#also can u tell I’m a film studies student

[mayday505]

I haven’t read untold origins so idk how accurate the anime is so far HOWEVER. YOUNG ODA !!! YOUNG RANPO !!! PRE-RANPO FUKUZAWA AAAAA also the greyscale Was a nice touch I actually liked it. If they weren’t hinging on use of gold light in Dark Era the greyscale would’ve worked there too. I’m so excited bsd season four is the only thing keeping me going so bones!!! If u fuck this up !!! 😀😀😀😀😀my therapist will be hearing about you 😀😀😀

[mybrokenveins3000]

I’m starting uni in just over 2 weeks too! How are you feeling about it? You probably get that question a lot, I know I do, I usually just say I’m excited but a bit nervous because explaining how I’m really feeling is too much haha. I’d love to hear how your really feeling about it though, I feel like it would be nice to hear someone else’s experience even if it’s just to remind anyone else going that we’re in the same boat :)

HELLO HI thank u for. talking to me, it's really nice to know i'm not alone out here on tumblr/the world :,) NOW get ready for an unnecessarily long + personal answer bc i love to talk 😀👍

ok so i'm in a bit of an interesting position because i took a gap year. sixth form burnt me out academically and emotionally so i knew i had to do something else for a bit to fall back in love with the idea of being student. AND I HAVE!! so like you, im immensely, immensely excited.

one advantage of doing this is that i got to watch my friends and how they got on in first year. i'm feeling quite confident because of how much i observed and learnt, how to avoid making mistakes/what mistakes i'm inevitably going to make. im quite lucky, im comforted by the fact that i already know a few people there bc i deferred, but im also able to make new friends. sorry, this answer is so niche and specific atm ANYWAYS I DIGRESS.

but like you, i'm so nervous. i cannot contain how genuinely terrified i am, the idea that MY WHOLE LIFE AS I KNOW IT is completely changing — im actually gonna shit myself. like this year i really got to a position where i really like myself, i feel on top of the world because i feel like i know myself and how my life looks like, WDYM THATS ALL GOING TO CHANGE. oh, the dread i feel when my parents with drive back home without me. i've really learnt to love so many things abt my pre-uni life as well, i wish i could set up myself up to not have my heart break, but that's inevitable and SCARY.

it's all so close as well, i think about what my life will look like in two/three weeks and i see nothing? in the least fatalistic way. it's both a comfort and a nightmare.

i'm moving from a small town to a big city (such a cliché), so of course i'm like. 🎶JUST A SMALL TOWN GIRLLL, LIVIN IN A LONELYY WORLDD🎶 excited, i feel like my life is expanding outward like a galaxy and that the next three years are a blank canvas for me to do whatever the fuck i want with, be whoever i want to be, study what i LOVE (english lit and film [ofc im doing film, reader in that fresher!ross oneshot is embarrassingly based off me]), take every opportunity that's available to me, do things i otherwise would never be able to do in this town. im so excited to meet new people and to talk (u can tell i like to talk 💀), it's just really nice to know i'm on the border of some of the best memories/most formative years of my life.

but im also grieving this idea of growing up. it will surely pain me to move all my stuff from my childhood bedroom to a new place, to not have my parents' cooking everyday, to come back an adult and be regarded to as an adult. ITS A REAL MIXED BAG. i dunno if any of this helps, im shitting it but i am so so so excited.

last thing i will say that might help anyone reading is that, hey, im a delusional girlie, i started a fanfic account of gods sake, so i tend to fantasise and fictionalise my life, have expectations on what my life or what this milestone should look like. eg. in uni i will find the love of my life and we will be together forever (exaggerated example but an example nonetheless) — im saying this more for me but the answer is to let go of expectations. operate on no plan. organise your academic life sure, but personal life wise, BE FREE! take every situation as it comes and don't give yourself a headache thinking too far ahead. from what i've heard and read, thats a big thing people in their twenties have to deal with, with some people having children, getting married, whilst others are job searching, still in school etc. ive only just turned 19 so that's far away from me atm, but it's just a good thing to remember that everyone's life is different, paced differently, and there's no fix structure anyone needs to follow.

that's about it, let me know your thoughts :,) sorry this was so long 💀 but thank you for asking that because i enjoyed answering 🫶🫶🫶 please know that you are not alone, if u need a friend during uni, theres a you-sized hole in my messages/asks inbox thats all for you.

