took me to Tumblr (#recoveringaddict) bc yk when you search something up so much it's just auto. I haven't been on Tumblr since March 5th. 😭 (I am catholic and I gave up anything having to do with FF including reading and writing for Lent) So a ton of notifications, and being as starved I looked through them.

I'm not supposed to be here rn, but! Here I am!

This isn't a break bc it's actually been hell without my support FFs. It's more a forced break that I inflicted on myself bc I didn't want to give up my tik tok streak (105 days and going strong 🤑) I've desperately wanted to write and read (Just found a new fandom I didn't even know existed for one of my shows, but I discovered it in the middle of lent so my enemies are working hard against me) but my indomitable will to not fail this commitment to myself and to my faith is stronger.

I also gave up fast food and for the first two weeks I was good, then my mom came and told me to give in. Devil couldn't reach me so he sent my mother to tell me that I'd start balding if I didn't start eating meat. (I live alone bc I attend school elsewhere and thus was only surviving on fruits and veggies and no meat bc I'm broke and I'm too lazy to cook.) Despite my will, I will not let my luscious locks fall from my head. (I need it to survive these next years of my engineering degree 💔 and I'm only in my first year so it's only down hill from here) —Have you seen those first year to fifth year engineering tik toks?😟 Pure horror(Waterloo Uni)— In any case I ate chicken teriyaki and steamed vegetables from Panda Express (Which was horrible bc I prefer them raw) —Pause— anyways. Yeah, all last week during my spring break I broke my 'fast' three times bc I was celebrating my birthday. (Desperately hanging on to my childhood) and then I went to go get my fav fast food bc it's a little tradition to eat it when I leave and come back. (Bc I don't have a car here and I have walk everywhere and last time I did, bad things happened.🥀 So the only time I can eat it is when my parents come and pick me up and drop me off every couple of months)

Now I'm back and back on my grind to not eat any fast food but never have I broken my streak of reading ff (Except my own bc I get comments on Ao3 and I have to reread my works so I can laugh bc I find myself funny) But yeah I've written nothing since March 5th (Which is rlly more Feb 13th cuz I had to lock in for exams) and as soon the clock strikes 12am on  Apr 17, I'm hopping back on to write everything bc my mind was been cooking up ideas (Despite the fact that I'm not even supposed to entertain the thought) so I can't wait to start again.

Chapter 12 will be extra long. Maybe 25k? Or more. Probs longest chapter (Longest one rn is chap 11 sitting at a cool 20,284 words exactly)

Also due to extending time and the newest plot point (Said plot point will probably make many upset as it is a VERY unpopular trope but I have decided it is a necessary evil to get to the end.) which I have decided add in the this excruciatingly long 'break', instead of 15 chapter total it'll be a cool 20-25 bc I need to have a better build up for the finale.

SO FAREWELL UNTIL MID TO LATE APRIL! GOTTA GET BACK ON THIS GRIND!

MY ENEMIES WILL NOT SUCCEED!

(Pls don't take me for some crazy religious freak who has religious psychosis. This is all jokes. I do not actually believe the devil is in everything and is out to get me. All jokes. Have a wonderful next couple of weeks.)

That being said, wish me well bc this exam for chem I have tomorrow, I'm not so sure I'm gonna to too well on it. (I hate naming chemicals. FUCK THEM POLYATOMIC IONS AND FUCK WHO EVER CREATED THEM)

[duskblogsthings]

MARIO TECHNOLOGY HEADCANONS!!

Mario himself is not SUPER tech literate. He grew up in the years of "don't share your info online" and took that to heart, so he's not the type to get scammed, but he still greatly struggles with things like coding or what have you. The man couldn't make a basic tumblr blog if he tried.

Mario also is actually pretty good at video games, but his bro is WAY better and demolishes him in any multiplayer experience. This makes Mario frustrated, which makes Luigi feel bad, so they try to focus on playing Co-Op games.

Luigi also isn't the best when it comes to technology. He's better with machinery and engineering rather than computers. This is reflected in how he uses his phone in the movie, where he doesn't really take care of it very well lol Luigi is just really accident prone and that doesn't bode well for his electronics.

Wario is the epitome of Brilliant but Lazy. Yes, he programs his own games but he'd much rather get his friends to make the majority of them for him. Ironically enough, despite his ill treatment of his game systems thanks to his temper, Wario is probably the most tech literate of the series' main cast.

