#Study Wave Characteristics Assignment Help

[toku-explained]

Friendship or Study?

Blazar: Recent aerial phenomena have caused small damage, but now a plane has been doing, GGF dubbing the suspected kaiju Deltandal, Earth Garon is still being repaired, Emi has gone to HQ for intel, as GGF has been on guard since Gebalga. Emi has secretly hacked GGF servers, where they have categorised Deltandal as Third Wave, with Bazanga as First Wave and Gebalga as Second Wave, the basis being something to do with V99 as outlined by Dobashi Yu. Before she can search further, her intrusion is detected and she has to flee. Earth Garon pursues Deltandal, but it's flight is just for transport, not combat, and Deltandal evades attacks before escaping. Haruno dresses SKaRD, threatening them with disbandment. Emi questions Haruno about Space Systems Research Center Test Facility 66, run by Dobashi Yu, former GGF JP director, asking why the retired director was out in charge of a top secret facility. He warns her off, particularly from Dobashi, but she intends to what she must. Anri works out that Deltandal uses cumulonimbus clouds as cover to enter and leave the atmosphere. Emi continues looking through files, finding a report on an accident at Facility 66 three years prior, one in which Gento lead the evacuation, and that her father was among the missing, before her snooping is discovered. A shed skin from Deltandal is found at the site of a landslide, Earth Garon's analysis confirms it's terran. It's detected heading for Kooki, so Mod. 2 will intercept, Yasunobu controlling the guns from Mopy. Emi is brought to Dobashi, aware of her investigation. She asks if V99 is the force responsible for sending the Kaiju, he says she's in the right area and says to keep investigating, that he doesn't know that much, but acknowledges her father and tells her to pass his regards to Hirumo. Haruno calls Hirumo just to tell him to keep Emi in line. Earth Garon engages Deltandal, Hirumo exits Mopy on pretense of fixing the aerial, Blazar is clearly eager to join. Alongside Anti's wild shooting, Blazar uses a halo technique, then the Tilsonite Sword, using a beam from it to defeat the Kaiju. Emi explains about meeting Dobashi, on being asked Gento explains he was assigned to Dobashi's protection, during the accident after ensuring he was safe he went back to try and make sure everyone else was safe, and grants her permission to keep researching the incident. Emi goes to Facility 66 and is immediately caught by Haruno, warning her again to step back as she is furious her father's best friend told her nothing about his disappearance, and swears she'll ring the truth.

Gotchard: The students are seeking out MechaniChani, having located it's general area, with SmaPhone helping to track it, Ichinose manages to fish the Chemy, then for capturing, knowing MechaniChani is weak to light, decides to use SmaPhone with another new Chemy, PikaHotaru (other new additions are SpiCle and GanVhale), SmaHotaru subduing it so the capture can be done, the gang celebrate, not noticing a boy spot them. As everyone debates who technically caught the Chemy later, the boy, Sunayama Riku approaches with SaboNeedle, asking them to take care of it as his father told him to throw it out, but Ichinose can see Riku wants to say with SaboNeedle, but Renge opts to capture it now. After a discussion on Clotho's frustrations with her Malgam's failing, and Atropos planning to meet a friend, Lachesis, acting as a nun, goads and man into merging with GreaTonbo. Kudoh and Renge wind up helping Mrs. Ichinose with an errand, as Ichinose finds Riku, who refuses to admit he wants to stay with SaboNeedle, but starts allowing himself to have fun until the Malgam attacks, Gotchard trying to fight. Sabimaru tells Minato about Ichinose taking SaboNeedle back to Riku, Spanner appears to badmouth Ichinose and tell Minato he should have taken the Gotchardriver off him. When Ichinose calls Sabimaru about the Malgam, Spanner has to take over asking about characteristics. Renge drags Kudoh to a cafe, while Renge orders, Kudoh is approached by Atropos asking to play. After learning he's being attacked by GreaTonbo, Ichinose uses NeedleHawk to fight back, into for SaboNeedle to suddenly exit the GotcharDriver in mid-air, sending Ichinose falling out of the air.

Kingohger: Deboss isn't properly revived, so falls back to let the Bravery settle. Souji survived, injured, Himeno tending to him, as Gira and Rita start improving the mood, Yanma helps clear things, and Kaguragi decides to prepare a feast, assited by Yuko and Rika, who also provide less conspicuous clothing. Rita falls in love with Luckyuro's manga collection, including Love Touch, while Himeno helps Candelira make music for the kids. As Gira and Yanma argue over defeating Deboss or returning to Tikyu, Jeramie arrives to share his knowledge that the humans of their world came from this world after a conflict 2000 years ago, travelling on God Caucasus Kabuto, he knows the mural is legit because it's his father's own handiwork, the mural inside Caucasus Kabuto Castle being a continuation, as well as influencing Jeramie's own work. Prince is called by Amy about the Zyudenryu, then caught by Zorima, Prince rushes to save her, Gira following, and they save her and free the Zuudenryu, Prince barely not letting slip her relation to him. KyoryuRed mentally contacts Prince, acknowledging his Bravery and leaving Gabutyra in his hands, Gira getting the idea to try and reach Kuwagon the same way. On Tikyu, Kuwagon approaches Suzume, whose wedding band shines a light towards the OhgerLance. Taking this as a message from her late husband, Suzume uses it to trigger a change from Caucasus Kabuto Castle to God Caucasus Kabuto, which flies into space, other Shugods boarding it. Deboss sends out its armies to attack the resistance, and Kings and Braves fight them off, Yuko reveals Nossan and Candelira are getting married, and Luckyuro falls for Rita. Deboss attacks Gira, Amy and Prince. Learning that Earth's melody enabled them to defeat Deboss in the past, but they can't hear it, Himeno opts to kick-start the memory by playing off the score in the caves. With the Bravery reignited, and the Shugods arriving, 5 Kyoryugers and 6 Kings change. King KuwagataOhger fights alongside King KyoryuRed, KyoryuPink with PapillonOhger and KamakiriOhger, KyoryuGreen with Spider Kumonos, TonboOhger with KyoryuBlack, and HachiOhger with KyoryuBlue. Deboss is defeated but grows, but King-Ohger and Kyoryujin are there to fight. Deboss defeated, the Kings must return to Tikyu, and Prince explains his real name is Kiryu Daigoro, which is news to at least Ian and Nossan, but it's clear Amy already knew. I suppose a mother's going to know her own son.

[mariammahfouz]

📊 Understanding Adolescent Health: A Data Management Reflection

1. Sample Description

The data I used for this analysis comes from the Add Health (The National Longitudinal Study of Adolescent to Adult Health) study, which surveyed a nationally representative sample of adolescents in grades 7–12 in the United States during the 1994–95 school year. The study population includes over 20,000 individual participants, capturing diverse backgrounds across schools, regions, and demographics.

The unit of analysis in this study is the individual adolescent, as each data record represents a unique person with their own characteristics.

For this assignment, I worked with a simplified subset of data from Wave I, focusing on variables relevant to my research question. My analytic sample includes approximately 2,500 adolescents who had complete and valid data on gender, age, and education level. This cleaned sample allowed for meaningful analysis while maintaining data quality and consistency.

📋 2. Data Collection Procedures

Data for the Add Health study was collected using a multistage, stratified, school-based, cluster sampling design. Schools were selected to reflect the diversity of U.S. schools in terms of size, type (public/private), region, and urban/rural classification. Data collection occurred through:

In-school questionnaires filled out by students

In-home interviews conducted by trained interviewers

Parent questionnaires for additional background

The study gathered a wide range of data including social, behavioral, demographic, and health-related variables. All protocols followed ethical guidelines, and participants provided informed consent.

🧮 3. Measures and Data Management

My analysis focused on three main variables:

Gender: Originally coded numerically (1 = Male, 2 = Female), which I recoded to string labels (“Male” and “Female”) for clarity.

Age: Reported in years. I examined its distribution and created categories (e.g., 12–14, 15–17, 18+) to allow comparisons across adolescent stages.

Education Level: This variable included multiple detailed categories. I recoded them into broader levels such as "Middle School", "High School", and "Some College or More" to simplify the analysis.

Using Python and pandas, I performed the following data management steps:

Checked for and removed missing or invalid values

Recoded variables for interpretability

Generated frequency tables to examine distributions

Created a clean dataset for analysis

These steps allowed me to answer the following research question: "How do age and gender relate to educational attainment among adolescents?"

The organized dataset made it easier to identify trends and potential patterns related to demographic factors and education.

✅ Summary

This blog post outlines how I:

Identified and described my analytic sample

Summarized the Add Health study’s data collection methods

Cleaned and managed key variables to prepare for statistical analysis

Clear documentation of the data management process is critical for reproducibility and for helping others understand how raw survey data translates into meaningful insights.

[drchintamanigodbole]

What Imaging or Diagnostic Tests are Used to Determine Eligibility for HIPEC?

Determining eligibility for Hyperthermic Intraperitoneal Chemotherapy (HIPEC) involves a comprehensive evaluation, including imaging and diagnostic tests. The specific tests used may vary based on the type and stage of cancer, as well as individual patient factors. Here are some common imaging and diagnostic tests that may be employed to determine eligibility for HIPEC:

Computed Tomography (CT) Scan: A CT scan is a commonly used imaging test that provides detailed cross-sectional images of the abdomen. It helps evaluate the extent of cancer spread, the size and location of tumors, and the involvement of surrounding structures.

Magnetic Resonance Imaging (MRI): MRI uses magnetic fields and radio waves to create detailed images of soft tissues in the abdomen. It can provide additional information about the location and characteristics of tumors.

Positron Emission Tomography (PET) Scan: PET scans involve the injection of a small amount of radioactive material to highlight areas of increased metabolic activity. PET scans can help identify regions of cancer cells that may not be visible on other imaging studies.

Diagnostic Laparoscopy: Diagnostic laparoscopy is a minimally invasive surgical procedure that allows direct visualization of the abdominal cavity. It is often used to assess the extent of cancer spread and identify any small tumors or nodules.

Biopsy: A biopsy involves the removal of a small sample of tissue for examination under a microscope. This may be done during surgery or through a less invasive procedure, such as a needle biopsy, to confirm the type of cancer and assess its aggressiveness.

Peritoneal Cancer Index (PCI): PCI is a scoring system used during surgery to evaluate the extent of peritoneal disease. It assigns scores to different areas of the abdomen based on the size and distribution of tumors.

Blood Tests: Blood tests, including tumor markers and general blood chemistry, may be conducted to assess overall health and the presence of specific markers associated with certain types of cancer.

Endoscopy: Endoscopic procedures, such as upper endoscopy or colonoscopy, may be performed to evaluate the gastrointestinal tract and detect any tumors or abnormalities.

Cytology: Cytology involves examining cells collected from the peritoneal fluid for the presence of cancer cells. This may be done during surgery or through a separate procedure.

Genetic Testing: Genetic testing may be considered to identify specific genetic mutations associated with certain types of cancer. This information can guide treatment decisions and prognosis.

The choice of diagnostic tests depends on the specific circumstances of each patient. The results of these tests help the medical team determine whether HIPEC is a suitable treatment option, considering factors such as the extent of disease, the location of tumors, and the overall health of the patient. The multidisciplinary healthcare team, including surgeons, oncologists, and radiologists, collaborates to make the most informed decisions regarding eligibility for HIPEC.

Rediscover digestive wellness with the expertise of Dr. Chintamani, your premier Gastrointestinal Surgeon in Mumbai. Renowned for precision in surgical interventions and a patient-centric approach, Dr. Chintamani offers advanced solutions for a spectrum of gastrointestinal concerns.

[shysneeze]

phases of falling in love (ginny weasley x fem!reader)

Description: the painful process of reader falling for her Ginny Weasley, her best friend.

Warnings: angst af, I can’t think of anything else specific but please let me know if you come across anything and I’ll add it

Authors note: in love by khai dreams and she by dodie fit this in my head and are worth a listen.( edit, : i have a playlist here that fits this entire fic) . 

 ...

(Y/N) has decided that falling in love comes in three distinct phases: realisation, denial, and acceptance, though with various forms of panic in between.

No one’s ever boasted that falling in love is easy, the bitter angst of doing so the subject of too many pieces of literature to be doubted. Yet, no one’s ever told her it would be this hard, but she supposes the stakes were always going to be higher when it’s your best friend.

Realisation came first during a party, sat in a small group by the fireplace as the cheers and laughter so typical of a Gryffindor victory party raged on around them. They weren't much different from the others, talking loudly and laughing with their heads thrown back dramatically. They were discussing the game, (Y/N) thinks, though she can hardly remember now, nor was she particularly invested at the time. 

How could she be with her just across the from her, fair freckled skin aglow from the fire, who's light danced across her face with each flame’s flicker. Her hair tumbled down her shoulders effortlessly, as if it was pulled straight from the ponytail she wore during the afternoon's match.

That was the night she looked at Ginny  Weasley and felt something in her heart, longing perhaps, that went beyond mere friendship, the first night Ginny's smile made her chest tighten and her eyes finding hers with a wink made her gulp. 

It was the first time she looked at Ginny and saw her best friend but longed for more. 

Denial was easy after that, the whole thing flippantly dismissed as a fluke of the evening, blamed on the giddy feeling that accompanied the house’s victory that Ginny played such a vital part in securing. It was nothing more appreciation, awe.

Weeks later though, and the tugging in her chest still lingers, holding her hostage and controlling her every move.

It flares up unexpectedly, from a smile at lunch, a wave during matches or a laugh hidden behind textbooks during classes. There is an endless array of quirks and habits that (Y/N) has never once before paid attention to that now leave her stomach victim to butterflies and her heart to palpitations.

Yet the denial continues, excuses ranging from the outlandish to the self-deprecating. Perhaps an insensitive prank, a love potion slipped regularly into her morning orange juice, or maybe it’s just all in her head, a crush manifested from loneliness, from the desire to be loved by someone.

Excuses are easy to provide, yet even easier to disprove and it soon becomes clear that every attempt to deny her own feelings is fruitless. Acceptance looms over her, unmindful of the heart it’s about to break.

Acceptance comes reluctantly during an evening’s study in the library. There’s no blame to place on atmosphere this time, hidden together at the end of an aisle of shelves, sat across from one another at a desk most certainly made for one.

The characteristic smell of old books lingers in the air and speckles of dust are illuminated by a dim lamp as they float aimlessly around them. The light does nothing to highlight the red in Ginny’s hair the way the flames of the fire had during the party, or to draw the warm brown from her eyes,  yet (Y/N) is enamoured. 

(Y/N)'s quill hangs limply between her fingers, ink drying on the tip with a word half-finished on her parchment. Across from her, Ginny bites her lower lip in concentration, deep brown eyes scanning each word she writes, occasionally lifting her hands to fix the loose bun holding her fiery red hair from her face, ridding her eyes of the messy stray strands with a frustrated rush of air from her pink lips. 

(Y/N) gulps and panics slightly that in the quiet of the library, her best friend might hear the hammering of her heart in her chest. They're so close that their knees touch under the desk and (Y/N) is left unsure on whether to move her legs or not from fear of only drawing attention to it. 

She's trying to convince herself to act normal, that this is all normal, a scenario they've been in so many times before with procrastinated essays and last minute deadlines, that she has no reason to act any different, yet her heart races, and she can hear it in her own ears.

It’s terrifying.

She's mid inner quarrel when Ginny lets out a loud sigh of surrender and lets her quill clatter against the desk. (Y/N) blinks out of her daze, dropping her own quill in surprise and frowning at the red head. 

"Snape is asking for one of the twin's puking pastilles in his tea." She grumbles.

"They'd give you them for free if you tell them it's for Snape." (Y/N) manages a laugh. "How much more have you got to do?" 

Ginny peers at her own parchment, then at (Y/N)'s with a questioning frown, reaching over to snatch it into her hands. She examines it with arched brows and stifles a small laugh at whatever she's read. 

"Better than you- You've neglected to finish the word 'assignment', (Y/N)." She snorts softly. "It just says 'ass'." 

(Y/N) stands abruptly to grab it back from her amused friend with a quiet 'oi' and a flustered wide-eyed expression that only adds to Ginny's laughter until she's clasping her hand atop her lips to muffle the sound. 

"I got d-distracted." She explains embarrassedly. "It's just the first draft." 

"Oh no, I think you should hand it in as is." She grins. "I want to see Snape's face." 

"I'm not getting detention just so you can get a laugh." She argues. 

"Aw, come on." Ginny pouts. "Not even for me?" 

A part of her, a shameful part, almost instantly concedes to the offer, despite its teasing nature, just for Ginny's puppy dog eyes, which (Y/N) has until now been immune to. She falters for only a second before fixing her friend with a frown. 

"No, not even for you." She decides firmly. "Lets hear yours then, Gin." 

Ginny dramatically clears her throat with a grin, something that eerily reminds (Y/N) of her elder brothers, and begins to read aloud before (Y/N) stops her with an eye roll, cautious of the pacing click of Madam Pince's heels as she roams the aisles for the opportunity to evict noisy teens. 

"You'll be surprised to hear I finished all my words and never once spoke about my arse." 