[bloomingjungwon]

please write a heeseung college!au !!!! ♡♡

college!au heeseung

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: thank you for requesting! sorry if this is so long, i kind of got carried away and i was kind of inspired by one of my favorite blogger's writing style

major: cinematography (don't ask why, i can just imagine him being so into making motion pictures)

he'd probably minor in like north american or woman studies tbh

i can see him as a really quiet, doesn't involve himself in too many things, kind of student

doesn't really speak up when it isn't needed

but if it's a topic he's really familiar with, you can't shut him up

definitley the type of student to sit in the very front even if the classroom has like a billion seats left open

i also see him as the type to never be in the library, he usually just studies out on the grass or in a very underrated cafe.

lives off of coffee to the point his roomate!jake tells him he smells like coffee 25/8

you know how gym freaks take a shot of like protein powder before their workout? yeah that's him but with ground up coffee beans if he is in a rush and doesn't want to wait for his coffee to brew.

it's kinda funny, you don't know heeseung, and he doesn't know you. but you pass each other almost everyday because you also go to the same cafe as him.

like youre always leaving as he enters and like????

hello how r u not noticing such an amazing human being

but dont worry, ya'll meet some day

you're walking across your campus and the bulletin board catches your attention

amongst all the papers screaming "tutor needed" or "join our club", theres a flier SMACK DAB in the middle

"class do20 presents mini films at flint theatre this friday!"

and like, that peaks your interests

because you've always appreciated people's works

but you're kinda just standing in the middle of the walkway and staring at it , you don't realize someone standing next to you

"are you going to go and watch?"

you nearly jumped out of your skin cause like, who tf just talks to someone without getting their attention first

heeseung does

and now he's just staring at you waiting for an answer

"uh,, yeah seems kind of interesting. why? are you?"

"i have no choice to. i'm a part of it, i just haven't started on my film yet."

.... homie, the show is on friday and it's currently tuesday

silence

no words or expressions are exchanged and you're just staring awkwardly at each other

but in reality, you two are just silently admiring each other's features

"do you want to be a part of my film?"

your blank expression turned into a "wtf" kind of expression

"you want me, a complete stranger, to be a part of your film?"

he proceeds to tell you that it'll be a lot easier for him to work with a stranger since he'd most likely not mess around

because this boy needs to get his assignment done asap

and you kind of hesitate but then you're like "well, fuck it. sure"

and then he smiles. and holy

this guy has one of the most captivating smiles ever and you literally feel your heart stop for a small second

"let's get started today, if that's okay with you?" he suggests

and you agree and tell him you have one more class, but he can meet you at a cafe you're usually at

and now it's his turn for his heart to skip a beat because he's talking to an attractive person who just willingly agreed to help him on his project AND goes to the same underrated cafe???

but before he can say anything.. you're already walking away

and now he's just standing there dumb and love struck

but yeah heeseung is already at the cafe thirty min early while he waits for you, camera out facing the door, waiting for you to enter

catches you on film as you walk inside and he kinda just watches you in awe as you're scanning the room to find where he is

you give him a small smile and wave and in that moment, heeseung knew what title he was giving his film

you take your seat and you're like "so, what would you like me to do?"

and heeseung just asks you to do whatever you would usually do at the cafe

and you're like oh sweet. that's easy.

so you ask him what kind of coffee he wants and when he tells you, you stand up to leave and order coffee

he films everything

from you standing in line awkwardly, you picking at your nails, scrolling through your phone, ordering... literally everything

you come back holding both cups (which of course he films too)

"i usually just do my homework while i'm here, but i don't have a lot today"

"that's fine. you can just do it, and if it's okay, i can ask you questions to get to know you better."