Wario of course also infamously created the Telmet, a helmet that transports a person into their television. When it comes to tech and engineering, Wario is particularly gifted. He learned this stuff from Dr. Crygor, as well as Dribble & Spitz. If he couldn't pawn the work off onto one of his friends, he wanted to be able to do it himself to save money.

Waluigi is a disaster with both technology AND engineering. He knows all about it, but is so disaster prone that he'll always mess something up. The exception to this is the previously mentioned internet scams. Waluigi doesn't get scammed, he's doing the scamming.

Also Waluigi is a wiz at gaming just like Luigi. He's skilled enough that if he wasn't so wrapped up in trying to sneak cheat code devices into game competitions he might actually win one instead of being disqualified.

[viridianriver]

∘◦✩◦∘ My Long Posts ∘◦✩◦∘

Nature, The Outdoors, Travel

Lazy Girl's Guide to Houseplants

How to survive in the wilderness for dirt cheap (+added info in reblogs)

How to stay safe traveling solo (Minus the classism that usually creeps into these articles)

Engineering & Machines

Sewing Machines & Planned Obsolescence

Queer Girl's Tips For Surviving Engineering

Engineering Job Interview Tips

2023 USA Railway Projects!!

Using your art to train an AI is theft! Here's how to fight back!

Sustainability & Anti Consumption

Sustainable Shopping - Alternatives to Corporate Stores

Shopping at corporations only when they're taking a loss

No Corporations November

Intro & Week 1

Week 2

Week 3

Week 4

Summary

SIKE YOU THOUGHT I STOPPED? NOPE IT'S NO CORPORATIONS 2024!!!

Tech & Computer Science

ChatGPT & Bias in "AI"

The Airbnb-Owned Tech Startup - Data Mining Tumblr Users' Mental Health Crises for "Content"

Cybersecurity & "Smart" Devices

Cop Robo Dogs

"AI" & The Meaning Of Intelligence

Dude... The Matrix is real?

Titan Submarine Disaster

Systems Engineering

Human Factors Engineering

Corporate Negligence & Regulation Dodging

Detailed Disaster Timeline

A Better Designed Submarine

Miscellaneous Opinions

Extinction Bursts & Misogyny?

Want to write a realistic sci-fi story about "AI"?

Get Crabs! Spread Crabs! (Fundraising vs Advertising-Based Social Media)

Machine Learning / "AI" Failure Modes

Politics & Economics

USA politics rant - We're not well represented by a 2 party system

Charitable Trust Donations are Not That Charitable? (+added info in reblogs)

Natural Gas & The 2023 Attacks on Gaza

The economy doing well isn't helping us

Debunking Finance Myths

STONKS

What is the Middle Class really? (I think it's propoganda)

Health, Wellness, and The Body

Science based skincare that doesn't focus on products / brands!

Antivaccers and an abusive Medical Industry

How to engage in activism without burning yourself out

Feet, and the damage modern shoes cause

Recipes For Dumbasses

Very Extra Pancakes

Soup is Easy?

Asks

Resources to learn about economics?

How to clean/sanitize thrifted stuff!

how to get shit done when you've got executive dysfunction

AI Bubble?

[goldenpinof]

I think you're confusing (or more like generalising i guess) ai with generative ai. Which is something a lot of people are doing. As a computer science graduate, I agree that generative AI is bullshit. It's used to scam people, a lot of people use chat gpt and literally stop thinking on their own, and you're right that using it to create art, of all the things, is lazy af. And it uses a lot of water and energy, yes. And I'm very much against it, too. when i hear someone at work talk about using chat gpt, i roll my eyes, because yikes. But it's important to note that the generative AI is only a branch of all AI. You can have ai without stealing other people's work and data, you can have your own datasets to train your model to do whatever you need. Ai can be good in medicine (eg detecting cancer cells) or extracting text from images (like scanned documents) or categorising data from big datasets. And it's only 3 examples out of many many more. The generative ai tools became a thing within the last 2-3 years. Ai was being developed and used for years before that with a lot of hopes about it. My point is, not all ai is bad but the big companies made the general population think that ai = chat gpt. And chat gpt, while technically having a potential for being a great tool, is based on stolen data, uses too many resources and basically makes people more stupid. So yeah, when you get angry about the use of ai, get angry, but not at ai as a whole but at generative ai and those who push it (aka the big companies who get more rich from brainwashing people)

good point. i went for generative AI without even specifying beyond my examples because that's the AI we're talking about, that's the AI Adobe and Opera are pushing via sponsorships as well.

i was thinking about medicine but i don't have anything to back it up, so i didn't mention it. also, there are cons in AI used in medicine too. there are cons in using AI in general. so, is it "all good"? no. frankly, not "all bad" either. so, fair point. i'm sure some engineering is also using AI, but i don't have examples of its performance.