"Sod off." (Y/N) rolls her eyes again. 

"Well, what’s got you so distracted you felt the need to conclude that you 'learned lots about counter curses from this ass'?" 

"You memorized it all ready?" 

"Of course." She beams cheekily. "How else am I to tell the rest of our friends?" 

"You are the worst." 

"You love me really though." 

(Y/N) worries when she can't laugh that off, when she falters for only a second, but enough to remind herself of this new and scary situation. She forces on a smile and hope she's been quick and convincing enough to seem normal, though something in Ginny's eyes tells her otherwise. 

"Are you okay, (Y/N)?" 

"Fine." 

"Hmm, you look nervous." Ginny hints. "What are you hiding? Is it a girl?" 

(Y/N) is exposed instantly by the involuntary widening of her eyes and Ginny grins menacingly at her from across the tiny desk. She leans over, palms flat against the desk and head so close to (Y/N)'s that their foreheads almost touch. 

(Y/N) forgets to breathe. 

"Who is it?" 

"No one." (Y/N) manages, edging back as subtly as possible. "It's not anyone." 

"Aw, c'mon." Ginny rolls her eyes. "Tell me." 

"You're going to make Madam Pince kick us out again." 

Ginny tuts, rolling her eyes and returning to her seat, allowing (Y/N) to drop her shoulders in relief. She sighs as she picks her quill up again, soaking the tip in ink with a rejuvenated intent to write, motivated by the chance to change the topic of conversation. 

"You're no fun." Ginny mumbles. "I'll find out." 

“There isn’t anything to find out.” (Y/N) exhales, not daring to look up from her parchment, knowing once again her expression will betray her. “Or anyone.”

“Oh, but there is.”

(Y/N) doesn’t need to look up to know the red-head is grinning, it’s evident in her voice. All she can do in response is take a deep, calming breath and continue with her work.

It’s not long before she can feel Ginny’s eyes on the top of her head and she freezes again, not sure when this became a talent of hers, to tell just from some new sixth sense that Ginny Weasley is staring at her.

“Can I help you?”

“Is it Willow Kings?”

“Been there, done that.” (Y/N) mumbles with a sigh. “She’s nice but talks about her owl too much.”

“Hmm.” Ginny hums in contemplation. “You’re not crushing on Pansy again, are you?”

In every single way, (Y/N) wishes that was her current shameful crush, rather than the girl currently interrogating her. When (Y/N) denies it, Ginny begins to hum again in thought.

“Luna?”

“Luna’s just a friend.” (Y/N) sighs, distinctly trying to convince herself the same thing about Ginny at this exact moment. “I’m not telling you, Gin.”

“Ugh, why not?” Ginny grumbles loudly.

The red-head’s face pales when the methodical clicking of the Librarian’s heels halts, wincing at what is soon to follow. The sound begins again, quicker and sharper as it approaches the pair.

“Shit.” Ginny curses, already gathering her work into her arms. “Here we go.”

“You two.”

The girls turn sheepishly to the other end of the aisle, where Madam Pince stares them down, one hand on her hip, other extended outwards to point at them with a disapproving look.

“We’re just leaving.” Ginny assures.

Ginny stands, reaching out innocently for (Y/N)’s hand and clasping it in her own to drag her to her feet as she splutters out protests, flustered instantly by the action. Ginny only gives her enough time to gather her things before pulling her towards the exit.

“S-low down, Ginny.” She pleads. “Sorry, Madam- “

The librarian scowls at them with an icy look as they squeeze past her towards the exist, Ginny’s laughter barely concealed as they go. (Y/N) can barely focus on anything other than the hand in her own.

Once in the corridor, convinced of their own escape from the strict librarian, Ginny flings he rhead back in a laugh, bun bouncing on her head at the action, cheeks flushed from the excitement of it.

“Every time!” She exclaims. “We get chased out every time.”

“I-“

(Y/N) is too stunned to form a sentence, stunned not by their actions, one’s regularly performed to avoid Madam Pince’s wrath, but rather how suddenly loud her heart is in her own ears.

She could blame adrenalin, it would be so easy to do so, but she knows it’s not. It’s many things, but not adrenalin. Instead Ginny’s laughter, her free and proud laughter so cheerful on her ears, it’s the baby hairs framing her face, endearingly messy, and it’s most certainly the hand still clasped in her own, warm and soft.

Acceptance, that final phase. No amount of excuses in the world could hide it now, that (Y/N) (Y/L/N) is undoubtedly, and most terrifyingly, in love with her best friend.

In this moment, watching Ginny’s grin, that infectious smile that has (Y/N) own lips pulling into a smile of her own, she’s about ready to risk it all for her, to tug her closer and ask, even beg, to kiss her.

“Ginny- “She starts

“Harry!”

Like that, the spell is broken and Ginny’s hand is slipping from (Y/N)’s and her feet carrying her towards the red faced boy-who-lived at the other end of the corridor, flinging herself eagerly into conversation with him and leaving (Y/N)’s smile to drop.

The tugging feeling in (Y/N)’s chest returns, and she finds herself back in reality. Ginny likes Harry, she always has, it’s been the topic of so many late-night teasing, how could (Y/N) possibly forget. It hurts though, in a way it never has before, a painful stab of reality sent straight to her heart.

(Y/N) has just learned for herself that falling in love is never easy, even if her heartbreak isn’t one likely to be documented as a great tragic romance in future. No one told her it would be this hard, but as she watches Ginny grinning up at the boy across the hall, her heart twists with the reluctant acceptance that, not only is she in love, but that her best friend is in  love with someone else. 

[ao3bronte]

the skies belong to no one

i’m 200% obsessed with the ml wing au...so here’s a darker take on it.

[Chapter 1: Ladybug]

[Chapter 2: Marinette]

As a civilian, Marinette’s wings are a glossy blue-purple with highlights of phosphorescent, metallic turquoise. The shoulders of her wings are a deep maroon and the pattern of white patches on the rest of her feathers are distinctive enough to set her apart from the other handful of winged students at her new lycée. Her classmates in Advanced Visual Arts gush over her bold colouring and Marinette ducks her head, flattered and embarrassed that so many people want to use her for their digital character study due at the end of the week.

In the end, she chooses a girl with striped skin to partner up with. Marinette enthusiastically admits that she finds the pattern on her new friend’s skin fascinating and together, they discuss how time consuming it can be to shave off all of the peach fuzz that grows in between each of her ebony stripes each morning. Marinette commiserates as she sketches her art partner’s neck and shoulders, moaning about how long it takes to prune her feathers to keep them silky smooth.

Most of the people Marinette knows have mammalian characteristics and the student body at her new school is no different; Collège Françoise-Dupont was tiny compared to this place. Marinette can’t help but notice all of the beautiful variations, fur and hair and spots and zig zags, that line the halls as the afternoon bell rings. Luka smiles and waves as she passes the music room, his blue hair turning pink as she grins widely and waves back. She’s happy to see a few familiar faces amidst a sea of unfamiliar students and Marinette turns her attention back to the hallways, searching the crowds for her three best friends.

“There you are!” Alya sneaks up on Marinette from behind and Marinette shrieks, inadvertently smacking her friend in the face with her wing, “Ow!”

“I’m so sorry!” Marinette spins around and rushes towards her friend, cupping her cheeks in her palms. Alya’s eyes water for a few seconds before she bursts into laughter, knowing full well that she had it coming, “Oh my god, are you alright? Are you hurt? Why are you laughing? Did I give you a concussion? How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Girl, I’m fine!” Alya assures her, checking her clawed fingers for blood and finding them thankfully clean, “I totally deserved it.”

“No you didn’t!” Marinette despairs, clinging onto Alya’s arm, “I shouldn’t be so jumpy all the time! I keep hurting people!”

“Chill, my dude,” Nino claps her on the shoulder, his amber scaled skin gleaming in the fluorescent lights shining from the hall’s ceiling, “Alya’s fine, you’re fine, we’re all good here. We’re copacetic.”

“Copacetic?” Alya rolls her eyes and smacks him lightly with the back of her hand, “Why do you always say the weirdest things?”

Nino bobs his head, “You gotta learn something new everyday, babe. Just keepin’ it real.”

“Alrighty then,” Alya turns her focus back onto Marinette, “Can you believe it’s the end of our first day at lycée? It went by so fast!”

Marinette shrugs, disagreeing for the most part. The akuma during chemistry had completely screwed up her day and now she has to complete an extra assignment as a consequence for leaving half way through and never coming back, “I’m just glad it’s over. I’m tired!”

“Me too,” Nino agrees, reaching into his jean pocket, “Dudes, have you seen Adrien? He was supposed to meet us here too.”

“Last time I saw him was in geography,” Alya explains, checking her mobile as well, “But that was fifth period. He was a few minutes late and we were all kind of shocked.”

Marinette hums, “I’m sure he’ll be here soon. Are we still going over to my place for snacks?”

“Yup,” Alya nods, “Thank god, because I’m starving—”

“Sorry I’m late!” Adrien rushes through the crowds of students, waving his arms. Unlike most winged students, maneuvering through tight spaces is easy for him, “I got stopped by my maths teacher. He was really impressed with my strategy for calculus.”

“That’s awesome, dude!” Nino and Adrien slip into their intricately choreographed handshake routine, “You’re always making a good impression, bro.”

“I try,” Adrien makes a whooshing sound as his fingers “explode” off of Nino’s and rubs at the back of his neck, “I mean, I can’t get grounded if my teachers all have nothing but nice things to say about me.”

“Except our geography teacher,” Alya counters, planting a hand on her hip, “Where were you?”

“Uh…” Adrien falters, looking a little flustered, “I was...I was on the phone with Nathalie. I have a shoot tomorrow and she wanted to tell me.”

“Gotcha,” Nino wraps his arm around Adrien’s shoulders, carefully avoiding his flaxen wings. Everyone knows not to touch them — even Chloé — and although Adrien has never explained why his wings are so sensitive, his friends have always been understanding. For many winged people, allowing another person to touch your wings is a sign of having a lot of faith in them and although Alya and Nino seem to brush it off like it’s no big deal, Marinette can’t get over why Adrien doesn’t trust any of them enough to stretch out his wings and relax,  “Come on, let’s get out of here. Marinette’s place is calling my name!”

TBC...

[tundrainafrica]

Title: En Prise (2/18)

Summary:  

Hange already had the innate analysis skills and the quick wittedness to excel in the classroom. Chess should have come easy for her. As she processed her fifth loss to the man in front of her, she started to understand that there was more to the game than meets the eye.

College AU! Levi is a little too good at chess and Hange gets roped into studying the game further.

Link to cross-postings: AO3

Link to other chapters: 1

Notes: Netflix has this new show out called “Queen’s Gambit” which makes chess look like I pretty good driver for a story. Attack on Titan has its fair amount of chess motifs as well and that’s when I knew a Chess AU has to exist somewhere in the fandom. With that, Levihan AU came into existence.

Hange found herself going on walks at the same time everyday when the air was a little cooler, the sunlight a little dimmer. She followed the same route she made on her first day. She never did enter the bar though, slightly conscious of the fact that she would be obligated to buy something if she did and at that point, she had no money to spare.

She settled for looking through the window as she walked, disappointed every time to find the same disappointing scene of empty chairs and an empty table on that one corner.

The first few days, she had attributed it to life. Maybe his day job just gets busy. No one can earn just playing chess.

A few days went by though, then the weekend, and he never did come back. Maybe he wasn’t a regular hustler? Maybe he was a dream?  Hange quickly abandoned that last thought, her empty wallet attested to the existence of that boy.

She decided that the night before classes would be her deadline. That late afternoon, she allowed herself one long look at the window, long enough at least for the owner to come out.

"May I help you?"

"The chess player who sat at the table on the corner…" Hange did not have to say too much else.

"Ahh you’re talking about Levi. Sadly I can't say when he'd be back. He usually only comes back at the most once a month to play."

"So he's been doing this for a while?"

"Since he was much younger.” The man answered. He turned to Hange and sighed. “Look,  He's a good kid. He pays for food and compensates any damages."

But he hustled me. Hange sensed the contempt she kept in her tone, as she asked the first few questions. He must have noticed it as well. It was apparent in the man's tone that he at least had some emotional attachment to the young boy.

"So this Levi guy… Would you know where I can find him?"

The owner shrugged. "Never told me. The kid doesn’t talk much."

He talks enough to hustle at least. Hange thought to herself. She could not help but remember that he had talked a fair amount for her to at least have been surprised at the bar owner’s comment. It was a particularly glaring fact since chess was a game which is supposed to be played in silence.

"Thank you. Will check back again next time then." Hänge was quick to turn around as she felt a wave of disappointment. She had no idea what type of face she was making at that moment but she bent her head down just in case.

"Do you really need the money?”

Hange looked back at the owner, the loss of her money once again painful.. “Excuse me?”

“The money he hustled from you, I mean.”

“Yes. I do.”

“Will you starve without the money?”

“No.”

“Then give the boy a break. That boy has gone to my bar long enough, something tells me that the games are all he has.”

                               En Prise      

School was a good distraction.

The fact that chess was a part of her curriculum was the only thing that made it difficult for her to completely forget the man who had welcomed her her first night. One relieving yet somehow disappointing thing to note was her professor in PE seemed more interested in making them read up on openings and present them on screen.

Zoe, you'll be assigned the Pirc Modern.

She had expected at first to be playing and maybe reliving the frustration of losing again and again in blatantly winning positions. Studying opening theory turned out to be a respite for Hange and she found herself treating the game like any other subject.

Every night, she prepared for her lectures in chemistry, then biology, then statistics, always ending her days by opening an online chess database and replaying games on the modern opening.

Her days in her chess class would start with quizzes to identify common formations. Hange was surprised to find that most of them had names.

Every time they called out the openings and presented them on the board, Hange was brought back to the large shelf in the bookstore, with what could have been a hundred books about chess. As the students read out of index cards explaining the theories behind the first opening moves, Hange was made aware of the thousands of possibilities just by the first five moves.

Of course they would have books about these.

The first pawn moves. Where they place the knight. Where they place their bishops. Where they castle.

Every decision, every move mattered. Somehow, chess was starting to make her as excited as biology and chemistry did for so long.

The Pirc Modern opening is an opening for black as a reply to the king's pawn opening for white. It is characterized by an opening reply where black plays the pawn in front of their own queen one step forward, with plans of casting king's side with a fianchettoed bishop for added protection.

When she researched her own opening and saw it played out on the board, she could not help but think that that was one of the openings Levi had played against her that night. The thirst for some sort of conclusion at having lost so miserably to that particular opening she had to study came over her and she approached it like an opponent.

It was a relatively straight forward opening. All the first ten moves were booklines and even if white did change the move order, the game usually ended up with the same position. When Hange had played it herself, she had gone through what she had deemed most logical and had gone for the center early on.  Her research introduced the possibility of  something more aggressive, an idea to close the center, castle queenside with an idea of a pawn storm towards the king.

That was the idea she introduced during her own presentation.

"That's a great idea Zoe. May I remind you though that you only needed to discuss the first ten moves and the resulting position."

Hange looked up at the board she flashed on the screen, only to realize then that she had presented thirty moves all leading up to the rook exchange sacrifice on the h file and the inevitable mate.

"Oh really?" Hänge looked back at her classmates to see that most, if not everyone were all focused elsewhere, the most attentive being those staring blankly at the screen. "Thank you for listening then."

Hange packed up her laptop and made her way to her place at the side of the room.

"It looks like everyone has already presented their openings. Since we don't have much time anymore, just prepare for next week. We'll be playing actual games then."

"Nice one Zoe. At least we don't have to actually play yet."

Hange was packing her bag when she felt a tap on her shoulder. She looked back to see that the student had already passed her through the crowd of students. It was nothing new. Most students were usually in a hurry to get out since the physical education department where they had classes was a good ten minute walk away from most other classrooms.

Other students with no classes right after, probably just preferred not to be there and it was obvious. It was one of the easier classes which did not require much physical work nor did it require the difficult choice of whether to take a shower after class or be sweaty and stinky the whole day.

The opening presentations proved to be a pleasant surprise for most people as it turned out that most students did not have to actually think beyond making a presentation and reading off index cards to actually pass the class. It had been at least a month since the start of classes and even she had forgotten for a second that chess was mainly a game of war and not just a subject for research and analysis.

Hange guessed that most of the students at the most would play the openings they had to present about. Just in case, she prepared.

On the nights leading up to her next class, she had started to memorize the most common replies to each possible opening.

Those nights, she actually dreamt of the characteristic checkered board.

                                       En Prise

"Zoe. I want to introduce you to someone."

In the midst of the bustle as students were assigned partners to play with, Hange was surprised and utterly confused to find that her name had not been on the list passed around. She had not completely processed the unexpected turn of events when her professor approached her about it. "Yes sir?"

"This is Moblit Berner. He'll be playing you today."

Hange looked up to see her professor and behind him, someone who looked to be a fellow student. Oddly enough, he was not among the faces Hange had gotten used to the past month she had been attending chess classes.

Chess is chess. Hange did not think too much of it. The pit in her stomach that made itself when she could not find her name on the list, disappeared soon after she lead her to the nearest board and placed a white pawn in front of her.