"yeah that's okay with me. i can multitask well. i think."

that earns you a chuckle from him

he angles the camera at the end of the end of the table, focusing on you

and ya'll just do homework together and learn new things about each other

like how you eat pizza with a fork and knife because you refuse to get your hands dirty

which heeseung reacts with "do you need professional help?"

but homie blurts out he lives and breathes off of ramen noodles and his roomate!jake has to restock for him every two days

and you're like.... "you're the one who needs professional help."

and for a couple hours

you guys are just goofing around and talking to each other as if you've known each other for years

homework done, three cups of coffee later, heeseung's camera runs out of battery so he calls it a day

chooses the next location to film

a dog park

so the next day, classes done, you meet him at the dog park, and even brought your dog

films you throwing tennis balls, petting dogs, and even you getting chased by a dog

laughs throughout the whole filming process but then internally regrets it because he notices it could probably be heard in the video

breaks it to you that he has enough content for his project

and lowkey youre kind of sad because you've had fun being around him the past two days but you keep it to yourself

"i'm glad i could help. i can't wait to see it heeseung."

loves the way you say his name and now he's sad too because he doesn't really have an excuse to hang out with you more

so ya'll part ways after saying bye

but it's not some dramatic "i'm never going to see them again"

cause ya'll run into each other again at the cafe the next day

and it's kind of unspoken but ya'll just silently agree to sit down with each other and work on homework

you, reading out of your textbook, and him working diligently on his laptop (shh he's editing his film)

and you kind of steal glances his way and he's just smiling to himself as he works

and that's because he loves the way his film is coming along, and he loves seeing you

because in that moment, you both realize you have feelings for each other

but once again it's unspoken cause you're both scaredy cats

you call it a day and say bye and him back

you guys don't see each other until the night of the film show

and you're like okay i'll tell him i have feelings for him after the show

little did you know, he was thinking the same thing about you

but he's up in the film booth sweating his ass off because he knows you're somewhere in the crowd

and all of a sudden he doesn't want to be there

"what if they don't like me in that way?" "what if they take my video the wrong way?"

internally and externally panics

but before he can grab his cd and break it, the lights turn off and oh shit the show is starting

tbh, the films from the other students were quite interesting and you were enjoying each one

but this uncomfortable feeling was forming in the pit of your stomach

were you anxious? nervous?

idk but you were anticipating heeseung's film

and finally on the screen appeared heeseung's picture and biography

you didn't even notice the smile growing on your face

you thought to yourself, what did he even name his film?

"love through my eyes"

....love??

does heeseung have feelings for me too? or did they switch up someone's film with his??

but nope, there was no switch up

you watched yourself on the screen, from you smiling at him at the first moments in the cafe, to you laughing at his eating habits, and to you being chased by the dog, audibly hearing heeseung's giggles

but you thought it was over until there were more clips of the both of you in the cafe

however, they weren't from the first meeting. the clothes you both were wearing were different

wait, isn't this from two days ago? he filmed us that day?

from a hidden angle, the camera caught you two stealing glances at each other when the other wasn't paying attention.

you looked at him with stars in your eyes, and when you went back to your textbook, he stole glances at you as if your were his entire universe

speechless, the film ended, and with his film being last, the show ended and the lights turned back on

you didn't even applaud, for you ran out of the building immediatley, looking for heeseung

and there he is at the entrance of the theatre just staring at his feet

looks up when you hear him running up to him

"so... the film" he starts

but you don't let him finish because you pull him by the shirt and kiss him

and he's shocked because what the fuck they're kising me?!?!

but relaxes and kisses you back

and yeah, that's how your relationship starts

and expect him to film you at random times

would probably treasure "love through my eyes" and play it as a surprise at your guys' wedding in the future

im crying

[kyun-toast]

[ATEEZ] as University Students

a/n: I love college AUs but I'm British so I thought I'd chip in w some painfully British uni lad ateez

Hongjoong

Besties w his tutor

Got his life down on lock

One of those ppl that are always on top of their work, have acc done the reading and gets good grades but is still rlly cool and has a social life ygm

But thats only bc he lives in the library

Has a designated seat and there's an unspoken rule amongst the students that that's HIS spot, nobody sits in it

Often seen napping at said library spot

So well dressed. He’s one of those students that always catches your eye around campus or lecture halls