[taigan-hse]

The new season of Doctor Who is giving me some problems.

To be clear, I’m having fun. But in each episode there’s always something that makes me go “but..wait… how does that work?”

Space Babies

It’s been the longest since I watched this so I’m not positive but did they explain why the babies had developed intelligence while keeping infant bodies? Did they build the strollers and control manipulators or did Nan-E provide those? And the Boogeyman being created because “computers are literal” is what my old math teachers would call a “hand wavy” explanation, one that only work if you don’t look at it too closely.

Devil’s Chord

The fact that the Doctor could just intuit most of the chord to send the Maestro back? I’m not a music person but I don’t get how that works. Also, we’re just kinda assuming the Maestro’s defeat mean that they never existed? Otherwise we’re living in a world with no major music between 1925 and 1963. No Buddy Holly. No Elvis. No Bing Crosby. No Sinatra. No Glen Miller. No Perry Cuomo.

Boom

At first, I had no problem with the mine having all those complicated rules for what would make it go off. But later we learn that, if it can’t make up its mind it defaults to detonate? Then why all the checks? Why not just blow on any contact? It’s not even a matter of economics because we know the mine is reusable. (The one the Doctor stepped on was the same one that blew up the guy in the opening.)

73 yards

This was the first one that actually made me mad. When Ruby’s mother turned against her, I was thinking “ok, so this is an illusion or a manifestation of Ruby’s fears.” But it wasn’t that. Ruby’s mother actually abandoned her and told her she wasn’t wanted by her or by her birth parents. Yes, at the end it’s time paradoxed out of existence but it was her actual mother saying that. Since they never explain the mechanism by which the Follower did that to people, I can’t accept what could do that. And even if it could, what about her grandmother? She never got the whammy put on her. Did she not argue with her daughter about it?

Also, why did Roger ap Gwilliam give up his political career? The Follower causes people to want to avoid Ruby, right? Couldn’t he just… fire her and never see her again?

Dot and Bubble

Why did the AI turn on everyone? I get we all were kinda in agreement they deserved it at the end, but it felt like very lazy writing. “Well, of course, an AI is going to want to kill all humans.” Not to mention, why kill people with genetically engineered giant slugs when everyone already had a Dot and we see that the Dots are quite capable of killing people on their own?

In summary, I get the feeling that each episode had a theme or setting that Davies/Moffat wanted to explore and wrote whatever was needed to do that, whether or not it made any sense. I think the acting has been top tier, it’s just the writing letting the show down.

[almostyours]

Dulcie i have questions!!!!!!!! i want to know more about the angeline website because is it important to their lore ? can i ask for the context of some of the banners in another ask ?

hi oomfie!  ANGELINE.COM,  also known as THE ANGEL LINE,  is not part of their lore.  it's really just that,  a fan-favorite,  trusted and popular website for all things hiraeth,  made by fans and for fans,  but monitored by the official ANGEL TEAM.  because angels loved and frequented the website so much,  it ended up becoming the go-to official site for everything hiraeth-related,  aside from their actual official site.  in there,  you can find the members' biographies,  everything about each era,  official and high-quality photoshoots,  their group and solo endorsements,  polls,  plus a super active forum for all things aes,  including lore discussions and conversations among angels worldwide.  there's also merchandise info with discounts for registered and official angels and,  of course,  the silly little aegenda i made for their ficfest nominations where angels can keep up with upcoming projects or events.

i actually thought of ANGEL LINE moooooooonths ago when i mentioned i wanted to do a forum / reddit-style posts about their lore because i thought it’d be fun to include angel’s commentaries and everything.  this is something i still want to do,  but i’m not only a busy and lazy bee,  but also a perfectionist!  i thought of making a cute mock-up graphic for the site first,  but i was never happy with any of the designs.  i wanted to use my knowledge as a computer systems engineer to make a little website,  but that was way too extra and way too much work.  so,  i think ANGEL LINE stuff will just stay kind of vague for now until i think of something.

in a way, ANGEL LINE is kinda important to their lore,  yes,  but mostly because it's where everything about them is gathered,  including rumors—though those are analyzed carefully to avoid disrespect to the members and other idols because of course some angels love to throw in x idol into the conversation. just get on twitter if u wanna hear out the latest gossip within the angel community!

and,  yeah,  of course!  i would love to answer any questions since every single ae.linkie has its own context,  so send them my way!