"You'll be playing white.” He looked up at her.” You can call me Moblit by the way. Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too."

Moblit started to tinker with the clock. "You've used a chess clock before I imagine."

“Actually… No.” Hange had played enough games online to know chess games were timed. That was the first time though she would be playing a timed one with someone right in front of her.

For a moment Moblit’s expression changed to that of utter surprise. “Let me set it up in front of you then.”  

“We’ll be playing a rapid game. Twenty minutes with a five second increment for every move.” He positioned the clock to Hange’s left, angling it so she could watch as he scrolled through different options. “Meaning when you move, you get an extra five seconds.”

“You ready?” Moblit held out his hand for Hange to shake. That was only the second time she has ever played a live game. The last time Hange had played one was with Levi. Back then, there was no clock. Her opponent hadn’t even bothered to shake her hand. Hange found herself a little more pissed off at Levi’s audacity.

“Ready.”

Hange opened up with the king’s pawn. Moblit responded by moving his own king’s pawn one step forward.

The French Opening.

Hange had read a fair amount about it to know it was not played by aggressive players. Another familiar one opening Levi had played against her. He had quickly sacrificed a piece for a pawn though and that opening that generally transitions to peaceful middle game, quickly transitioned to an aggressive attack for Levi.

Moblit played by the book lines of the Tarrasch opening. Hange was aware of the quick mating attacks that could follow his more mild approach towards the position.

He castled kingside and Hange only had to look at her five miserable loses to Levi to see the potential for a mating attack. A few moves into the start of the middle when Moblit played his flank pawn forward, Hange saw an opening for a mating sacrifice.  

It was like something possessed her for a split second. Hange took the pawn sticking out from the formation with her bishop. Hange only came to terms with the gravity of the sacrifice when she made eye contact with Moblit who did not look at all like he was taken by surprise at it. He took the bishop with his pawn.

Hange froze. Was it the wrong move?

It was like all the variations which Hange had thought up just a few seconds ago disappeared from her head. She was blank. She tried to push herself to think beyond that. She desperately looked up at her opponent, for inspiration, something random, unexpected to break the block that materialized in her thinking space.

Moblit’s face was unreadable. His movements were slow, careful. Although Hange recalled a slight tremble in his hands when took her bishop, with the way he looked at the board, Hange could not help but even doubt her own memory.

She looked back down at the board, trying instead to focus on what her next plan would be. Too taken aback and frustrated by her own impulsive decision though, Hange was frozen on the spot.

Her mind had become a blank slate. And that blank slate was what led to a losing end game. When the smoke had cleared, Hange was a clear two pieces down with little to no compensation.

Hange raised one out her hand in surrender. “Thank you for the game.” Hange said.  

Moblit’s eyes were wide in surprise as he took Hange’s hand. “You’re resiging?”

“There’s no way I could win now.”

“The attack was amazing. To be honest, I was a few moves until mate. It looked like you just held back at that last part. If you just brought your knight into the attack. I would have had no way to defend it.”

By the time Moblit had mentioned that last part, the pieces were close to fixed and Hange could not imagine their last position for the life of her. The embarrassment and frustration at having frozen on the spot and having lost so miserably, had her wanting to forget it at that moment. In truth, she knew would have wanted to analyze it in time. The researcher inside her was scolding her for having given up a good opportunity to learn and discover.

That only left Hange more frustrated at the recent developments. Hange pushed aside her chair and grabbed her bag more roughly than she had intended. She actually felt bad for Moblit who had jumped at her movements.

She peeked at her phone. Ten minutes before class is over. “Just tell coach what happened.” Hange said as she walked out.

She had already exited the building and was already strategizing the fastest way to the library where she could prepare for her next class. She felt a hand on her shoulder and looked back to see Moblit.

“What do you want?” Hange asked.

“Do you know why your professor made us play?”

“Are you his friend or something?” Hange gave Moblit a onceover. She did not recognize him as a classmate at all.

“I’m part of the chess team actually and we need to recruit an extra player so I asked your professor for help. He said you’d be the best one there. And you play pretty well, so you might be interested.”

“I’ve never played competitively in my life. You’re better off finding someone else.”

“I  think you’re good.” Moblit paused for a moment. “Okay not good good, but good enough to hold your own against seasoned players at least. Just give the team a chance.”

“And how many times a week do you train?” Hange asked, an attempt at proving her inability to commit more than anything else.

“Four times a week.”

Hange thought back to the amount of classes she had, the research she wanted to undertake. “Would I even have time for this.”

“Athletes don’t have to take PE classes so that’s one class off your plate.” Moblit suggested weakly.

That proposition was far from weak in Hange’s eyes though.

                                      En Prise

The chessroom was a small room hidden along the hallways that snaked through the sides of their basketball courts which connected the locker rooms to the stadium. For prestigious universities, with famous basketball teams that expected hoards of fans every season, the gyms were large enough to at least house those confusing mazes of hallways. In fact, Hange soon realized as she followed Moblit through the hallways that she would have never found it through directions alone. Someone really had to guide her through the first time.  

From the entrance of the basketball court, the only way to get there was the narrow hallway that opened up from a doorway she could have mistaken for a janitor's closet.

To her surprise though, the narrow and dark hallways came with echoes of clicks and clacks. As she walked through, the clicks only got louder. Moblit did not look at all bothered by that sound. As Hange followed him into the room at the end of the hallway, she was quick to understand why.

The room was notably spacy when compared to the narrow hallway she had just gone through a while ago. To the corner of the room were four players, three boys and one girl, playing what looked like speed cheese. The source of the clicks, from their quick taps on the clock. The source of the clacks, the sound of pieces hitting the mat spread out on the table.

One particularly large clack rang out as one of the boys in the closer boards slammed his king on the board. "We're playing again!"

"You lost three games in a row already. Just stop trying to sacrifice pieces so recklessly. You're not Levi."

Levi…  

"So this is our chessroom." Moblit said as he guided her in. "And this is our team."

That name was pushed to the back of her mind as Moblit brought her to the table to introduce her to every one of them. Their names went into one ear and out the other though, that one mention of Levi was fighting for control in her mind.

"You mentioned a Levi?"

"Why? You wanna play him?"  The blonde answered, looking particularly annoyed at the mention of that name. "Why don’t you play one of us first?."

"Actually, I have no plans of playing---."

"In fact, I've been practicing Levi's opening lines---" The blonde ended up biting his tongue as the girl next to him pushed him away.

"Sorry for the rude introduction from Oluo over here. My name is Petra. " The girl said.

"She's our new recruit." Moblit answered.

"So you finally found a replacement." The blond man on the other side stood up and walked toward Hange.  "Nice to meet you. Name's Eld."

"Wait what… replacement?"

"Gunther here can't play the season because of grades so we had Moblit try to find us a quick replacement. You have experience playing competitive chess?"

"Online?" Hange suggested.

"You got someone here with no experience playing competitive chess and her first day you bring her is when we have a simulation match with Levi. You might end up having to look for a new recruit after today." The man who had bitten his tongue a while ago looked like he had quickly recovered enough to at least laugh at Hange without wincing.  "Have you at least prepared mentally to get your ass beaten by him?"

Levi… "I feel like I've gotten my ass beaten by this person you're talking about already." Hange replied. There were only so many Levis in the vicinity who play good chess right?

                                        En Prise

Levi had a disinterested look about him which made Hange wonder what went through his head half the time. She could not help but note that that was probably why he played chess so well.

She could never tell if he was taken by surprise. When Levi entered the chess room and made eye contact with her, Hange had to focus most if not all her energy into placating that flash of recognition and softening that boiling feeling inside her. Was it anger? Or was it excitement?

Either way, it manifested as frustration at seeing the Levi's poker face. Did he recognize her?  

“This is Hange Zoe. She’ll be joining our team from today.”

"You owe me money!" Hänge said, louder than she had intended. From her peripherals, she could see Petra jumping in surprise.

"I don't remember owing anyone any money." Levi replied, his tone as disinterested as his face.

"You hustled me." Hange accused.

"I don't hustle people." Levi said calmly.

"This guy is your teammate? This guy plays competitive chess? He hangs out in bars and hustles random people over chess games.” Hange challenged. “And you get this dirty guy to represent our school?

Petra looked uncomfortable. As Hange scanned their faces, she could see they all were looking for something else to focus on.

“Erwin asked me to play all of you today since he can’t make it to training.” Levi turned to Hange. “ WIll you be joining us today?” He had said it so politely and calmly yet  had completely ignored her accusation only a second ago. That was enough to get Hange’s blood boiling.

“She’s our new recruit. I think it would be a good experience if she plays too.” It was Moblit who had answered for her.”

“Wait, play with this dirty man? He might steal my money again.” Hange protested.

Levi sighed. “Zoe, let’s make a deal then, if you beat me here, I’ll give you back the money you bet. How does 500 dollars sound?” So he did recognize her.

500 dollars. That was more than what she had lost for sure. “There must be some catch to this.”

Levi shrugged. “Just stop with these accusations so we don’t waste anymore time. Erwin’s gonna get angry if we don’t finish the game today.”

Hange could only watch as Levi and the other players pulled out a long table from the side and set up chess boards and placed the chess clocks on the table.

Hange sat next to Petra. The latter grabbed the chess clock from Hange’s left side and set it up. “55 minutes with a 10 second increment”

“Everyone has to play their best opening for white. Erwin’s orders.”

“It’s not like you’re actually gonna play a bookline anyway so what’s the point.” Oluo commented.

Everyone ignored him.

Hange watched from her seat as Levi walked through all the tables. From her place she could see that Eld had moved already. What move he was playing, she could not tell. Levi quickly replied to Eld’s first move.

Beside her, Hange could see Petra had played her queen’s pawn forward.

“You have more than enough of an advantage to beat me Zoe. I’m playing five people and you have nothing to lose.” Levi said as he arrived in front of Hange’s board. “Make your move.”

Hange pushed her king’s pawn forward.

Levi stared for a second and raised one eyebrow. A disinterested and judgemental look plastered on his face. Hange could not help but doubt her opening. Is there something wrong with e4?  

Levi replied with b5, the pawn in front of his knight. Hange had never seen that in her life but what she managed to a see a few seconds later was the clear line from bishop to pawn.

She could take it and develop her bishop at the same time. She had read it before. Focus on developing pieces at the opening stages.

Was the pawn free though?   One thing Hange had learned from losing to Levi multiple times though was that Levi could easily turn a piece down position into an attack for himself.

“Hurry up and move Zoe. You’re the only one still in the opening.” Hange jumped to see Levi standing in front of her.

Hange looked to her clock.  30 minutes. She’d been thinking for at least 30 minutes. Or at least trying to think. Her mind was still blank.

“Do you still want your money back?”

That was the provocation Hange needed. She took the pawn with her bishop.

Levi quickly replied by placing his bishop on the square where the pawn was only a second ago.

The clock was ticking for Hange again. Develop your pieces. Hange played Nc3, a normal developing move to defend the pawn. Levi quickly played f5. The past few moves Levi had not left her board and as Hange looked to the others, she could see they were all deep into middlegame positions.

She looked back at the position in front of her. Another free pawn.

“Don’t you have other boards to play?”

“One less board to play if I finish one now.”

Hange took the pawn on f5.

“I’ll teach you how to win a game a rook up.” It took Hange a few minutes to notice it. After Levi had moved his bishop to the take the pawn on her right wing, at the same time threatening to take the rook,  he walked away, leaving Hange with the problem of how to save a trapped rook and the futile loss that came with it. It also gave Hange enough time to reflect, to ponder on the fact that Levi had alluded to one of their games only a week ago. Levi had been down a rook for most of one game yet managed to win.

Hange developed her knight in front of the king, having completely given up on defending the rook. From then on, she had focused on simple development. That was what Levi had done after all, when he was a rook down.

“You gave up pretty fast.” Levi commented only a few moves later.

“I’m still playing.” Hange said. The pieces were all set up but Levi was a clear rook up. From then on, Levi had not left her table in the simulation match. Levi’s material advantage only increasing from that point. The same pattern, it was definitely not as slow as it had been back in the bar when Hange was always a piece up. The advancement of Levi’s forces on the board were rapid

She found herself spending a few seconds looking at the board of Petra to see the material advantage was equal.

She couldn’t even do that much. Hange found herself playing faster and faster. It could have been from frustration or from the desire to have that humiliation end. Levi only entertained that in her as he matched her speed.

“It’s good manners to resign when you’re losing Zoe.”

Hange did not even have time to organize her forces. A black knight had planted itself in the middle of the board and the black queen was staring down at her uncastled white king.

Hange did not need to look up to feel it. Everyone’s eyes were on her and Hange chose to wait. Eventually, Levi walked away from the board and she could hear the clack and the click as he moved the pieces and pressed the clock. Then more footsteps then the clack and the click again.

Levi never did go back to her board. He didn’t need too. Hange only had to look at the clock next to her to know the game would be over soon.

“Resign.” It was Petra who resigned soon after her clock hit zero. Oluo resigned a few minutes after.

When Hange finally looked up, she could see Moblit, Oluo and Petra gathered around the board between Eld and Levi. Eld had his hands to his head while Levi just stood waiting, looking as disinterested and uninvested as he always did.

From her angle, she could not see what had happened on the board, but as she heard the sound of a piece slamming into the board, soon followed by Eld standing up, she knew it was over. Levi had beaten all of them in a sweep.  

“It’s getting late.”

Petra and Oluo had gathered up their pieces into the middle of the chess mats while Moblit and Eld

“Just keep a record of your games. Erwin will look through them.”

“Record?” Hange only noticed then, that there papers on top of the board as well.

“I forgot to tell you... I’m sure Erwin won’t mind if you didn’t have one, it’s your first day after all.” Moblit said, his tone apologetic.

“I’ll help her replay the game. You three can go ahead.”

Soon, it was just the two of them in the room.  

“Do you even know how to record games?”

“I learned in PE class but it gets confusing.”

“I’ll write it down for you to save you time.” Levi said as he set up a board in front of her. He soon replayed the game one by one, pausing to write on the board every few moves, not even bothering to ask her if he had recalled it correctly.

He had set up on the board the moment his bishop took her rook. He replayed her next move when she had developed the knight in front of her king, making sure to tap the piece multiple times on the board before writing it down. The face he made as he did that, only clued Hange in to the fact that it was probably the wrong move. “You gave up too easily.” Levi commented

“I was a rook down.”

“If we switched boards I could have won this position.” Levi said as he continued to play quickly through it.  He stopped at one familiar position, having opened a clear path for the knight to plant itself on the middle of the board. “The game is already lost at this point. There’s no need to analyze it.” Levi explained. He wrote out the last few moves on the paper, not bothering to play them out.

“You didn’t need to point it out.” Hange said as she watched Levi push the pieces towards the middle of the board. “Thank you for doing it though.” The words were difficult to say. Hange only found the strength to say it as Levi returned the board to the box on the side of the room.  

“It just bothers me. For someone who is so willing to play ten games in a row, you give up too easily on the board.” Levi shrugged.  “At least, I got some money out of it.”

“So you admit you were hustling me.”  

“You were winning in all your games. You just managed to fuck up in the middle and lost some money, that’s all there is to it.”

[mariaiscrafting]

yo i saw your post to canon about gender studies and stuff and i ran out of asks ages ago so I couldnt send this until now, but feel free to go off about gender and stuff, i would love to hear it- maybe tag me in it if you do? - evilglitter (canon's canonical spouse)

Heya, @evilglitter! Lol yeah, I saw canon’s reply and I was just gonna ask, like, what exactly y’all would like me to go off about. It was kinda an open-ended sorta reply where I can really talk about anything y’all are interested in/questioning about, I guess.

If y’all don’t have any specifics you wanna know about for now, that’s cool, too, I can go off about what’s been bothering me lately and helping me along my own journey to pin point my gender identity. 

The first thing my brain’s been hung up on is the difference between gender identity & expression. So, just as people say pronouns /=/ gender, I’m of the belief that expression /=/ gender, either. To explain this to people and better-conceptualize it myself, I always return to the kind of example this trans lady on Youtube (Contrapoints) goes back to. She brings up various examples of people who wear makeup: First, there is a cisgender man who might be mistaken as a woman when he wears feminizing makeup but is still a man nonetheless, whether wearing makeup or not. Then there’s a cisgender man who uses he/him pronouns when out of drag but she/her pronouns and a female name when in it, but still identifies as a man in and out of drag, almost like he’s playing a character. There are non-binary, genderfluid people who will identify as men and use he/him pronouns out of drag, while identifying as women and using she/her pronouns in drag; they identify themselves as women and men depending on their expression. And there are transgender women who identify as women in and out of drag, regardless of their expression. I’m not sure if I’m articulating this example too well - it’s much better-articulated in video format, I think - but that’s basically how I see gender identity and expression. They are two separate things that draw from each other and might have links to each other, depending on each individual’s view on their own gender, but don’t have to match at all. Butch lesbians can have a more masculine gender expression, and yet identify as cisgender women. Transmasc people can also have a masculine gender expression, and yet identify as trans men, non-binary, or anything else. Gender identity does not have to equate with expression, and that’s a really difficult box that I’ve had to learn to break out of, for my own sake, and through the gen & sexuality studies I’ve been doing at uni. Like, as a presumed cis woman my whole life, I’ve just assumed that to be perceived as a woman, I need to express myself femininely, and that if I fit into that feminine gender expression, I do not deviate from the identity of a woman. But lately I’ve been grappling with the idea that maybe I don’t identify as much as a woman as I once thought, that when I look inside myself and question the role I want to fit into in society, how I want my peers and colleagues to treat me, and my own characteristics/tendencies, I might not be as binary a woman as I always was taught to believe, and none of these things are affected by the fact that I’m curvy or wear skirts and heels or wear makeup; I can be as feminine or as masculine as I like, but to me, those do not equate my gender, and it’s okay if they don’t.