Bc he’s just so well dressed for a uni student running on 0 hours sleep and red bull

Probs studies smth like joint honours music and philosophy

Also Vice President of smth like filmsoc

Friends with the baristas at Starbucks bc he’s just in there for caffeine all the time

We all aspire to be like student hj, just more sleep pls

Seonghwa

Voted most eligible bachelor amongst students

Famous around campus just for being so pretty

He’s one of those ppl you see on like the first day of uni and it’s an instant crush

But you’ll never be able to do anything abt it you just have to admire from the other side of the lecture hall

Actually speaks up in seminars bc he’s done the reading sat next to hongjoong in the library

He looks like he’d play tennis for uni and varsity tickets would sell like crazy bc so many ppl have crushes on that man

He’d bring his lil meal prep packed lunches to uni lol what a little sweetheart

Been pictured in the uni prospectus at least once

Hongjoong makes him go w him to freshers fair for his society to use as bait so he stands there handing out leaflets for a soc he’s not even part of

Yunho

Doesn’t know what’s going on half the time he’s just happy to be there

This is v evident in lectures. Professor could be going on and on in a stats class and he’ll just sit there smiling

His gaming setup takes up most of his room and is also where most of his money goes

Texts u at 4am like hey u wanna get pizza

And you know he’s up at that time bc he’s been gaming all night

Still gets good grades despite the fact that all he does is game?

You ask him how he does it and he’s just like idk?

You are perplexed.

All soft in cute jumpers and hoodies but one day you’ll see him suited up at a formal and wow heart eyes

Super fun at parties too, have u seen that man dance?

You have multiple videos of him twerking

Yeosang

That mysterious boy at the back of class that doesn’t speak a lot but whenever he does its always smth smart af

Types really loud on his macbook

Looks like he doesn’t have any friends

But outside of lectures he’s always w friends that look equally as mysterious and cool

No one on your course knows anything abt him

But you see him at a house party once and he’s just stuffing his face w food having a great time

Feel like his alcohol tolerance is super low

Two shots and he’s out cold

And then you’ll see him again at some niche soc social like basket weaving or smth

Works part time at a cool clothing store like allsaints or cos

Chicken shop connoisseur, knows the best places in town

San

Actually studies rlly hard, i can tell he always gives 110% on whatever he’s set his mind to

Soft student always in oversized hoodies, spinning pens, v enthusiastic and pays attention in lectures

But when hes w wooyoung oh man

The enabler, 110% attitude towards drinking too

Pours drinks w 80% alc 20% mixer

“my mother didn’t raise a quitter”

Type to sprint home from the club bc he doesnt wanna waste money on uber

Will make animal friends otw and bring them home

You wake up and come downstairs the next morning and theres just a pigeon in your living room

On the athletics team which is why he may find it instinctive to run home when he’s drunk

San would like for there to be a greggs on campus

Mingi

ALWAYS napping in lectures, seminars, during lunch, in the library, u name it

Knows the best spots for it tho.

You didn’t know there was a secluded spot w bean bags under the stairs at the back of the library until mingi told you

Never missed 9am lectures but will nap through them instead

Gets freshers flu every year and the cough lasts for months

You hear someone cough in the room over and ur like oh, well there’s Mingi

Gives you the best advice at 4am in the library

Also best cuddles

Studies smth like aerospace engineering but regrets it bc he didn’t know what he was getting himself into

Considers dropping out every exam season but always pulls through w good grades?

Wooyoung

Bnoc thats all i have to say

Has like 4k followers on ig

Always running around campus for no reason

Woo and san together at parties u know its going to be buck fckin wild

Always got ppl swooning over him but he just wants to have fun!

No time for relationships! Only alcohol!