[blueberrythefrog]

does Sam x Kinito exist in USB!Kinito?, and do you have a design for Sam and Jade yet?

Ah!, yes!, Sam x Kinito exists!, there is also polyamory between Sam and Kinito and Jade! Idk.. I could never pick between Sam x Jade and Kinito x Sam, and since I am polyamorous myself (hehe self inserting stuff into my own projects tm, I have 2 girlfriends, because, omnisexual, hi, also I am a woman myself, technically) I decided, why not make all of them in love? Also, to answer about Sam and Jade's designs, I am not sure what I want to do for their designs.. I am getting inspired by my mutuals designs, though!.. their silly characters are just so interesting! But.. it's hard to decide what designs I want for them!.. So for now.. They will only be mentioned and not shown, until I can brain storm what designs they'll have.. Do I know Jade will be goth looking, and Sam is just a lazy southern guy! Probably not sportsy but, certainly a comfy guy that wants to laze around. and Jade's just a goth engineer, that actively helps Kinito build you silly games on that separate computer in that USB. Does she care that there's not that much space in the USB?, no. She wants to make you purple place 2.0. let her do that for u :)

[maybesimon]

still so confused by black mirror. the best part of a scifi story is the bit where the speculative bit crashes into the real world bit and how the characters deal with that. just abstracting away from it (eg: 'the thronglets are conscious little guys in the computer, don't worry about it', 'dna clones can be uploaded in a video game than then renders blood if they get hurt(????), don't worry about it', 'something something powerful parallel universe, don't worry about it')... its so boring!!!??!?

i liked eulogy because there they did worry about the tech (eg the gut couldn't pick up the letter), en hotel reverie because it was almost charming, but the rest was just 'and then that happened. and then this happened. and then that happened' forever without any like. idk it would be interesting to grapple with 'how do i know if the little computer guys are conscious and what does language mean to them', or to make the clones look weird (because the graphics engine cannot render blood in game). its just so lazy it makes me sad

[karriethemechtech]

For your Glimpses of the Past game, might I request INJURED, please?

(OOC: Of course you can!)

(It's over 2000 words now, oh wow. I did not know I even had writing like this still in me. Genuinely thank you so much to all of you for managing to instill this level of passion in me again. I put it under the read more since it's quite long and I don't want to destroy your dash. I'll finish the other prompt or two I have, I hope I edited this one enough; I need a nap.)

            “Alright, Alpha lance, move to the right! Beta lance, with me!” barked the Captain. “Let’s sweep this place and go home. I’m getting awful tired of taking orders from that Feddie bigwig.”

The orders had been simple: Capellan landing crafts had been detected on long-range scanners touching down twenty klicks from the garrison. Not that it mattered, thought Karrie. The sensors were ancient, radar-only, and prone to failure. She had offered to take a look at them for their employer, of course; the Captain almost had to pull the Federated Suns diplomat off her after she even suggested the equipment they had been provided with was poor. And it would have been such a simple fix, really nothing more than a calibration. It would have taken Karrie no time at all, even if she’d looped in the spare seismic sensors she’d pulled from the last share of salvage…

“DeLacey! Distracted, are we?” the Captain shouted over comms. “Alpha lance is moving out! Get your lazy ass out there!”

Karrie grumbled a rough agreement and turned her ‘Mech around; the beaten Trebuchet gave a tipsy sway of protest as she trotted after the rest of her lance.

“Captain! Are we sure there’s anyone here at all?” she asked.

“Just get back to work.”

And so the patrol proceeded, one mind-numbing minute blending into the next as the darkly-painted ‘Mechs marched across the rolling plain. Even the land was bored; the grasses were punctuated by very few trees, and the tree line marked the horizon through the shimmer of the summer heat. Conversations started and ended quickly, the relentless monotony eventually robbing the MechWarriors of anything new to talk about. Some groaned their complaints over the comms; they were usually met with the Captain’s swift and brutal reprimand. But even he’s starting to get tired of this, Karrie realized.

The Captain’s voice balanced on the razor’s-edge of sleep as he broke the yawning quiet. “Alright, Dark Wolves! That’s enough. Just another false alarm.” He punched the console. “Time to head home!”

He sighed. “What a waste of time.”