Lol the other thing I’d like to rant about for now is different theories of gender. First, I’d like to say that I’m by no means an expert. I’m literally just some second-year G&S minor who’s watched a lot of videos from trans people, learned a lot from Tumblr over the past 7-8 years, and read a couple texts here and there. I don’t know nearly as much as I’d like to pretend, but I’ll give my take on what I do know a little about. There are lots of different theories on what exactly gender is that overlap and contradict each other, at times. There’s the biological perspective that I’m sure we’re all familiar with - the belief that gender = your sex assignment. The problems with this theory are obvious, in that it doesn’t account for intersex people/people with chromosomal/hormonal discrepancies, or binary transgender people. Basically, the theory that XY = man and XX = woman is pretty... antiquated and flawed, imo. Then there’s the theory that gender is a bunch of performances, which I think came from Judith Butler, this well-known 2nd Wave feminist. This theory basically states that gender is this, like, specific, stylized series of actions that we perform everyday to fit into what our society’s roles for our genders are. Butler would probably disagree with me about expression versus identity, because to her, gender identity doesn’t go beyond the performance of one’s own gender. Basically, what we perform everyday, whether it be to act feminine, masculine, or androgynously, is telling of what our gender identity is. If we perform the actions of being a woman, then we are a woman, etc. Finally - and I’m sure there are many more theories on gender, but these are three I’m most familiar with - there’s the theory I personally most agree with - gender as a social construct. This is the idea that gender is constructed by societies, that gender roles are imposed onto us from the external, and that we are then socialized into whatever gender. I don’t totally agree with this theory because I do believe that gender goes beyond just the social roles we try to adhere to to fit into society, and the socialization we undergo from childhood; I do believe there is something at least a little innate about one’s own gender identity. The road social construct theory goes down is this one where, if we created a society free of hierarchies and gender roles and such, gender would cease to exist, which... is that true, I don’t really know. But I do think that gender is at least somewhat of a construct that society first created because it was useful for the creation of an efficient society, but is now just used to justify oppression, and that beyond that, gender as it functions in society is just this illusion that we could 100% do without if we want to obtain equality or whatever.

But anyways, lol I dunno if any of what I’ve just ranted about makes sense or is what y’all were looking for, and honestly at this point, I’m just using this as an opening for me to rant about something I’ve had bottled up for quite a while. I apologize for not being totally coherent since I’m not very experienced in actually talking about gender theory. If y’all want to chat about something specific, feel free to ask anything. :) Hope your journey to figure out your gender goes well, @canonurl

[lazysublimeengineer]

Dream Place

The rustling sounds of the paper reverberated softly against the walls of his laboratory as he continued writing some equations and diagrams for the next experiment and research that he’ll do with Chrome and Kaseki. The stone wars were finally over. Everything was back to normal. Another busy day of preparations in the Kingdom of Science.

Now that he temporarily formed a truce with Tsukasa, he can finally continue his goal of saving the lives of petrified people and pushed forward the civilization towards the era of modernization with the help of science.

So, for the next few days he can see everyone greeting him amid their busy work. Except for one.

The cryptic, viridian eyed archer: Ukyo Saionji. He was quiet, observant and polite. But his thoughts and goals were mostly shrouded by his inscrutable smile. He can never quite figure him out unlike the other people that he observed and studied previously. Despite Ukyo’s peaceful reticence and congenial attitude with the others, he was always controlled and his seraphic features were always obscured by his closed off smile and mystifying gaze.

Senkuu now realized how Ukyo could survive a year in the empire of Tsukasa.

His presence intrigued him.

Senkuu finally found him one day sitting at the top of one the oldest and tallest trees in the world. His hat was down on his face while his hands were clasped gently in front of him. He wasn’t deceived of his soporific stature as he knew that the sonar man possessed a sharp sense in hearing.

“There you are.” He stared up nonchalantly at his direction.

“Do you need something from me Senkuu?” Ukyo’s voice is tranquil and unruffled like a wave less water around the sea.

“Do you always relax in strange places?” Senkuu asked instead as he stared up at the male who was sitting comfortably in one of trunks of the tree with an arched brow and curious gaze.

“They’re more quiet and peaceful. Unlike in some places that has too much noise and distraction.” Ukyo finally took off his hat from his face and smiled serenely at him.

There’s that smile again that Senkuu couldn’t decipher the meaning behind. Senkuu prided on himself on being able to observe and study the people around him to decipher the true nature of their characters. That’s one of the reasons why he could see through Tsukasa’s hidden nature and radical but dangerous beliefs early on their meeting in the past. But with Ukyo, he couldn’t quite get a thorough read on him. That damn smile and pleasant voice seemed to be plaster on his face regardless if he’s upset or not. No wonder he ended up as one of the right-hand man of Tsukasa alongside with Hyoga. That kind of characteristics would work well for him as a double agent in the future. And he was certainly toying with that kind of idea at the back of his mind.

“Sensory overload.” He replied simply.

“Hmm?” Ukyo gave him a quizzical look.

“Because of your insane hearing sonar man. You need something to prevent that and it might affect your performance in the future if we just leave it be. And that’s why I’m looking for you. C’mon.” Senkuu turned around and began walking away, not waiting to see his reaction.

He almost blurted out an inconceivable mistake of admitting that he just wanted to see him out of curiosity and nothing else. He had a reputation to uphold and he didn’t want him to give any weird ideas to the cryptic archer about himself.

Ukyo seemed surprised for a few seconds, blinking at his words before a small but sincere smile hovered around his lips as he jumped down the tree and followed him.

“Thank you Senkuu.”

“Don’t thank me yet since it’s not done.” He scoffed lightly to which it earned an amuse chuckle from the other male.

He decided that Ukyo was still an enigmatic conundrum to him but he was still a man of science after all. And there were no mysteries that science can’t unravel.

The next time Senkuu saw Ukyo was when he was inside his laboratory and giving him a brief report about the progress of their ship building. He was wearing the earmuffs that he made for him the other day. It was coated in the same shade of his clothes and he surmised that it fits him very well. Not that he was ogling of course. It was a simple observation and conclusion from his scientific mind.

He would’ve created a noise cancelling headphones for him but he theorized that it would take a very long time due to the limited resources that they’ve had in the stone world and not to mention he still had other necessary projects that he needed to finish such as the ship that they’re planning to build on.

“We may need 12” x 12” lumber or larger pieces of timbers for the keel of the ship and numerous pairs of straight and curved timbers for its frames. Also—.”

“That earmuffs look good on you Ukyo-chan.” Gen sang and Ukyo stopped midway upon hearing the mentalist’s silky voice.

Senkuu immediately recognized that his mischievous undertones as bad news.

‘What the hell does this mentalist wants now?’ Senkuu inwardly grumbled as he kept his nonchalant expression on his face while he continued checking the contents of his flask for the experiment he was working on.

“Ah, thank you Gen.” Ukyo smiled amiably at him.

“Have you requested it from Senku-chan?” He asked innocently.

“No. He gave it to me willingly.”

“Oh.” Gen’s mouth formed an “o” expression and Senkuu wanted to smack off the smug expression on his face.

“Oi. Maybe if you focus on your assigned task instead of wasting your time here with idle chat that would’ve been more productive of you.” Senkuu deadpanned.

“Don’t be such an uptight spoilsport Senku-chan! Besides this is also part of our work since we’re getting to know our co-workers better through work socializing!” Gen shot him a Cheshire grin and Senkuu already smelled his bullshit just a million miles away from here. If this is any other day, he would’ve tolerated it and probably chimed in with his devious plans but since his teasing was even more or less directed towards them, to him specifically, it made him exacerbated.

“Lady luck must be smiling for you Ukyo-chan since Senkuu-chan usually takes in a request with getting something in return but not doing a voluntary philanthropic work.” Gen remarked in a sing song voice.

“Ah, it must be for practical purposes since my hearing sensitivity can affect my work in the future if it’s leave unattended. I’m sure that’s what Senkuu has in mind when he made them for me.” Ukyo held an adorable yet awkward smile on his lips, not getting the hint behind Gen’s words and teasing.

Ah, what a stark contrast to his usual sharp and complex nature. He can be maladroit towards a simple jive about him sometimes.

“Oi Gen. I’m still here.” A tick mark formed on Senkuu’s forehead.

Gen chuckled lowly and was about to respond when Kaseki dashed inside his laboratory and tugged on the collar of the mentalist much to his chagrin.

“I’ll be needing your assistance again young lad! Help me out on the recent structure that Senkuu has trusted me to work on!” Kaseki was now dragging Gen outside the laboratory.

“But you have Chrome with you now! And I still need to do something else!” Gen cried and sporting a devastated yet comical expression on his face.

“It seems like Kaseki is quite fond of Gen.” Ukyo’s eyes danced in amusement as he watched Gen was being dragged away by Kaseki outside the lab.

Senkuu scoffed. “More like Gen is being turned into his own assistant now since he doesn’t have any heavy workload every day.” He placed the flask back to its spot after studying it.

For a moment, silence hung in the air with the only occasional tinkering sounds coming from Senkuu’s side since he was experimenting on something.

“Senkuu.”

Ukyo’s tranquil voice made him glance back at the archer. “What? Do you need—” He stopped midway as he stared at the wide mouth transparent bottle with a miniature display of a moon inside. He was pleasantly surprised at the object that was sitting right in front of him.

“That’s for you.” Ukyo replied simply.

What? How? Why? These are the three questions that raced inside the scientist’s head before he gazed back at the archer who seemed unruffled by his initial reaction and was sporting one of his enigmatic smiles once again.

“What is this?” He found his voice at last.

“It’s a scaled down moon inside a transparent bottle.” Ukyo answered easily.

“I know what it is.” Senkuu deadpanned. “But what I wanted to know is why are you giving this to me? Is there something that you need from me in return?” He arched a brow.

Ukyo laughed, emitting a rich, vibrant and warm tones from his throat. It made Senkuu annoyed and entranced at the same time since it’s rare for him to hear him laughed genuinely like that.

“There is no other hidden reason Senkuu except that I just want to.” He tilted his head to the side. “I’m not sure of what other uses that you can do with it except for display purposes but I know with your brilliant mind you will utilize it in the future for your scientific endeavors.” Ukyo added warmly.

Senkuu just stared at him intently, his vermilion irises boring into his soul as if deciphering the genuineness of his words.

He chortled afterwards. “If this is your way of saying thank you to me because of the earmuffs then you really have a shred of romantic idealist within you. Like I said, I’m not the type of person you should be saying some thank you for.”

Ukyo shook his head idly. “Ah, you’re mistaking me again as like that. As I’ve told you previously I’m nothing but a coward. But after witnessing you and achieving your humanistic goals through the help of science, it made me think that it’s not quite too late. For me at least.”

A soft grin made its way to his face. “You’re such a sap sonar man. Get back to the others and help them in building that ship so that we can march on forward.”

“Of course.” Ukyo beamed at him before he bid him a quick goodbye and left.

A fond exasperation crossed the scientist’s features. When he was on the verge of finally figuring him out, another layer of his character was exposed to him that shrouded him in inscrutability. But maybe that’s how Ukyo was.

Nevertheless, he won’t get tired of peeling them away to know the intriguing truth behind his cryptic smiles and pleasant tones.

He was a man of science after all.

How exhilarating.

(A/N: I don't own any of the characters from this franchise. This was inspired by that negotiation scene of Senkuu & Ukyo in episode 7 of season 2. I was supposed to make a Senhaku oneshot but lo and behold that infamous phone conversation between Ukyo and Senku has sparked some interest and inspiration from my shipping heart. It’s filled with a little bit of a tension and intrigue from both parties. Also, Ukyo is one of the most beautiful characters in the show and he has a sexy voice. Usen is a rarepair but I’m still boarding on this ship. I'm a bit late into this fandom but sharing this story anyway. Apologies in advance for any grammatical errors as English is not my native language and if the characters are OOC. I tried my best to capture their characters similarly in the show.)

[artificialqueens]

What's Her Name? (Gigi x Nicky) - Mina

A/N: I’m working really hard on a fairy au right now (go to @goodemornting for updates on that lmao) but in the meantime I wanted to do something different! I hope you all enjoy it :)

Your soulmates name shows up on your arm when you turn 15. Gigi’s only problem is that her’s is in French, and she doesn’t speak a word of it.

Soulmates are a pretty common thing. Realistically they shouldn’t be; even with someone’s name written on your arm, what are the odds you’re going to find them in a sea of seven and a half billion people? Not only is it unlikely, it’s improbable. What if you have a name on your arm like John Smith? How many John Smiths do you have to go through before you can find the “one and only”? Soulmates were romanticized, and frankly unnecessary in Gigi’s humble opinion. She wouldn’t have had the slightest interest in finally finding her own but it’s hard to find someone who doesn’t at least have some idea of who their soulmate is. There are a lot of tells, like what language the name is written in, what gender the name is usually assigned to, stuff like that. Probably the biggest reason why so many people in the world have managed to find their soulmates is because they care so much about it. Apparently there’s also like, a gut feeling you get, when you meet them. Like you know for a fact that they’re the one and only. She’d never experienced it herself, but according to the people in her life who had met their soulmates before, there’s just some kind of pull, like on an instinctual level. This subconscious feeling you have that they’re the right person for you. And when the names match up - well, there’s really no way to deny it, at that point.

It’s kind of a sweet notion, in a way. To know someone all your life by a set of letters and then when you finally get to meet them, that they’re the right person, and they’ve been thinking of you too. Gigi was independent sure, career driven and logical, but she would’ve been lying if she wasn’t the slightest bit interested in what her soulmate might look like, what perfume they might use, what their favorite band might be. It was drilled into her since she was younger, in her defense, but that yearning feeling that encased every bone in her body whenever she accidentally glanced down at the cursive words delicately engraved on her arm made her wish that she could just find them already, so she could focus on more important things than the love of her life.

The only problem was, that the name imprinted neatly on her arm just happened to not be written in English, but some terrible variation of French.

Truth be told, she’d started studying French ever since google translate had helpfully informed her that’s what language the name was written in. She knows it starts with N, probably ends in L or Y, but her soulmates parents must’ve decided to give their child the most unique spelt name on the planet because the letters every French person had told her that the name possessed didn’t form anything that has much of a ring to it. She really hoped it was a girl’s name, because, well, it would be pretty inconvenient for her if her soulmate was a guy (Considering that she’s, like, a lesbian, and all). But other than that there were absolutely no indicators as to what it could say.

It used to bother her a lot more when she was younger. Being seventeen and knowing absolutely no characteristics of your soulmate is both pretty rare and pretty sad, but it’d never been her primary concern. She had other things to fill her life with, like good friends and family, school, art, overpriced coffee. It was frustrating that she couldn’t read it, but also extremely easy to distract herself from. Besides, having no way of knowing what the her soulmates name was gave her plenty of time and energy to spend helping her friends with their soulmate problems, and there’s plenty of those to go around.

Gigi stirred her tea, poking her tongue out slightly from between her lips. She hated that all the tapioca pearls end up sinking to the bottom, she didn’t want to put the straw in only halfway and get a mouthful of tea, but at the same time she didn’t want to drink all the boba all at once because it’s all pooled at the bottom. There were probably more important things that she could be focusing on right now, but this was a major pet peeve of hers. She cares a whole lot about how her bubble tea is consumed! The tapioca should be dispersed evenly throughout the drink, anything else is a disgrace.

Jan looked between her own two multicolored drinks, narrowing her eyes in contemplation. She was probably trying to decide which one to drink first, but it’s still pretty funny to watch. After Gigi had given up on fiddling around with the tapioca pearls, she sipped her tea and laced her fingers together, leaning forward to look at the blonde closer.

“You could try drinking the one they gave you for free.” She remarked, Jan’s golden brown eyes sliding up to meet hers with a sheepish smile. They’d been best friends since grade school but she still got way too easily embarrassed when Gigi gave her advice, it was pretty stupid. “Since you like the other one more, right?”

“I mean,” Jan pouted again, cocking her head like an upset puppy. “I like taro and lychee evenly, I just wanted lychee this time.”

“Hmm.” Gigi hummed, chewing her lip. “I’m trying to decide if you’re an immediate satisfaction kinda girl or the kind to bide your time. Or you could alternate between the two. Get a good mix of the one you’re in the mood for and the one you’re not in the mood for to keep you going.”