When he studies tho? £3 meal deal and writes 2 sentences kind of guy

Business management OR marketing student I can feel it in my bones

The type to tell u funny stories in a silent library and it takes everything in u to stop laughing

Ppl will look over at you two and youre just holding your breaths on the verge of exploding

Security will kick u out at one point

Tight w the local kebab shop bossman

Jongho

Brings everything in a backpack to uni like a year 7

Need a hole punch? Ask jongho. Painkillers? Jongho. Assortment of multi coloured pens? Jongho

Writes the best notes

They're all colour coordinated in different folders for different modules

All the office ladies dote on him bc he’s so sweet

They all offer him tea and biscuits

Youngest but is the voice of reason in the group

Wy will be like do u wanna get drunk in the library

And jongho is like bro ur deadline is tomorrow are u ok

The type to be filming all the other guys when theyre up to some questionable stuff for the memories

Feel like he’d be on committee for whatever course he’s studying

I get pharmacy vibes from this boy

Got job offers lined up for when he graduates

[dontmesswithnoheroin]

hey do u know what i cant stand 

the hot smart woman trope

yeh that one

i  r e f u s e to watch queens gambit because im so sick of this trope. and im gonna elaborate.

some would say im a woman and also smart. i study Conventionally Smart Subject^TM of physics, although - as some of my colleagues would argue - the dumbest kind of physics, which is cross-disciplinary geophysics. not a lot of equations, more like computation, models, looking at graphs and saying “ahhh... i dont get it”. 

any STEM student will tell you that a good deal of professors in STEM do not give a flying fuck about what they look like. the amount. of hairy underbelly sticking out of a too small button up shirt i’ve seen in my years as a student... far too much. in my study, about 75% of the professors are men. the women generally have to look neater than the men because Gender Roles, but a good deal of them still don’t give a fuck about what they look like, if it’s presentable, then that’s what it is. 

and don’t get me wrong, there are many female scientists that look fantastic and dress beautifully and are really, really Hot. and i’m a big fan of them.

but like. i feel like in movies and tv shows, if a woman is smart and not hot, she will not be taken seriously. it’s the fucking male gaze. i’m so sick of this tired ass, lazy ass trope of “woman too smart for her own good... she has social issues because she is So Smart. Smarter than the other women. Also wears spandex all the time.” like choose one??? if someone is so intelligent that they spend nearly every breathing moment solving complex problems within their field, they’re gonna forget to shower. and don’t even get me started on exercise to reach that Hollywood Skinny.

Hermione is the perfect example of this, especially the way they portray her in the movie. In the book, her transition at the gala is striking, because she generally doesn’t care what she looks like, with hair all over the place and an imposing personality that makes her less Attractive To Men. However, Emma Watson was chosen for this role, arguably one of the most conventionally beautiful women, and additionally they did everything to glam her up. Her entrance at the gala did not have a bit of the impact it meant to have had, because Hermione was already beautiful, styled to be beautiful, and generally a nauseatingly perfect character.

Standard Astronout Outfit:

Literally every woman in the Marvel universe is Like This:

Also that scientist chick from Jurassic World that ran from the dinosaurs in fucking high heels like kill me now:

And look, I don’t mean to dig at these women for being Conventionally Hollywood Attractive. It’s not their fault, right? And I also am aware of the ugly woman scientist trope, and that there are films and media in general which tried to break the stupid stereotype that women can be only either smart or sexy, not both. But I’m just so tired of a portrayal of an intelligent, workaholic woman as a sex bomb, an eye candy for men. You don’t get all of these things at once. Women are imperfect. A lot of women spend most time not wanting to be looked at. A lot of women scientists are unsexy most of the time. That should be fine. Women should be portrayed as human in media.

I have to say, there are also plenty fantastic examples of smart women who are also beautiful and not portrayed in this way. In fact, there is more and more of them. My recent fav is Mary Malone from His Dark Materials:

And don’t get me wrong here, I think Mary is h o t. In fact, I would let Mary raw me all night long. But her looks are nowhere near the center attraction of her character. It’s her intelligence, curiosity and kindness. She looks and dresses like a professor I could see at my campus. Her workaholism is expressed as having no family, spending all the time on her work, instead of strutting around in underwear with a bottle of whiskey. Her smarts ARE truly not good for her sometimes, she gets completely swallowed by her research. But she is never portrayed as a Sexy Woman In The Middle Of A Breakdown. And the best thing about Mary is, when she goes on a journey to a parallel world, she wears fucking hiker gear. HIKER GEAR. I love her sm.