No sooner than the Captain finished speaking, all hell broke loose.

Alpha lance’s Thunderbolt lurched suddenly. The MechWarrior screamed into the mic, “Mines! Fuck, it’s an—”

Her ‘Mech staggered, an awkward hop on one foot. One step forward was all it took to trigger the second mine, and suddenly the Thunderbolt was on the ground, the mercenary’s screams filling the airwaves as her machine erupted in a fiery blast.

In the tall grasses and trees, previously undetected engines roared to life, the angry howl of diesel engines kept warm waiting for this very moment. An ambush! Tanks and vehicles raced out of hiding like bolts of lightning. The Trebuchet’s TRO computer squealed with the strain of identifying them all, flashing their information across Karrie vision almost too fast to read.

“Hold formation, Wolves!” said the Captain. “We don’t know where those mines are. Alpha Lance! Deal with them.” His King Crab opened its massive claws, revealing the massive smoothbore cannons within.

Karrie panicked. Vehicles! It was so obvious. She almost couldn’t believe how easily she’d fallen for it. She flipped a switch on her control panel and missiles poured from her Trebuchet’s torso—anti-mine rounds, exploding near the ground as she fired on the burning hulk of her former coworker. The mines retorted in fiery bursts, filling the air with smoke. Perfect. In a flash, she ran for the tree line, her ‘Mech’s arms an exaggerated “follow me” wave as she looked back on the other members of Alpha lance. The lance’s Griffin leaped after her; the Centurion did not.

“What the hell are you doing, Karrie?” came the ‘Mech’s pilot over comms. “Captain said to stand ground!” He braced as a shower of missiles pelted the Centurion’s armored left side. “And that’s what I’m doing!” With a yell, the mercenary opened fire with the Centurion’s autocannon, and the air filled with the scream of high-volume lead.

“You dumbass! You’re going to get yourself killed!” The Trebuchet rocked from the impact of a tank shell—thankfully only class five, based on the armor report, she thought.

Karrie flipped her comms to a private channel. “You!” she said to the pilot of the Griffin. “Do you want to die? No? Then follow me!” The MechWarrior offered no response but continued to follow. Karrie ran along the tree line, stopping only to kick or shoot the half-dozen armored trucks that had her in their sights.

SRMs flashed into burning light against her left leg, and to her dread the Trebuchet’s engine let out a low, pained whine. “Infernos! Captain, they’ve got Inferno rounds!”

“What are you doing out of formation, MechWarrior? Get back in line!”

“Sir, now’s not the time!” Karrie retorted, simultaneously retorting to incoming fire with the ‘Mech’s missile banks. The missiles arced through the air gracefully, and it was all she could do not to feel mesmerized watching them as she loosed another salvo for good measure.

“Bullshit. You two get back here!” The violent boom of the Captain’s AC/20s shook the windows of the Trebuchet’s cockpit.

A second round of Inferno missiles struck her ‘Mech’s right side, and warning lights began to flash. The targeting systems are giving out! She needed time to cool.

“Cover me!”

Her lancemate’s response came in the form of hot blue laser fire as she ducked into the woods. She counted the seconds, heart racing with fear. Her breath caught hot in her throat. One, two, three. The heat gauges finally started to dip below the red. Four, five, six…

“Karrie! Get back in the fight!” The Captain’s voice was somehow louder in her neurohelmet than the retort of his guns. “I don’t pay cowards!”

“Sir, I’m doing what I can!” Her Trebuchet pounded out of the trees, emerald beams pulsing from its arms as she fired on the tank the Centurion was currently trading shots with. The tank’s turret began to rotate, bringing its cannon to bear on the barreling ‘Mech, but not before she slammed her foot into it, punting it like a football with as much force as the myomers could give. It flipped once, twice in the air before landing with a crunch on its turret.

“You ass, I had that!” shouted the Centurion’s pilot.

“Please, you’re full of holes!” Karrie scoffed, already bringing her ‘Mech around to another target. “You should stay with the lance!”

“And you should stay in formation, MechWarrior!” shouted the Captain. “Now get back here!”

His lumbering ‘Mech broke into a run, followed by the rest of Beta lance. The ground shook with the impact of the Assault ‘Mechs’ weight. “You see that? Their lines are opening! We’ve got a chance to get behind ‘em!” The Captain’s autocannons boomed, followed by curtains of missiles from the ‘Mech’s flat carapace. “Dark Wolves, with me!”