“That’s pretty gross, Gigi.” The older pointed out, wearing a wry smile. “It’s weird that I even have two to begin with.”

“Business as usual for you,” she chided, taking another sip of her single strawberry flavoured tea. Jan was lucky, generally. Gigi didn’t mean that in a jealous way, it was just true, and a little unnerving, at times. The fact that whoever ordered the taro bubble tea had completely took off, prompting the worker to offer it to the blonde, wasn’t even surprising to her at this point. Jan was even lucky in the soulmate department, kinda. The name on her arm was Jacquline Cox, pretty basic, and apparently they’d already met - though Jan hadn’t given her a lot of information about the mystery woman other than something about long dark hair and Persian food.

“It makes me feel awkward,” Jan complained with a sigh. “Who comes to a cafe and orders two boba teas?

“People who are really thirsty, probably.”

“I guess you’re right,” She conceded, but she still looked apprehensive, so Gigi reached across the table and grabbed the taro drink to take a long sip of it. She wasn’t the biggest fan of taro (It’s hard to describe, it’s too earthy for her taste?) but the eyebrow raise from the older woman was funny, so it was worth the slightly unpleasant flavour. “Gigi?”

The brunette glanced up from the tea, watching as Jan’s lip curled up harshly, thinking about her next choice of words. “You said wanted to catch up today?” She asked after a moment, and Gigi buffered briefly before nodding.

“Yeah. It’s so weird not going to the same school.” Gigi smiled sadly, drawing a smiley face in the condensation of her cup, “I’m not used to not seeing you every day, but you said the new school is better, right?”

“It’s not much different than the one we went to last year,” Jan shrugged, “But it’s a good school. It’s nice going somewhere where people don’t all remember me from primary.” She chuckled, rubbing the back of her neck. “It’s how I met Jackie, so I can’t be too mad about it.”

Gigi can’t help being a little bit more attentive after she hears the name, but she’s not very expressive at the best of times, so there probably wasn’t much more than a slight shift in her expression. The shorter woman was pretty good at picking up on that stuff, though, so she wasn’t surprised at the knowing smirk smiling back it her. “You know, you could just ask if you want me to tell you about her.”

Gigi winked, leaning forward on the table and resting her head against her hands. “Tell me then, what’s Miss Jacqueline like?”

“She’s from Iran, transfer student, stupidly funny, super smart, tall,” Jan sounded wistful, smiling serenely. The expression was generally deceiving, but thankfully Gigi had a pretty good idea of how to read her, too. It comes with being best friends for so long. She chewed her boba, waving a hand to encourage the blonde to continue. “I’ve been so happy lately, she really completes me. I don’t think she likes me much yet though.”

Gigi swallowed, narrowing her eyes. “Hmmm, maybe she’s just nervous. Does she have eyes? You’re pretty attractive.” She hesitated, “Probably.”

“Thank you,” Jan giggled, “But that’s not really what I meant.” She sighed, swirling her tea with her straw. “It’s complicated.”

“I’ve got time.” She hinted, rather than say that she’d been waiting on this tea since Jan had first mentioned meeting her soulmate, and that she’d been starved of this kind of thing in her own life so she was more than happy to be hearing about it in her friends.

Gigi had never been good at any of that… romantic stuff, which people often found surprising given how confident she was normally. She didn’t read often, but on the rare occasion that she did, and she got to the romantic part of a book, she felt terribly flustered the whole time through. She had no composure. She’d just have no idea what to say, or what might be tactful to do in any situation. Sure, holding hands and cuddling sounded nice, but beyond that- things like communication, and physical gestures of affection, were intimidating. Not scary, necessarily, or unappealing (because wow Gigi loved to be kissed by g… girls…) but definitely intimidating. A large part of her was worried that when she eventually met her soulmate, she’d embarrass herself with a total lack of expertise in that area. Then again, the whole point of a soulmate is that they’re your one and only, so maybe they’d both be completely unequipped to handle what being a soulmate might entail. In general Gigi was most worried about identifying them, though. Who’s to say that they’d know English? Maybe they don’t know what the name - which was hopefully written nicely since her handwriting could be terrible at times - on their arm says either.

Jan groaned. “She’s so nice to me but she’ll never initiate it? Like if I compliment her she goes along with it otherwise it feels forced?”

Gigi scoffs, picking at her nails, the answer is fairly obvious. “It sounds like she’s doing that thing that people do in the movies.” She dipped her thumb in the puddle of water that’d formed on the table from the drips of condensation dripping off her drink. “What’s it called, playing hard to get?”

“Y’know, that does sound kinda accurate,” Jan smiled, which told Gigi that shes completely right. She’s glad for that, too, because she really just repeated platitudes. “Why don’t we talk about something else? You haven’t told me how you’ve been, recently.”

By the time they’d both finished their bubble teas (as well as the taro one in the middle of the table), they figured it’d be a good time to head home. Gigi begged the shorter woman to keep her posted on the Jackie situation, and Jan swore that she would with a roll of her eyes.

The brunette’s text came in while she was at the mall. When her phone vibrated, she stopped for a second to check the notification. It was Jan, of course, the paragraph of emojis next to her name lighting up Gigi’s lock screen.

The blonde has texted her a picture; she doesn’t recognize the subject of the photo, but she can only assume that it’s the Jackie Cox soulmate woman, or else there’d be no reason for the candid shot. She’s facing away from the camera, looking off into a cityscape, but her head is turned very slightly, and there’s a fond smile practically glowing off of her face. From what Gigi can see, her eyes are a deep wood brown, she’s freakishly tall and probably towers over Jan, and her hair is dark and curled slightly at the tips. She nods sagely, this woman and Jan would look like a cliche Pinterest board aesthetic together. The Persian woman is beaming, which probably means that the two getting along just fine- which is contrary to what Jan had told her so mayb-

Someone (or something? But she’s pretty sure it’s a someone because whatever it is is warm) collides into Gigi’s shoulder, and knocks not only her phone out of her hands, but also her feet out from under her. With an undignified sound, she watches the ground get closer to her, and then blinks in confusion when it suddenly stops roughly a foot away from her face.

“Oh my gosh, I’m sorry!” it’s a woman’s voice, Gigi thinks, and vaguely accented, but her English sounds pretty okay. When she turns her head she is accutly aware of of pale blonde hair brushing against the woman’s shoulders, the sweet scent of honeysuckle perfume, a Lana Del Rey shirt tightly hugging her chest. “I wasn’t looking where I was going, are you alright? Mon dieu, your phone..”

Huh? Gigi followed her line of sight and noticed that her phone was on the floor some ways away. As soon as her eyes landed on it, the blonde woman kneels and lifts it up delicately, wiping it off with the silky red scarf she’s wearing. It’s at that moment that it occurs to her that she’s still being held up by the other girl, and when she’s pulled to her feet, she takes a step back and chews her thumbnail, blinking at the vision before her.

This girl is fairly tall, definitely has an inch or two on Gigi. Her hair is shiny, concealed by a stylish black beret, and her eyes are sharp and seemingly all knowing. She’s remarkably pretty, Gigi’s heart beginning to get that fluttery feeling she gets whenever she makes eye contact with an unfortunately attractive girl her age. She tries to calm it down, though, because she can’t imagine that going all ditzy-highschooler on this girl will help the interaction any. It’s awkward enough as it is.

“I’m fine,” She says quietly, before the blonde girl can begin to fret about her phone. “I shouldn’t have been standing in the middle of the walkway on my phone, so it’s my fault, probably.” Gigi wipes down the wrinkles in her shirt, watching relief cross over the girl’s features. She’s looks French, the brunette concedes. Like she stylishly sell you a baguette on the side of the street, and her accent further hints at it. She’s probably around Gigi’s age as well.

“I’m happy that you aren’t mad.” The girl smiles. “But it’s still my fault.” She clears her throat, rubbing the back of her neck. “Could I make it up to you?” The way she asks it is curious, like she has some sort of other reason for asking, but Gigi holds her tongue. “I was going to this restaurant- pardon me, my name is Nicolette — are you free right now? – Not that you have to be, we could do it later – they make a really good stir-fry.”

For a pretty girl, Nicky stutters more than Gigi would’ve expected. It’s cute, charming almost, and the offer sounds great right about now. “That sounds fine.” She smiles, suddenly forgetting whatever she had come to the mall for because stir fry and French woman definitely sounded like her cup of tea.

“Perfect! I didn’t catch your name, by the way,” Nicolette - that’s a long name, maybe she could shorten it to Nicky - remarks thoughtfully, and Gigi realises that she’s a fool.

“Gigi.” She replies, and then adds, “Goode. My name is Gigi Goode.” Inwardly she scolds herself, that introduction could’ve been much smoother. For a minute she thinks she was so weird about it that Nicky has been thoroughly unsettled, but it crosses her mind after a bit of thought that the French woman’s comically widening eyes probably isn’t on account of her stuttering.

“Gigi Goode?” Echoes the girl. “Wait, uhm,” she shakes her head quickly, eyes frantically flicking between her arm and Gigi’s own, which is concealed by her coat sleeve. “Do you-” Nicky fumbled with her shirt, yanking it up with one hand. When Gigi looks down at the girl’s arm, she sees some incredibly familiar letters written, tiny hearts dotting every i. “Do you spell your name with-”

“Yeah. Yeah - yeah I do.“ The brunette interrupts, vision suddenly becoming blurry. She pulls up her own sleeve, feeling like she’s in some kind of a stupor, and holds out her forearm shakily to the taller woman. “Is this your name? I’ve never been able to read it.”

There’s a moment of silence.

“That is certainly my name,” Nicky replies, voice high pitched and frantic. “It’s spelt weird, you know, with the q and u and stuff but - merde that’s my name.”

Honestly, Gigi isn’t really capable of thinking clearly right now, but by the sounds of it she might’ve just found her soulma-

She gets knocked off her feet for second time within five minutes. This time, though, Nicky isn’t able to catch her, because though Nicky is again the reason she goes down, the blonde’s arms are occupied by being thrown tightly around Gigi’s shoulders.

“I’m so glad to meet you!” The woman bursts out, and the brunette’s face warms at the close proximity. “I came to America to look for you, did you know that? I suppose you wouldn’t, as we’ve never met before, but I- well- I’ve been searching for so long and some days I felt like I would never find you- that is a bit too much information for a first meeting, sorry, - and I’ve knocked you over again too, oh-”

“It’s okay,” Gigi dismisses quickly. “I don’t mind.” She doesn’t, though her face is definitely like a thousand degrees right now. Nicky beams at her, strands of angel blonde hair falling in front of her eyes, and Gigi swallows down a bit of flustered anxiety. Her heart is beating hard, she can hardly hear anything through it’s ringing in her ears, and Nicky can definitely feel it, but it’s not so embarrassing when she realises that the other girl’s heart is beating just as fast. At the same tempo, even, though it might be a bit presumptuous to say as much. She clears her throat a few times, trying to figure out something cool to say. “Uhm, well, how about that stir-fry then?”

Not quite, but close enough, because Nicky’s responding smile feels like a billion dollars.

[slash-em-up]

Marry Your Monsters Pt. 5

A step back. A first meeting.

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

17 Years Prior

This tray of cupcakes was definitely going to fall if Miranda didn’t get over to that table fast enough.

The tall blonde student tried her best to juggle the dozen brightly frosted confections along with her book-bag and was failing miserably.

This had not been a good week.

The semester was nearing its end and for some that meant that all you needed to worry about was your final tests – celebratory parties were already beginning to pop up during all hours of the day in several dorms – but sadly Miranda didn’t have that luxury.

As a pre-law student, Miranda still had her LSATs to worry about, and with the semester winding down for most, the sorority Miranda was treasurer for had decided that one more end-of-year bake-sale would be just the ticket to cement their funding for next fall.  

To Miranda’s annoyance, what brought her to the quad today was neither of those things.

Her elective class in American Sign Language had a final project that was due in a week and she hadn’t even completed the interview she was assigned.  

This was partly because the class wasn’t exactly high on her priority list, and partly because she was truly dreading meeting up with her interviewee.

Several of the deaf and mute students on campus had volunteered to be interviewed by the class to give their introspective on living life with a communication disability. Unfortunately, Miranda had been late to class the day they were assigning partners and had been saddled with Jesse Cromeans.

To say Jesse had a bad reputation on campus would have been an extreme understatement.

He was well known for being a lazy, vain, brutish, man-whore and that was being kind.

Privately, Miranda was pretty sure the only reason he hadn’t been kicked out of university entirely was because his grandfather's name was on every other building and at least one member of his family was on the board of trustees at any given time.

Privileged asshole.

Probably 3\4ths of the way to some pretty painful STDs and dying in a drunken yachting accident.

Arriving at the table, Miranda quickly settled the cupcakes on the surface, adjusting the ones that had shifted around on the tray with a slight jostle. At least that was one less thing for her to worry about.  

Now if only Jesse would get here so she could get this over with.

The meeting time approached.

And passed.

Five minutes late.

Ten minutes late.

Fifteen minutes late.

Miranda sighed in disgust and began to pack up her bag when a large hand entered her peripheral vision and snatched up a green-frosted cupcake.

Another defining characteristic of Jesse Cromeans was that he was tall. Like, really tall. So how he’d managed to move his giant ass all the way across the quad and sneak in close enough to steal a cupcake without Miranda noticing was beyond her understanding.

‘For me? You shouldn’t have.’

Miranda gaped in dumbstruck indignation as the arrogant bastard smirked and took a large bite of the confection while swinging one long leg over the side of his chair.

Her lips pursed.

“You were supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago...”

Jesse continued to chew as he glanced down at his watch. He shrugged.

‘I got tied up.’

That was the last straw. All the stress and anger that had been building for the last week was finally coming to a head.  

And she was about to take it out on Jesse Cromeans ass.

“Jesse, I set up this appointment with you a week ago – if you had something else come up you should have told me earlier! I just wasted most of my morning trying to get here!”

The tall man smirked up at her, signing a quick, insincere ‘Sorry’.

“Oh, fuck off.”

Now it was Jesse’s turn to gape at her; but Miranda was far from done.

“You... arrogant, selfish prick! Just because you have grand-daddy's money to fall back on doesn’t mean you can waltz all over the rest of us! Some of us are here because we actually want to be – not because it’s the closest source of pussy and coke. I could have spent this morning doing actual work! I was so fucking angry when I got stuck with you as a partner because I KNEW you’d pull something like this! Because you. Don’t. Care. If it doesn't benefit you it doesn’t even make it onto your radar. You’re an asshole, and you’re going to die alone.”

Jesse was giving her his full attention; brown eyes serious and locked on her face.

‘Finished?’

Miranda was breathing heavily as she digested the words that had just come out of her own mouth.  

Oh god.

“Jesse, I’m so sorry... I -”

Jesse waved a hand, cutting her off.

‘You’re going to make one hell of a lawyer...’

The comment could have been playful; but the tensing of his shoulders and the flash of hurt in his eyes said it was anything but.

Not knowing what else to do, Miranda murmured another quiet “sorry” at Jesse, not meeting his eyes as she gathered up her bag and retreated back across the quad, not stopping until she was safely back inside her sorority house behind her locked door.

She’d forgotten the cupcakes and several books at the table; but they were the least of her concerns right now.

Feeling lower than low, Miranda slipped into an uneasy slumber.

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

The nap did not help.  

Miranda went through the remainder of her day with a cloud over her head. It wasn’t like her to be unnecessarily cruel – which she absolutely had been. The punishment she’d dished out in no way fit the crime he’d committed.

Even the passive-aggressive comments she’d received from the sorority president about ‘losing’ the cupcakes simply bounced off her shell of melancholy.

How do you apologize to someone when your first real interaction included you telling them they were going to die alone?

Miranda was moping on her bed, looking at but not really absorbing her study material when one of her friends popped her head into the room.

“Hey Randi, this was outside your room. Did you lose a book?”

Standing from the bed, Miranda walked over and took the book from the other girl, eyebrows raising when she saw it was the ASL textbook she’d left on the quad.

“Who brought this back?”

The girl shrugged.

“I don’t know – it was just sitting outside. Maybe Krista saw...”

Miranda flipped open the cover and saw a plain white envelope with her name written on it in neat text.

“Uh, thanks, no worries, I’ll figure it out later...”

She closed the door and sat back on her bed, fingering the paper with a sense of dread.

Well, better to rip it off like a band-aid.

She opened the envelope, eyes widening when a hundred-dollar bill fell out with a small bundle of papers.

The first on the stack was a note from Jesse.

‘Miranda,

I’m sorry I was late for our meeting the other day.  I’ll admit to being a selfish asshole, and you were fully within your rights to call me out on it.  

I found your interview questions in your book and wrote out my answers for them as best I could – I hope you don’t mind, I added a few jokes and quips – no one would believe we actually ‘talked’ if we didn’t add SOME color to my responses.

Also, I ate your cupcakes. Sorry about that. I’m not really sure what the going rate is for charity bake-sale goodies, so I hope the enclosed money will cover it.

I was being serious when I said you’ll be a great lawyer. I hope I never have to see you in court.

Jesse

p.s. I don’t do coke. I haven’t got the fingers to carry off a coke-nail.’