Anyway, perhaps you can see my point why I really dislike the main character of the queens gambit without even seeing the series. Because the (record!) popularity of it reminds me of the fact that in the eyes of the world, a woman still has to be Sexy to be Smart. And I’m tired of it, folks. I’m really bored. Bring something new. I’ve seen a woman in underwear. I see her everyday actually. I want to see more female scientists that don’t give a fuck about male gaze, or anyone’s gaze for that matter.

That has been my TED talk.

[hansolmates]

jjk; angel’s trumpet [08]

summary; one second, your life is flashing before your eyes and the next, you’re transported into a world exactly like your own. but the jungkook you meet in this world isn’t a renowned singer or your former almost-lover, in fact he has no clue who you are and why you know him so well. as you work to find your way home lost and confused, you conclude that you’re either dead or in the middle of the most wicked drug trip of your life. pairing; idol!jk x reader (f), alternatively film producer!jk x reader genre/warnings; fluff, angst, supernatural, idol!au, non-idol!au, alternate universes, themes of fate, language, alcohol consumption, in this chapter–mentions of sex, a panic attack w.c; 4.5k a/n; can’t believe there’s one more chapter after this! (+the bonus chapter!) its such a bittersweet feeling to close this all up so i hope u all join me in my w2!jk sobbing party im making matcha cookies rn so i can wallow

[07] [08] [final] -> masterpost

Jungkook’s worried. 

After he left your apartment, he dove himself into his work and tried to get you out of his head. Somehow he ended up from his living room table to his bed, bleary and with a pen jabbing him in the cheek. He doesn’t know how he feels right now, and has micro analyzed every bit of your relationship in between breaks.

He fell fast, and loving you (as much as it scares himself to admit) was so easy it hurt. It’s why it’s so hard for him to accept that you would betray him like that. What could he have possibly done to deserve this? If you had just admitted your issues from day one, this crisis could have easily been averted and you would be with him right now. 

But that’s not why he’s worried. Jungkook wakes up the following day around 10AM, noting the dozens of messages and unanswered phone calls from Jimin and Taehyung. 

According to Taehyung, you’ve been missing for three days. Off-the-grid type of missing, to the point that Taehyung is debating on whether or not he should call the police. 

The first day you didn’t come home, Taehyung chalked it up as you spending the night at Jungkook’s. The second day however, he visits the library where your office hours are held only to find your usual table empty and your students upset over your lack of contact. 

“Here,” Doyeon had said, pointing to the vague email you sent. Taehyung skimmed through the barebones message, mentioning that you had to take an indefinite leave and that the students can email Professor Kim Namjoon if they still had lingering questions. 

Taehyung notes the sincere apology at the bottom, and how you tack on that “you are a wonderful group of students and I wish you the best of luck in your future endeavors.” 

Almost as if you aren’t planning to come back. 

He could hear Taehyung deflate on the line, knowing that Jungkook has no idea where you are either. 

“Did you…” Jungkook scratches his head, sitting at his kitchen table, “did you check her room for a yellow notebook?” 

“What?” Taehyung asks, “I checked her room yesterday. Y’know the weird thing is? Her room is clean, like clinically clean. There’s nothing on her desk, the sheets are washed, and her clothes are all folded and put away. Usually it’s like a whirlwind in here.” 

“Yeah,” Jungkook replies, remembering how your room is usually quite lived in, with warm sheets and a candle glowing. 

“Why aren’t you more stressed out, dude?” Taehyung says, and Jungkook instantly feels guilty. “Your girlfriend’s fucking missing, are you gonna get up and help or not?” 

“Y-yeah, I’m just a little shaken,” he manages to reply, thinking about how you tried to explain to him the other night. He pinches the bridge between his brows, regretting not letting you have your word when refusing to listen to you. Maybe if he heard it, things would have turned out differently.

Taehyung sighs, “Yeah, it’s a bit of a shock. She really isn’t like this normally, but I trust her. If you can, maybe contact Jung Hoseok? I already visited Kim Namjoon and he doesn’t know anything, but he’s the only friend I know that could have any idea.” 