“You heard the man,” said the Centurion’s pilot. “Move, DeLacey.” He broke into a run, pulling the smoking ‘Mech alongside its heavier allies. With a disgruntled sigh, Karrie obliged; as she did so, her heart sank.

“Sir, this is wrong. They’re ambushing us; why would they leave a hole like that?”

“’Cause we’re kicking their asses! Now move!”

“Sir, we should pull back.”

“Is that cowardice I hear, MechWarrior?”

Karrie drew in a shuddering breath. “No, sir!”

“Attagirl.” The captain grabbed a fleeing truck in the King Crab’s claws and crushed it as he ran, tossing it aside like an empty can of beer.

Without warning, the company’s HawkWolf flashed with brilliant light. It stumbled, briefly connected to its assailant by three bolts of lightning, and crumpled to the ground.

“Sir, there’s another force!” said the Griffin’s pilot. “They have PPC carriers!”

The King Crab skidded to a halt. “Shit, it’s another trap! Dark Wolves, stay close!”

PPC fire arced through the air again. Two shots went wide over the King Crab’s wide shoulders while a third struck the flat top of the ‘Mech dead on. It rocked on its feet for a moment before once again breaking into a run towards the hidden tank, autocannons rolling like thunder. A second bank of PPC beams struck the side of the captain’s machine—this time two hit dead on, putting smoking holes in the ‘Mech’s right claw. Karrie loosed a salvo of missiles at the second tank, joined by the now-upright HawkWolf, desperate to provide the company some cover. The missiles scattered into a bough of trees, from which another volley of crackling beams issued as if in reply. Karrie broke her Trebuchet into a mad run, dumping more missiles into the trees in hopes she might knock out one of the second tank’s emitters.

A click. The missiles had run out. Had she miscounted? “Sir, I’ve run dry!” Karrie yelped.

“Move, Delacey!” came the Captain’s reply.

“What?”

“I said move—"

And the world was a blur of color and noise. Karrie screamed. Ice cold pain shot through her body, and her hair stood on end. The moment seemed to stretch on forever, a cacophony of agony punctuated only by the slicing of shrapnel into her flesh. Karrie leaned forward in her seat, reeling, vision blurry. She was going to die here. As the pain overwhelmed her senses, that she knew. She was going to die here. It started as a low rumble in the back of her mind, She was going to die here, then echoed backwards off her forehead, she screamed in protest, She was going to die here, the echoes were joined by others as her mind filled with a whirling cacophony of panic and pain, She was going to die here. She could feel it. As the pain scrabbled across her nerve endings, reached all the way to the tips of her fingers, arcing from them like a Tesla coil onto the delicate electronics in front of her, it was as certain as a wedding vow.

She was going to die here.

Slowly, wretchedly, the world came back into focus, the ringing in her ears blocking out most of the raging battle outside the ‘Mech. There was a burning, smoking hole right in the center of the Trebuchet’s face—her window was gone. She was lucky she wasn’t too. Hot wind whipped through the newly formed void as she limped her Trebuchet towards the Captain’s damaged King Crab.

The Captain shouted something at Karrie; she couldn’t hear a word he said. Her skin was still flushed with pain; blood dripped down her exposed arms and onto the floor. She raised her ‘Mech’s arms, VSP lasers firing wildly as she tried half-consciously to find purchase against something. Anything. The Captain shouted something again. It almost sounded like retreat, but over the din of the battlefield she couldn’t tell.

But She was going to die here. No longer an echo, the thought erected itself a deathly promise in her clouded mind.

“…Go!” Karrie screamed like a wounded animal. She spat blood from her bleeding tongue and continued to fire. The engine shrieked in protest as one, two impacts struck the torso. The rest of the company limped away behind her, into safety, away from the clutches of the Capellan trap. Below her, the failing containment fields of the mech beat like a giant heart in time with her own. Once more she bellowed a desperate cry of war, and once more she fired her meager payload into the oncoming wall of tanks. As they approached, the pulses got closer together, the ‘Mech itself flinching even as Karrie failed to.

Huh, some detached part of her thought. The pulses always have prime number frequencies. Another cannon round planted itself in the Trebuchet’s exposed chest and Karrie’s head snapped back in her seat.

The impact left her brain no room to think. There was no room left to shout.

Only shoot. Another shot. Another shot. Another shot. Another shot. And another.

Karrie didn’t even notice as her ‘Mech tumbled to the ground beneath her.

One. More. Shot.

Then relief.