Re-folding the paper, Miranda wasn’t sure whether she wanted to laugh, cry, or get angry at Jesse all over again.

The rest of the packet was the answers to her interview questions that Jesse had promised; but even giving them a cursory read-through, she could already tell she was going to have to edit them heavily. As it turns out, Jesse wasn’t a short-winded guy when you got him going on a topic –and he’d really gone off about what life was like without the ability to speak.  

Miranda was surprised that so many of his answers seemed to be given in complete honesty rather than the infantile jokes and self-aggrandizing she’d expected.

Sure, those were there too – she saw the bit about him being a ‘master debater’ and a ‘cunning linguist’ and rolled her eyes hard enough to give herself a headache – but the parts where he was being forthright were very telling about the person Jesse was behind all the smoke and mirrors.

That was a completely different guy. She thought she might even be able to like him.

Maybe someday they’d run into each other and she could take back her comments in-person.

Only time would tell.

[arcticdementor]

Ok, I'll do my best to try, because reading some of the galaxy brained takes about China and the Chinese government have cemented in my head the agonizing fact that most people prefer simple narratives and have little understanding of history, let alone an understanding of how history affects the present.

This will be long and requires some groundwork on explaining the modern Chinese mindset as a whole. Disclaimer: I am currently in Hong Kong, I hold British citizenship by birth and frequently do business with Chinese companies.

1) Big China and Collective Society.

This is something most people really don't grasp the scale of. To assign shared characteristics to fully one quarter of the human race would be broad enough to make those descriptors basically meaningless. Dividing sections of China along any non-geographical lines, economic lines, socio-political lines, this is all incredibly difficult. Despite a massively homogenous Han Chinese population, just looking at Chinese food culture would tell you just how freakishly diverse and different each section is. There are different dialects, accents, lifestyles all across China. When people say "China" it is often completely unhelpful when it comes to pinning down what they mean. For the sake of this discussion, we're assuming that we're talking about the type of Chinese person that the central government has taken pains to portray to the world. Which is, the middle class, consumerist, worldly and tech-savvy Han Chinese. Native of a Tier 1 city (e.g. Shanghai or Beijing).

Most Chinese people are aware of just how big the country is and how difficult a task it is keeping it all together, on a scale I've seen very few people outside of China appreciate. There is a real ethos of "tianxia", or the concept depicted in the Jet Li movie Hero (criticized for being state propaganda at the time, it was largely missed that most Chinese understand, if not support, this thesis). Chinese see themselves as sharing in a common destiny and collective group ethos. This can be traced back to Confucianism - a young person can have said to have "come of age" when they have fully adapted to and understood their role within a harmonious society. This both gives the common Chinese a shared purpose and skin in the game. They literally feel a stake in the collective power and status of their own country. This is not the flag-waving nationalism that the western nations consider passe, but a belief that China must hold together as a shared country and people.

…

Chinese pride is young, and very damaged. There is a sense of grievance and hurt pride that has never been resolved, and this is occasionally glimpsed in everything from their foreign policy to their mass market serialized literature. The reasons behind this can be traced back to a century of colonialism and rampant opportunism by the world powers during the 19th and 20th centuries. Chinese histories and memories are very long, and despite happening a few centuries ago this is very fresh in people's minds. An old joke about China's view of history has the Chinese waiting to see if the French Revolution is still a good idea. China has never forgotten that despite a massive population and huge amounts of territory it fell from being one of the world's oldest civilizations to becoming the "weak man of Asia", and their modern politics has mostly been about resolving this pride. There is a shared belief, or a hidden form of mass psychosis, that China has been denied its destiny as the foremost world power, either through treachery, the work of foreign powers, or other means. Even worse is the proof that the old rival Japan, a similarly impoverished nation, had managed to drag itself onto the stage of the world powers in the late 19th/early 20th century. This has caused some real complexes in the Chinese psyche.

Adding to this is the understanding of recent history. Coupled with historical understanding that ruling China is an incredibly difficult job and only people like the legendary Emperor Qin were able to unify the country in the first place, China collectively remembers the much more recent history of the Communist revolution, the Great Famine, the Cultural Revolution, and more. The fact that China's current financial power and global status is largely a result of Deng Xiaoping's market reforms and liberalism is besides the point - the defining thing that most Chinese in the older generation take away is that revolution led to some truly fucking heinous shit and a death toll enacted on its population greater than any ever seen in the history of mankind, and as a result they have no taste for another revolution. The government stays in power largely because the older generation are aware of just how much death is involved with a changing of the guard. There is also no promise that whatever comes to replace the government will be in any way better than what came before it. Sure, the kuomintang government were corrupt as sin, but was that really preferable to having everyone starve because nobody knew how to farm land for years?

…

It is no surprise that the most radical nationalist pro-Chinese are the young students sent overseas to study in western universities. The Chinese attitude towards these western academies is not great; they attend for credentials and status, but these places of study have become cultural battlegrounds and ground zero for showing Chinese students that the Western societies and arguments are fractured and impotent. Students are given courses and humanities curriculum that demonize western civilization and its achievements, and emphasize the breaking down of existing power structures. Of course this would lead to nationalist students violently attacking pro-Hong Kong protesters and demonstrations, as both sides consider each other indoctrinated suckers (and one sees the other as trying to destroy the power structure of the country). An attack on China and Chinese identity is both a dangerous attack on national and societal cohesion and stinging Chinese pride. They have been handed something that can be easily interpreted as an attempt by foreign powers to fracture the unity of Chinese society, cause chaos in their country, and stop China from achieving its destiny of world #1 power and subjugator of other nations.

…

Many people have asked me why Chinese people put up with their government being totalitarian, so many human rights abuses, this and that. Social credit system, organ harvesting. No end of horrible things we hear about Chinese government. The corruption. The dark things the CCP has done to consolidate its power. Tiananmen.

Well, the unfortunate answer is that China, as a collectivized group, wants to fuck over people who looked down on them, even if it means causing itself grievous injuries in the process. It's painful to admit, but the regular Chinese is perfectly okay with the Uighur death camps, even if the government goes to some length to pretend they don't exist. After all, surely they must be doing something to destabilize and weaken Chinese society if the government is putting them in death camps. Don't you know Uighurs can be unpredictable, barbaric, and violent? And if Chinese society is destabilized and weak, the Chinese people won't achieve our common destiny of being the #1 world power.

Chinese people don't care that there is anti-Chinese sentiment internationally. In fact, it even helps. It plays into the narrative that people hate China now because China is strong.

Privately, Chinese people will celebrate the NBA and Blizzard backing down in fear, because they equate this with power and respect. It is perfectly natural for the NBA to apologize for offending the Chinese government, because this is a display of strength. How will you be able to tell that you are stronger than someone, if they are not underneath your boot heel?

…

China has gone from largely a nation of rice farmers to modern state with terrifying speed. They are now the world leader in 5G communications technology, technological integration into daily life, the world's biggest consumer market. By every single metric, logistics, travel, entertainment, living standards, Chinese life has gotten better. And they are completely aware of this. Twenty years. Thirty years?

…

So there is an unspoken pact between the government and the people. In exchange for getting rich, the people have willingly given up their freedoms. Because you can't eat freedom. Many of the social problems in China are rooted in this short-term manner of business thinking; tomorrow, there may be trouble. Maybe the country would be in trouble. I'll never see this customer or client again. Why bother maintaining anything? If I can get a benefit out of cheating, why wouldn't I do it?

Chinese, especially the older generation, understand existential failure on a level the western nations don't. They don't take anything for granted, including the attitude of the government (and this has in fact driven a lot of asset flow out of China into other nations). They remember the Cultural Revolution, the societal madness that took hold when roving gangs of diehard Communists went around lynching people who wore glasses or owned books. They understand that the possibility of that shit happening again, or coming for them, is non-zero. So the attitude is to use every trick in the book to make sure that they come out on top.

…

There is a recurring belief from Americans that most Chinese are brainwashed by their authoritarian government, and if they only understood democracy, knew about the atrocities of the CCP, or were exposed to the taste of an All-American cheeseburger, there would be a great awakening and China would truly "become free". While certain elements of brainwashing and information control are most certainly true, there is a certain level of arrogance in this method of thinking.

For one, this viewpoint has completely ignored the possibility that China already knows exactly how cheeseburgers taste, all about the atrocities of its own government, and about democracy.

…

China's political and social state project has openly stated its intent to utilize and take advantage of what worked before, while adapting it to fit their own situation. Throwing away what doesn't work, surgically excising elements they consider dangerous or don't like. 'Socialism with Chinese characteristics'. 'China Dream'. These are adapted policies, methods, and ideals, refocused through the lens of the Party. Yes, they are stealing. They are also adapting.

Any good propagandist will tell you that the ideological battle is the first battle that must be won, and on this note America has failed utterly at defending democracy and personal freedom. This is not by Chinese design; rather, a combination of factors including financial inequality, changing demographics, chaotic governance, political point-scoring and media clickbait have done their best to demonstrate that American government is both unstable and spectacularly inept, and no longer believes in the values set down in the Declaration of Independence. America has considered the argument for democracy so thoroughly won that it has forgotten to defend it, or even the value of it. Into this void steps the Chinese government.

…

It is impossible not to watch. The US is the world's only really global power, and the current measuring stick by which all global powers are compared against. China wants what the US has, but is going to attempt to do so without the mistakes the Americans have made. After all, American empire is ending, or so everyone says. The bars are equalizing. America was a leader in space travel, so China will become a leader in space travel. America was a leader in world culture and entertainment, so China will become a leader in world culture and entertainment. America has a strong military, so China will have a strong military.

…

To leave with one last note, in the online kerfluffle surrounding Hong Kong's current situation, Chinese netizens think it's fair play to "support 9-11" and advocate for California seceding from the United States, as payback for a mistaken belief that the fight in Hong Kong is over independence. When confronted with the fact that edgy teenagers in America have been making 9-11 jokes barely a week after the tragedy and a non-zero amount of non-Californians in the US would also prefer it if California sunk into the ocean, they are legitimately surprised. The idea that this kind of independence would be preferred by both parties is almost completely alien to the Chinese, who wonder and are surprised at the fact that Americans apparently wish their country to be weaker.

[matlabhwexperts-blog]

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[ariannjs]

COFFEE SHOP | A SasuSaku FanFic (2/2)

For Day 12 (Gravitation) of SasuSaku Month 2019☕

Rating: K+

Summary: Sakura chuckled and enveloped Sasuke in an embrace. "In the end, it's still you and me." "Hn. And it all started in this place."

-----

(Coffee Shop - Part 1/2)

-----

"So that's how you met mama?" There was an adorable twinkle in the eyes of the raven-haired girl in front of Sasuke.

Moments earlier, little Sarada complained about the tons of assignments she took home from the academy. It's not that she couldn't manage to finish them, it's just that she found the repetitive equations too boring to spend much time with. So, she ended up pestering her dad to tell her any story that he or Sakura liked so much.

Sasuke's lips twitched upwards as he gave his daughter a nod to answer her question.

Sarada leaned towards him on the table that used to be his haven while waiting for his mom to finish her café managing job when he was younger. "That's so cool! Did you marry mom the next day?"

Sasuke released a chuckle. "I wish. But it doesn't work that way, Sarada. There were lots of highs and lows, and we needed to grow up before that."

His daughter blinked twice while she parsed the information she received, her interest not dying down a bit. "Oh. Then..." She pouted, with a hand on her chin as she stared at a distance – a pose that reminded Sasuke of Sakura whenever she's thinking deeply, causing him to smile. "Then, Papa! Would I be able to marry my crush too?"

All the muscles on Sasuke's face tensed. Sure, he and Sakura met and felt a connection with each other at the same age as Sarada's now, but if he would be completely honest, he wasn’t ready to let his baby girl go any time soon. And it might be unavoidable for him to develop a slight fury to any guy who might steal his heiress's heart from him and Sakura one day.

"You have a crush." Sasuke's voice came out in a tone that's mixed with both question and accusation.

With widened eyes and burning cheeks, Sarada waved her hands in front of her in quick dismissal. "No, no! It's not that! All the boys in school are annoying! I only mean that if I would have one." She scratched the back of her head. "Also, you and mama would surely know when the time comes!" She grinned until she saw her dad's face relax.

"Good."

"You're overprotective, Papa!" She giggled, earning an eye roll from Sasuke.

"Tch. Of course, I don't want my little girl to be taken away by any undeserving guy." He reached out and tapped Sarada's forehead with his two fingers.

Although Sarada was quite accustomed to the affectionate gesture already, she still couldn't help but jerk a little.

"Meanwhile, to answer your question, it doesn't always happen that way. But who knows, you might be able to marry your future crush too, when you don't find the need to rush." There was a slight emphasis to the word "future" that made Sarada flinch. "But for now, just wait for the Author of love Himself to write your own love story, okay?" Sasuke smiled.

Sarada beamed back and nodded at this.

"Now back to your homework." He stood up and patted his daughter's head before leaving her to check up on his wife who was busying herself with the coffee shop's inventory for the day.

He found Sakura seated on one of the bar stools on the other side of the renovated café, scribbling with eyebrows furrowed on the directory and notebooks sprawled in front of her on the high table.

He snickered at the sight. Despite having medical duties on her own clinic by day, she still takes time in doing what she can for the coffee shop business that was passed on to them by Sasuke's parents – Mikoto and Fugaku Uchiha. Sakura told him once that for her, it was the least she could do to support his career as a thriving businessman despite her being inclined to a different field, knowing that Sasuke already has several businesses that he was overseeing.

Plus, it was the coffee shop where they first met, so when she decided to personally oversee at least one of their many businesses, the cafè was her first and immediate choice.

It was heartwarming for Sasuke to see how dedicated his wife was in keeping up with the reputation of his family, not that she didn’t have a topflight repute of her own in terms of medical studies, but her character and dedication were some of the many confirmations to Sasuke that Sakura was definitely meant to be an Uchiha. Having her as his wife was probably the best dream that he has ever achieved for himself.

Sasuke paced across the room and decided to approach her from behind. Slipping his arms around her waist, he peered over her shoulder to check on what she was doing. "Are you almost done?"

Slightly startled with her husband's touch, she responded, "Yeah. Just a few more items and we could go home." She smiled as she met Sasuke's gaze. "How's Sarada?"

"Well, she was easily bored again today, pretty much a lot like me." He snorted. "But she said it was only because her math homeworks were too plain for her, so much like you in that manner. Tch."

Sakura smirked. "We've made a pretty smart child, haven't we?"

Sasuke nodded with a smile. They've always been proud of how advanced Sarada's cognitive skills were for her age. And as she grows older, the distinguished characteristics she has acquired from either of her parents are slowly manifesting in her deeds and speech. It's a little funny for them sometimes that they got to see an image of their younger selves in Sarada.

Sasuke then planted a kiss on Sakura's shoulder blade. "Meanwhile, to kill her boredom, I told her about how we met."

"Oh, yeah?" Sakura suddenly cackled. "So you finally got to tell her about how you used to have a short-lived crush on nee-chan?"

Groaning, Sasuke tightened his embrace on her waist and buried his face in her hair. "Well, if I didn't notice Sasuna-nee back then, and if Hisuke-nii didn't fetch you from school and bring you here, I most likely wouldn't even get the chance of being introduced to you." He smirked as Sakura continued to laugh. "I'll always be grateful to them, that's for sure."

Sakura slightly pulled away to turn on her seat and now face Sasuke. "It's funny how our lives changed since then, don't you think? It's how we got to know that Someone was really orchestrating every single thing in the world to fall into place." She said, beaming from ear to ear while gently placing her arms around Sasuke's neck. "That day, I felt so sure, that you were made for me, and I for you."

"Hn." Sasuke had felt the exact same way, and he couldn't help but capture her lips with his as an agreement to her words. It was quick but sweet, making Sakura giggle in delight.

"But, do you remember how difficult our college years had been?"

Her husband's face went blank. "I don't even want to remember."

"Right." Sakura frowned as she relived the pain of those years without Sasuke.

It was a mutual decision. Growing up together, it was as if they were practically glued to each other that when you try to pull one of them away, the other would be inevitably wrecked, too.

It became almost too unhealthy how they depended on each other to the point of being too consumed in their own world. That's why when it was time for them to take different paths towards the courses they wanted to pursue, they knew they had to end their two-year relationship that bloomed during their Senior High School years (when Sasuke finally had the guts to tell Sakura that what he had for her was more than a mere childhood crush).

It wasn't just about the long distance caused by their different universities, nor the hectic schedules of their business and medical classes alongside various extracurricular activities, but it was about learning to let go that they may individually grow.

When their parents learned about it, they were surprised, but they agreed that it was indeed a wise idea.

Itachi thought it was so courageous of them that he viewed them with so much admiration ever since, because he saw how his brother stood firm with his decision although it was apparently not easy for him.

Sasuna felt heartbroken, thinking about how she wouldn't be able to take it if it was her who had to break up with Hisuke just so they could focus on their individual pursuits.

Nonetheless, both their families trusted them that they were already mature enough to deal with matters of the heart, even though it involved pain.

It was Sasuna who first witnessed the positive effects of the harrowing decision to her younger sister. Entering college made Sakura leave the clingy and hopeless romantic teenager behind. She grew up to be more confident in her own skin, even though she was alone and she didn’t have the arm of a raven-haired guy constantly linked with hers. Her track record was a testament that she has made a name for herself in her chosen field, healing patients from various pains as her own heart slowly got healed.

Itachi had shared great reports about his younger brother too. During a batch reunion alongside their spouses and other batch mates in the academy, Itachi and Sasuna made sure to have a catch up about their siblings who had decided to cut off their communication with each other. Itachi proudly mentioned that despite being away from home, Sasuke grew up to be a very responsible man, worthy enough to take ownership of their companies even at such a young age. He also became more focused than ever, compared to that sulky and lovesick teen that was damned crazy about "keeping pests away" from his pink-haired childhood sweetheart.

Years later, their college graduations marked not only their professional milestones, but also their personal growth. And their families couldn't be any prouder.

For Sasuke, hearing about Sakura being hailed as one of the best rising doctors of their generation made him glad that they stuck with their decision. It was so apparent how Sakura had grown on her own, without him getting in the way as a distraction in pursuing the difficult career she chose. Though he was miles away, he had always hoped all the best for Sakura, even if it might not include him.

There was a part of Sakura that wished she was with Sasuke while he was slowly achieving his goals, but she knew that in one way or another, it would be difficult for him to focus with her around, just like when they were kids. And even though it was still a struggle for Sakura to stop longing for Sasuke, she found peace in believing that her Creator would not withold the best from her heart; hence, she continued to focus on her career and wait for love to come at its proper time. After all, she has always desired for Sasuke to be happy, even if his happiness wouldn't involve her.

But just when they thought they already had everything, they knew, somewhere at the back of their minds, that something was still missing.

"Doctor Haruno!" A nurse suddenly approached Sakura's office with a panic-stricken face. "You are needed at the emergency room. Someone came in complaining about an intense chest pain."

"Oh? Okay then." She proceeded out of her office after the announcement, though she wondered why she had to attend to the ER when she wasn’t even assigned there. Brushing the thoughts aside, she rushed to the emergency room because she knew how chest pains could lead to a more complicated situation for the patient.

She gasped at the sight after pulling the green curtain sideways. Because there, seated on the hospital bed, was no other than the man she has painfully yet bravely decided to let go of years ago. "Sasuke...kun."

Sasuke, on the other hand, simply gave her a blank yet meaningful stare, as if scrutinizing every single thing about her and taking in all the changes in her after how many years of not seeing each other.

But Sakura didn't let the previous astonishment get in the way of what she was really there for. When she came back to her professional senses, she immediately prepared to wear a stethoscope and paced towards her patient. She then asked, "What happened?"

There was, however, a long pause. And Sakura felt as if her galloping heart would explode the longer she heard the constant ticking of the clock behind her. "I need to know what happened so I could give y–"

"I realized I'm still in love with you, that's what happened."

She was frozen right then and there, with her stethoscope just a few inches away from Sasuke's supposed painful chest. Hesitating, she put her hand down and met his intent gaze. "W-what..."

Sasuke's eyes softened at the sight of the emerald orbs that he missed. He knew what he was there for, and he wasn’t gonna beat around the bush before anyone decides to call him again for a business meeting or what.

He cleared his throat, reaching out to gently grasp his doctor's hand. "This time, I hope the time is right. Sakura, would you allow me to court you again but with the intention of marrying you?"

With that, Sakura's pent-up tears for the past few years suddenly came rushing down her cheeks. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. But she knew those onyx eyes very well, and with the way they were staring back at her right now, she knew that there was no hint of lie in there.

Slowly, her lips formed a smile as she gave him a nod that made him smile back. "This time, I'm not letting you go."

And that was the beginning of their journey towards the now.

"It had to happen though. Or else we wouldn't be the man and woman that we are right now," Sakura acknowledged, still facing her husband in their dimly lit coffee shop. "There was no single day that I didn't miss you, Sasuke-kun. You remained my inspiration. I thought that as long as you're doing your best somewhere else, I ought to do my best wherever I was too."

The corner of Sasuke's lips twitched upwards. "And I never stopped loving you." He then lifted two fingers to lightly tap the pale forehead of his wife, a gesture Sakura knows all too well. "Even though I was successfully able to repress the emotion for so long, at the end of that long season, it still resurfaced above all the other things I preoccupied my mind with."

Sakura chuckled and enveloped Sasuke in an embrace. "In the end, it's still you and me."

"Hn. And it all started in this place."

"Papa! Mama!"

The couple's attention was suddenly caught by their little girl as she ran towards them with her hands seemingly clutching something behind her.

"Hey, Sarada!" Sakura stepped off the bar stool and leaned down to Sarada's level with Sasuke following suit. "Are your homeworks done?"

Sarada nodded as she smiled sheepishly at her parents. "I've just finished my gift."

Her father arched an eyebrow in wonder. "Gift?"

"Here! Happy Anniversary, Mama and Papa!" Sarada exclaimed happily as she held out her hand, revealing a paper with a drawing that was far better than her old sketches of stick people.

Her mother beamed as she received the said gift. "Aww! Thank you, dear! This is so nice!" She affirmed while scanning Sarada's drawing of their family.

Sasuke did the same beside Sakura and slowly smiled at their daughter. "Thank you, Sarada. It's beautiful."

The youngest Uchiha grinned in delight. She was glad that her parents liked her surprise gift. She almost thought she wouldn't be able to finish it within the day since her Papa was with her a while ago. "You're welcome!"

"Hmm. Why is there a fourth figure here though?" Sakura asked her daughter as her eyes trailed over the figure of a little boy with black hair and green eyes beside Sarada in the drawing.

Sarada bit her lip as her parents stared at her. Scratching the back of her head, she answered, "I...I was thinking that...maybe...Papa can give you a...younger brother as a gift?"

With that, Sasuke suddenly looked away while seemingly choking on his own spit.

Then, Sakura went home alongside her husband and daughter with a drawing in hand and a very red face after that.

————

© December 2018 AriannJS

————

Thanks for reading! As always, I’d love to know your feedback! Check out my other SasuSaku fics here! :)

Like what I do? Please consider supporting me on ko-fi as I continue to write fictions and make song covers! A cup of coffee would be a big encouragement! :)

- A

[lysgaardreimer40-blog]

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[cooperhewitt]

Hokinson

Helen Hokinson, or “Hoky” as her friends called her, contributed nearly 1,800 cartoons and vignettes and 68 cover designs to The New Yorker. Her long-lasting association with the magazine began just a few months after the magazine launched, when a drawing of a round, middle-aged woman standing on the edge of a dock and enthusiastically waving good-bye to a departing ship was published in the July 4, 1925 issue. She had moved to NYC from Chicago in 1920 to pursue a career as a fashion illustrator and completed work for Lord and Taylor, B. Altman and Company, and John Wanamaker. She had also explored her comedic side in a short-lived comic strip that she created with her friend Alice Harvey titled “Sylvia in the Great City” for the New York Daily Mirror. While studying at the School of Fine and Applied Arts (now Parsons), Hokinson’s instructor Howard Giles was shown her drawing of the waving woman and responded with laughter, encouraging her to try submitting such pictures to magazines that featured cartoons.

Hokinson took an anthropological approach to her assignments for The New Yorker, investigating various locations and events in New York City and recording what she observed. Initially her drawings appeared in The New Yorker without captions, but eventually editors started captioning her drawings and making suggestions for situations to draw. In 1931 she met James Reid Parker, a writer for the magazine, and they began a collaboration that lasted for the next eighteen years. Parker convinced Hokinson to focus her efforts on suburban, upper middle class women, and the “Hokinson Woman” was born. This type of woman spent her hours shopping, gardening, and attending club meetings, theatrical performances, flower shows, and pet shows. She was very concerned about club work and civic duties, unafraid of trying new things or being laughed at, and perplexed at times by modern life. Hokinson Women could also be recognized by their distinctive plumpness, perky noses, and tiny feet.

This drawing, published in the November 21, 1936 issue of The New Yorker, features a typical Hokinson Woman seated on a large chair in the middle of a bookshop, asking an attendant, “Haven’t you got a thin best-seller?” The attendant is holding a copy of Margaret Mitchell’s Gone with the Wind, published in 1936. Working with gray wash and an energetic, fluid line, Hokinson portrays the seated woman with the earnestness and fearless sincerity that is characteristic of all Hokinson Women.

Although Hokinson drew attention to her women’s imperfections, she always portrayed them with affection and compassion. While attempting to write a play with Nancy Hamilton, an author of Broadway comedy hits, her reluctance to have her characters laughed at prevented the project from coming to fruition. Hamilton wanted to add dramatic conflict to the play by making one or two of the women catty, and Hokinson cried, “But my women are honest, they’re good, they’re well-meaning!” Although Hokinson was self-effacing and shy, she began to feel as though people were laughing at her women rather than with them and undertook a public appearance crusade to help explain her work and defend the women from being unfairly ridiculed. While en route to one appearance at the opening of a Community Chest Drive in DC, she died in a tragic plane crash. Although her death was a great loss for New Yorker readers everywhere, her legacy lives on, continually inspiring us with her gentle, affectionate sense of humor and enthusiasm for documenting urban life and interpreting the social scene.

  [1] Dale Kramer, “Those Hokinson Women,” The Saturday Evening Post, April 7, 1951, 25.

Carey Gibbons is the Cataloguer in the Drawings, Prints & Graphic Design Department at Cooper Hewitt, Smithsonian Design Museum.

from Cooper Hewitt, Smithsonian Design Museum https://ift.tt/2H82QAs via IFTTT

[mari-matsu]

Shelter Chapter 1

        “S-stand,” Nagisa’s less than commanding voice stuttered in the room and you nimbly got up to your feet. Handling the gun in your hands with little effort, you observed as the others similarly shot up from their seats with their own weapon aimed at the teacher. 

        “Attention,” A curt silence enveloped the room and you took the time to analyze each and everyone’s serious expression that was etched on their faces. Calmly, you rolled your eyes to the direction of the teacher. His elated grin hadn't faltered at the sight of all the artillery.

        “Bow!” At the word, a barrage of pink bullets rained down on him. Little pellets of Anti-Teacher bounced harmlessly off the board as he dodged in a speed that was classified as Mach 20, a speed no human will ever be able to reach. But for this teacher, it was a breeze, easily creating three afterimages that had left all of you speechless on his first day here. Because, after all, he wasn't even human.

        You and your new class had the great privilege to be taught by a super being, an incredibly fast, amazingly powerful, and highly intelligent... octopus. That's right. A bright yellow, depending on his mood, octopus with slithering tentacles and an actually friendly grin. He was introduced by the Government Military Defense as a criminal capable of destroying the Earth. The evidence: This teacher was responsible for the damage made to the moon, which was now a permanent crescent.

        A few months prior to this day, all of the inhabitants of Earth witnessed an explosion that sent chills down everyone's spines. The moon had shattered. Pieces of the satellite had rained down on the lakes, oceans, and land, and there was a moment of pure panic, fear, and curiosity. What just happened? No one knew the answer and people wondered for weeks as to what occurred. Why did the moon break like that? What was the cause of it? Was it a natural occurrence... or was it an effect of something man made?

        The answer came to a select group of people. On the day you came back to school to start a new grade, you and your classmates were met with a surprise. The Military had dropped by to give everyone in your class an assignment: To assassinate your new teacher.  To be quite honest, your classmates were surprised to hear that news but the shock deepened when the Military introduced the target. It was immediately a mind boggling first day, because how on Earth were junior high students supposed to kill something like that? Everyone was so perplexed at the idea, but was easily compelled by the reward money that came with the success of the octopus' death. So your classmates got use to the odd setting, and quickly became accustomed to a gun and a knife.

        An assassination attempt was always done daily.

        “Good morning,” Your non-human teacher called out, his wide smile never leaving his face, “I’ll be taking attendance now, so please, fire all you like.” The teacher you’ve come to known then began roll call as your classmates answered, reloaded, and animatedly fired at the man.

        You, in the back, waited patiently for your name to be called as your finger rested lightly on the trigger. The specially designed AK-47 was leaning on your shoulder, and a stack of Anti-Teacher ammo sat unused behind your desk, collecting dust since you first received it. You were just waiting as others unloaded multiple clips on your teacher, waiting without participating a bit in this deadly activity.

        “(Y/N)-san?” At the mention of your name, you melodiously announced your presence. Your teacher's blurry image seemed to incline closer as he waved a shaking tentacle to his ear, a motion for you to speak louder. “I’m sorry, could you say that again? Like I said before, I can’t hear anything with all this gunfire.” You raised your tone and responded with yet another chipper sound and the grin reappeared on his circular face. He continued down the line as others grunted in response and frustration, and before you knew it, every name was called.  “Alright then! Everyone’s on time, I see. Excellent that makes me very happy.” He said just as the guns stopped firing. As if to clarify how happy he was, his bright yellow face shifted to a scarlet one.

        Blinking rather evenly at the color shift, you watched your classmates catch their breath, exhausted. “He’s too fast,” You heard one of your classmate and friend, Rio Nakamura, complain. Her long blonde hair swayed to the side as she slumped in her seat, defeated.

        Isogai, the male class representative and another friend, then noted, “So even the whole class at once can’t bring him down?” His golden eyes were always kind; however, today it was slightly dim as he heaved a sigh. "It feels like we're getting nowhere again." He commented but he wore a gentle smile.

        “Too bad, huh, not one of your bullets hit me today either.” The teacher emphasized and he then went on explaining about the little things that counted in assassination. This was the norm. A lecture in English, History, as well as the art of assassination. These were lessons that only your class was privileged to have, and you actively took in every word. It is, after all, something you must study on. “In addition to those, (Y/N)-san,” You automatically hummed at the abrupt call and you raised an inquiring eyebrow. As if he was offended, the teacher whined, “You didn’t even bother shooting me! You answered to the roll call, but you didn’t even use your gun! Are you not motivated enough to kill me?”

        Your irises observed this alien-like creature you’ve recently formed a student and teacher relationship with and you smiled apologetically, quite aware of how he was pouting. With a small wave of your gun you said, “Sensei, I don’t particularly want to try to harm you. You didn’t do anything to anger me so I got no reason to.”

        Your classmates heaved a semi-amused and semi-knowing breath while they sat back in their seats. You’ve been through this conversation with your teacher time and time again, so they’re not at all miffed about your answer. But the octopus still appeared to be thoroughly bothered as he continued to pout and squish his tentacles together, similar to how a shy girl would with her fingers.

        “Not even the reward is going to persuade you?” Nagisa asked with his reserved nature, although, he himself knew the answer to that already, having heard it before. 

        “Nope,” You replied back to your best friend for years while popping the p. Not even the thought of ten billion yen being yours persuaded you to attack. Even though your teacher was one weird guy, you just didn’t have it in you to attack someone who did nothing wrong to you. Yes he did blow up the moon, and yes he was threatening Earth, but above all that he has done nothing but treat you as a student. So you will treat him as a teacher with respect and courtesy. Making use of the gun in your hands doesn’t come to you as courteous, so you refrain from it.

        The yellow teacher huffed in mild disbelief at your response before waving a tentacle to your direction. “One day, you will succumb to the reward and help your classmates in killing me.” You merely nodded to appease his apparently hurt pride before taking a seat, your desk at the back beside an empty one, as you set the gun to its rightful spot on the side.

        You then smiled pleasantly at particularly nothing while waiting for the math lecture to start. If you haven't guessed it already, you didn’t want to join this assassination job. You were here for one reason only, and that’s to shelter the people you care about. Nothing else matters, not even the fact you were in the End Class, the lowest ranking class in your school. Or that the government had put a bunch of teens to assassinate this top secret being.

        None of them mattered to you. You just wanted to protect.

        “(Y/N)-chan, you want to have lunch with us?” Shooting straight up, your once dazed eyes perked up and you amiably shot out of your seat. With the brightest smile you can ever make, you nodded happily to Kayano's question before grabbing your own lunch. 

        “Of course!” You cheered momentarily before zipping straight for your green-haired friend who only smiled as she spread out her own meal. The octopus teacher had already bid farewell as he quickly used his speed to get some mapo tofu. So the rest of your fellow classmates were spread around in their own groups, talking. You were previously just staring off into space, lost at a random thought before the prospect of food had you jumping in joy. It was no surprise to Kayano that you were so ecstatic for this. Food was something you put at the top of your priorities, second of course to protecting others.

        “Wow, I didn’t know (Y/N) loved food a lot.” Hiroto Maehara commented, eyeing the group of girls you were in as you all huddled on one side laughing and chatting pleasantly. Tomohito Sugino hummed in agreement as he munched on some bread. The two were classmates you recently got acquainted with so they barely knew you, but you already counted them as people you care about. Nagisa was close with them, so you took it upon yourself to become their friends, which you didn’t regret. Maehara and Sugino were both super kind to you.

        “I didn’t really peg her to eat so much. Just look at her,” Sugino remarked from a seat as you wolfed down a sandwich. “Where does she put all that food?” He laughed, the question rhetorically said as Maehara, who leaned on a desk, smiled along.

        “Don’t you know? She puts them in her breasts!” Okajima, who was once busy off to the side watching said group of girls, popped in between the two of them with a rather perverted smile. He just couldn’t help himself if there was a mentioning of girls. Both Maehara and Sugino knew that characteristic of his, but they still paused in their chewing to give him a pointed look. Unlike the class pervert, they weren’t … well, a pervert. “What? The two of you were thinking it.” He noted and was only greeted by a shake of their heads.

        “Only you,” The two chimed and Okajima huffed in defense. “Well, it doesn’t matter where she puts it, (Y/N)’s really pretty no matter what.” Maehara said through a mouthful of food and Okajima’s eyes lit up, already excited and prepared to list all your great physical qualities.

        But Sugino said something before the other could surprisingly open his mouth, “Do you really think so?” His expression scrunched to a pondering one as he tilted his head to the side, gazing at you with wondering eyes. You had qualities that were very attractive to the male, but Sugino couldn't find the bravery to agree.

        Maehara seemed to have an abundance of that courage as he went on with, “Yeah, she’s seriously cute. Plus she’s super smart.”  He bit into his lunch. “I wouldn’t mind dating her if she wasn’t my friend.” Sugino coughed at the sudden statement and Okajima nodded, completely agreeing with the playboy. “What?” Maehara questioned when Sugino shot him a befuddled look, quite taken aback at the honesty.

        “Nothing,” Sugino then munched on his bread a little more before he blinked, suddenly reminded of a thought. “Do you guys know why (Y/N) is here in the first place? If she’s super smart, how’d she land herself here?” A silent and thoughtful atmosphere enveloped the three as they thought about the question. Why are you in E-class, the lowest out of the whole school?

        At such a perfect moment, Nagisa came strolling by and immediately the three of them flagged him down. Surprised, the bluenette flashed them an inquiring look while his upper arm was gripped. “Sorry for that,” Okajima apologized, and he darted his eyes to you for a quick look before saying, "We want to know, Nagisa. How come (Y/N) is here in E-class?"

           "We figured you'll know the answer since you and (Y/N) are close. Childhood friends, right?" Maehara explained further, and Nagisa confirmed the relationship between you and him with a nod. The brunet then gestured for him to spill the beans. "So what's the deal with her being here?"

        "If it's not too much to ask," Sugino added politely.  

        At that, Nagisa peeked a glance over his shoulder to you. He's sincerely surprised that they weren't knowledgeable of why you were transferred to this class. Everyone in A though D classes were still talking about it this morning even though the event transpired months ago. Thinking back to the moment where things changed for you, Nagisa sighed before mumbling out, “(Y/N)-chan’s here because she defended Kayano and I from rude students before the principal intervened. She said that we’ll remain friends even if others had shunned us. In the end she got demoted after being falsely accused of attacking another student…”

        Okajima and Sugino gaped in disbelief while a low whistle sounded from Maehara. They couldn’t quite believe that you, who smiled at practically anything, could be capable of doing something that was considered taboo in their school. It came to the three as quite a shocker.

        “Maehara, here’s your drink.” Yuma Isogai saddled up to the growing group with his ever kind smile. But it faltered a bit when he glanced at everyone’s awestruck faces. Turning to the only one who wasn’t shocked, he asked Nagisa, “What happened?” Nagisa relayed the information to him and the male only nodded, already aware of what you done. However, he did say, “That was pretty cruel. She technically didn’t do anything wrong yet she was put down here. It must’ve been heartbreaking for her since she was a top student...”

        Nagisa nodded absentmindedly, although a bit glumly. “Actually (Y/N)-chan was fine with it. She didn’t care so long as she was with me and Kayano…” Nagisa wouldn’t say it out loud, but he was actually guilty that you sacrificed yourself to defend them. If he had just left school fast enough, then you wouldn’t be down in E-class with him. Even if you yourself had told him that it wasn’t a problem to you, the male still felt that responsibility.

        At his words, four pairs of irises latched on you again. You were just peacefully laughing about a story Hinano, the bubbly orange-haired girl, had in regards to bug catching. You were smiling, and exuding such a delighted aura that it was hard for the four to connect that side to a more serious one, one who wouldn’t hesitate to fight anyone who dares insult those you loved. 

        “Aw, shoot.” You hissed as the carton of strawberry milk you were chugging down opened up at the bottom. A splash of pink coated the lower parts of your shirt and you hastily stood up out of instinct. Grimacing, you narrowed eyes at the carton before crumpling it in your hands. “Well there goes a good drink.”

        Kayano and the other girls hopped to their feet in alarm before handing you a bunch of tissues, in which you politely declined, although you were grateful for their kindness. “Are you sure?” Rio questioned as she eyed the stain clearly there. You smiled softly at her and the others.

        “I'm good. I got something I can change into, but thanks for the help anyways. Let me just clean this up” At your words, you shuffled to mop up the milk while your friends assisted you in your clean up. After the deed was done, you grabbed your school bag and then promptly exited the classroom with a small wave. The girls waved back before resuming lunch again, talking to pass the time until you come back.

        The five males still grouped together watched the exchange. Nagisa was staring worriedly at the door as if debating on whether or not to follow you and offer any assistance. The others amusingly smiled, finding you to be quite a nice character. Okajima... grinned without shame as he lecherously said, "(Y/N)-chan's changing... Maybe I should go and-."

        "Not a chance." The immediate response that came from Nagisa, Maehara, Sugino, and Isogai prompted a small laughter as Okajima frowned, his fantasies ruined. "Well anyways, did you guys know that there's a sale going on at-?"

        “Oi, Nagisa.” The trio of misfits, Muramatsu, Yoshida, and Terasaka, approached the group with mischievous smirks, effectively cutting off Isogai. The one who spoke, Terasaka, jabbed a thumb behind him as his smirk turned into something more sinister. “Come with us. It’s time to put our assassination plan into action.” The actions and words of Terasaka caused an unsettling feeling to take over the friendly group and they worriedly glanced towards Nagisa. 

        Said male pursed his lips before ultimately sighing. "I'll be back." He assured before leaving the classroom with the trio. 

        “That’s better.” You breathed out while lifting the bottom of your pristine and totally fresh shirt. The soiled one was tucked away in your bag after you so carefully dabbed at the stain with a handful of tissues. It really was good thing that you carried around an extra shirt. You never really did before this year, but then again you never had to climb and descend a mountain during the school day. In addition, you never had to avoid the higher class' attempts to ridicule you. Luckily, you were more than capable in handling a hike and a couple of troublemakers. 

        Smiling at your clean state, you shouldered your bag, glanced at the mirror to fix the collar of your shirt, before skipping out to the hallway. You’ve been gone for long time and that surely meant lunch was over, but you didn’t particularly mind since you finished your food anyway. Oh but then again, that also meant that fifth period had started.

        You wiped the smile off your face as your skip turned into a rather brisk walk at the sudden notion. You were late for class. Hurrying to the end of the hallway, you didn’t waste any time as you flung the door wide open, an apology ready to be said. “Sorry I was late, I got-.”

        A flash cut you off short and your eyes widened at the dust sifting through the air. You wondered vaguely if someone had set off a bomb, but you quickly processed the fact that Nagisa conducted an assassination attempt. A seemingly failed one however, for the yellow octopoid, your teacher, had grasped his wrist before Nagisa managed to actually nail the Anti-Teacher blade on him. It caught you by a huge surprise to see Nagisa, someone who was very quiet, initiate an assassination attempt by himself, and you couldn't help but feel on edge at the uncharacteristic way he was behaving.

        “Didn’t I tell you to be more inventive?” The teacher chastised, yet you heard him in the distance as your heart suddenly pounded against your rib cage. It was out of the blue but something was deeply nagging at you, tugging at your mind, and telling you to do something. But what?

        You saw quite clearly how the teacher pulled out a handkerchief, and while you watched his movements, the world slowed down around you. You then realized that the tug in your mind was a warning that there’s danger. It grew heavy with every passing second and your heartbeat thudded in your ears. You can hear your blood rushing as adrenaline quickly flowed through every vein and before you could even process what you’ve done, you had discarded your bag haphazardly to the side. You knew deep down that your best friend was in danger. “NAGISA,” You shouted impulsively when you saw the teacher slowly place the handkerchief on the Anti-Teacher blade.

        Your legs had reacted automatically at the sight, and you were shortening the distance between you, your best friend, and your teacher. Time still seemed to go on forever as you wedged between them and grabbed on to Nagisa tightly. You can just quickly catch his stunned expression before your eyes zeroed in at the grenade that dangled from his neck.

        This, your brain warned you, was a threat to Nagisa. Your irises constricted at the dangerous weapon and you quickly moved. Latching on to the necklace that held the grenade, you hastily gave it a pull and detached it from your friend. You then pushed Nagisa out of harm’s way, and grasped the bomb tightly to your stomach, hoping to shield it from everyone.

        You expected your teacher to do something about the situation, but from the looks of it he was definitely caught off guard by Nagisa's grenade trick. And you knew that because you can see the underlying nervousness. He was surprised. Surprised by what Nagisa did, and what you're doing now. Well, that's okay, because you got this... hopefully. Flashing your teacher a reassuring smile, you quickly whispered something to him.

        Then everything sped up at once. A burst of light accompanied with a loud explosion was witnessed at the front of the classroom. Pink Anti-Teacher pellets spilled on the floor after zipping in every direction and the students cried out, startle, while something charred fell in a deadly heap before them. It was silent for a while as the class took in what just occurred before them. 

        “We did it! Ten billion yen! Cha-ching!” The three misfits cheered all of a sudden as they danced their way to the front, seemingly uncaring of what just happened. In fact, Terasaka had even shouted out, “Serves you right!”

        Isogai whirled on them quickly and had shouted out the delinquent’s name in anger as Maehara growled out, “What have you done!” The three only grinned in an easy-going manner as they approached the burned mass.

        “Hey, what did you give Nagisa-?!”

        "(Y/N)…chan?” Kayano was immediately cut off as the boy in question stuttered with fear evident in his voice. “(Y/N)-chan…” Everyone gazed with held breaths at Nagisa, who was halfway down the row of desks, as he gradually, as if he couldn’t believe it, made his way to the front. Realization seemed to seep in like a chill as he continued to blankly walk. Slowly, everyone shifted their own expressions of horror to where you once stood.

        “Wait, (Y/N)-chan was…” Kayano’s sentence didn’t end as her voice failed her. A look of complete dismay was on her face and she quickly darted accusatory eyes on the misfits. “You…” She had started but her throat tightened and she couldn’t hold back a choked sob.

        “What? But she couldn’t have… She wasn’t even in the room when…” Terasaka stumbled over his words as nary a single dash of guilt was on his face. Only confusion was present as he pondered at the change in suicide bombers. “Well it doesn’t matter, we got the money now!” Then he bent down to peer at the blackened figure when his eyes caught something else. “Hold on…” His eyes dilated at the sudden sight of you wrapped in some kind of weird membrane and he stumbled backward out of shock.

        Nagisa collapsed on his knees the moment he caught sight of you, and he released a shaky breath. You weren’t even hurt, not a single burn was on your skin and it made the young bluenette slump back in relief. Thank goodness you were alright, was the only thing that Nagisa could think of.

        “The membrane is attached to the corpse…but…” Terasaka mumbled out and he was definitely so confused. How did you remain unscathed?

        “As it happens,” The voice of your teacher filled the room and the students glanced around with bewildered expressions, “I shed my skin about once a month. I protected (Y/N)-chan, who just so happened to intervene, by covering her with my old skin.” Upon his words, you gingerly sat up, now conscious, and the skin around you broke apart. Flippantly, you looked around with a bemused expression before you got your bearings. Immediately, you scrambled over to Nagisa to see if he was alright, ignoring or rather putting aside everything else. Even the tensed atmosphere and the sudden burst of wind did nothing to stop you from fussing over your friend.

        “Nagisa, are you alright? Did you get hurt? The bomb, did it hurt anyone else?” Your eyes skimmed over his physique and found with great relief that there was not even a single scratch on his uniform. Sighing similarly like the bluenette, you slouched and pulled on a grateful smile. “Thank goodness.” You have never been so happy. You honestly didn’t know if you would make it in time.

        A pair of blue orbs met yours and you leaned back a smidge to see the owner, although you already know who it belongs to since you’ve been seeing that color since you were a kid. Nagisa peered at you with a mix of worry, disbelief, and joy as he said, “There you go again, worrying about everyone else. (Y/N)-chan you took the brunt of the force, you should be worrying about yourself."

        Laughing lightly you replied with, “You have no right to say that, Mr. I’ll-blow-myself-up. Besides, I’m not even hurt.” Smiling small at that, you glanced back at the crumbling membrane and then to the teacher that was pure black and currently seething. You pursed your lips as you connected two and two. “At least if I didn’t make it in time, he would’ve done something for you.” You silently whispered as your attention was drawn to the quivering trio and to the octopus that seemed to have a limitless ability to scaring everybody.

        “What’s wrong with using an annoying method to kill an annoying guy?!” Terasaka pointed out and suddenly the death like mood that settled over the classroom changed to a suspiciously normal one, as the black drained from the teacher’s face and a scarlet replaced it.

        “Annoying? Hardly. Your idea itself was a very good one. Especially you, Nagisa-kun,” The octopus praised as he placed a comforting tentacle on said bluenette’s head and began to rub his hair affectionately. “The way you carried yourself so naturally on your approach, gets full marks from me. You did an excellent job at getting past my defenses. However!” He abruptly faced the trio who started at the attention. “None of you looked out for Nagisa-kun, not even Nagisa-kun himself. And yet, we have (Y/N)-chan do so for everybody here.”

        Upon his words, eyes are planted on you and you unconsciously began to raise a brow in a what-are-you-looking-at manner, until you stopped yourself. Instead of that, a small yet dazzling smile settled on your lips. You heard him say it; you were able to protect everybody. This had induced your lips to quirk upwards as you succeeded in shielding not just Nagisa, but everybody from danger.

        “Oi,” You called out, hands casually intertwined behind your head as your gaze drilled in the back of three familiar students. Upon your call, those three glanced over their shoulders and minutely tensed under the intensity of your stare. It was obvious that you wanted to break something, or even more drastic, kill someone. “If I remember correctly, all three of you were responsible for that bomb trick during fifth period.” You said lowly as your position unraveled until you were standing with a hand clenched beside you. “You know, I really hated what you did.”

        “What do you want, (Y/N)?” Terasaka grumbled out in an attempt to intimidate you but it clearly didn’t work as you stood your ground. In fact, it made you ten times more menacing as you cast your eyes to their growing guarded faces. You couldn’t believe that they were acting dumb about this.

        “If you’re going to chew us out, don’t bother! That alien already yelled at us, remember!” Muramatsu had shouted but you weren’t looking for another lecture. Abruptly, you closed the space between your victims and delivered a clean punch to the jaw of the blond. His body twisted from the impact and he’s sent flying down the dirt path. Terasaka and Yoshida’s own jaws clenched at how their friend was so easily thrown off his feet.

        Whirling on you, Yoshida tightened his fist and then yelled, “Hey, you can’t ju-!” You quickly cut him off with a roundhouse kick to the side. The male tumbled over a few feet away and, while he’s clutching his side painfully, he coughed out violently from the force. Anyone can tell that his whole torso was in pain.

        Terasaka whipped to you, who only glared and shook from all the fury bottled up inside. He couldn’t believe what he just saw, but then again he knew what you were capable of. He had known exactly what you did last year, and he knew what’s going to happen to him next. Swallowing down his thoughts, Terasaka took a step back in an attempt to run, but your hand lashed out and grabbed his collar. Effortlessly, you lifted your arm and glowered dangerously at him.

        “You’re most likely the mastermind of that dumbass plan, right? Well listen to me carefully. You may have been given the scare of your lifetime today, but you’ve signed for your death the moment you decided that Nagisa would carry out your deed. He’s a precious friend to me and you are so lucky that he was unharmed. Otherwise, I would’ve snapped your neck in a second. Then again, what’s to stop me if I do it now?” Your gaze was murderous.

        Terasaka felt a cold creep up his spine, causing his body to pale considerably. You were pulling so tightly to his collar that his shirt was starting to choke him, and he thrashed around fiercely to escape but it was pointless. You weren't planning on letting him go anytime soon. The chill that he felt was then labeled with fear and his struggles became even wilder.

        A dark chuckle reached his ears as he squirmed, and the male paused to watch you with a dumbfounded expression. You were laughing, amused, at his actions. He only saw that sight of you before his face met the ground painfully and swiftly. A warm trickle could be felt on his upper lip and the male knew his nose was broken.

        “Nagisa begged me not to injure any of you before class ended. Be glad that he was at least thinking of you or else I would've hurt you more.” Then you gave him one last kick to the side before swiveling on your shoes, ready to walk down the mountain. Your hands were still shaking while you followed the dirt path, and your eyes have yet to revert to your calm ones. You were too hopped up on adrenaline. When you had said that your only reason for being here was to protect, you weren’t being half-hearted about it. You were serious and willing to kill to protect.

Fact about (Y/N):

1. She’ll stop at nothing for those she loves.