Jung Hoseok. He remembers that name frequently in your notebook. Not as frequently as his, but enough to have a good idea he could be involved in your sudden departure. 

“Okay, I’ll visit him today.” 

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

The tables that you usually occupy for study groups are painfully absent of your presence, noted by your stressed out students that are hoping you’ll show up unexpectedly. 

Thankfully, Hoseok is working today. Jungkook eyes him from the doorway of the playroom, seeing Hoseok carefully distribute plates of snacks as a movie plays on the flatscreen. He looks like a preschooler himself, decked out in a sunflower yellow bucket hat and denim suspenders. Jungkook tries to see if there’s anything strange emanating from Hoseok, like if he also has secrets to hide, but feels nothing of the sort.  

“You’re really creepy, Mister,” the door swings open to reveal a little girl, tugging impatiently at his cargos. 

Hoseok makes a face at Jungkook, rolling his eyes. “God, just come in. You’re scaring my children.” 

The little girl practically shoves him inside, forcing him to sit at the playtable on the very end. She then hands him a plate of cheddar Goldfish and strawberry fruit snacks, a toddler’s delicacy. Hoseok makes a show of telling the children to be quiet, focusing on the movie’s “historical elements” and “symbolic imagery” but they don’t understand any of that and just want Hoseok to move so they can watch Mulan. 

Jungkook feels like he’s being crushed in the too-small chair and Fisher-Price table, munching absentmindedly on his Goldfish. Hoseok is playing on his phone, not sparing him a glance as he texts someone. 

Jungkook swallows, wishing he had some milk to down the snack. “Uh, are you texting y/n?” 

“No,” Hoseok replies coolly. 

“Well, do you know where she is?” 

“I can tell you where she went,” Hoseok replies eerily, plucking a fruit snack from Jungkook’s place, “as to whether she’s still there or not, I’m not sure.” 

“I’m sorry, but are you mad at me?” he whisper-hisses, not wanting to disturb the children enamoured at the front of the room. He’s tired of the secrecy and blurry answers. 

“Yes, I am,” Hoseok snaps just as quietly, leaning in to get into his face, “I’m mad because I believed in you.” 

“Believed in me?” he gapes, “you don’t even know me!” 

“I may not, but I believed you’d trust y/n at least. She’s a victim too, y’know.” 

A victim? 

“Look,” Jungkook puts some space between them, afraid he would get too heated, “just tell me what’s going on so I can understand. I know I messed up, but I feel like I’ve been in the dark for God knows how long.”

Hoseok bites his lip, “It’s really not my story to tell. Y/n didn’t want to tell you right away because she wasn’t sure of the circumstances. She wasn’t sure even if she was supposed to tell you.” 

Jungkook watches the expressions morph on Hoseok’s face. He sees the faith in his gaze, as he holds his phone expectantly, as if he’s also waiting for a sign that you’re okay. Jungkook suppresses a sigh, looking at his own blank screen. Shaking his head, he manages to smile knowing that so many people believe in you.

So why can’t he? 

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

You hate this. Three days ago you felt peachy keen, ready to transcend into your own universe and live your life to the fullest. 

Now three days later you’re sitting at the wine lady’s cottage, waiting for the past two days for her to show up. 

“How long does she need to go on this ‘spiritual retreat’?” you admonish, looking on angrily at the same waitress that has served you for the past two days. 

“I don’t know,” the waitress has grown tired of your presence, waiting all day in the little restaurant for the owner’s presence, “until she feels more spiritual, I guess?” 

It annoys you further that this waitress has the spitting image of Sehlyung. It’s weird to see her with natural pin straight black hair, always loving the pretty blond-white color and sacrificing her hair health for the bright hue. Every time she sees you still in the same spot, she makes it a point to roll her eyes and walk a little louder. This version of her is just as temperamental, unwilling to budge. 

You groan, shamelessly annoyed as you drop your head on your arm. “And are you sure there’s no angel’s wine in the bar? I’m willing to take the risk of switching lives with my third dimension-self at this rate.” 

The waitress eyes the one empty bottle of soju that decorate your side of the bar, chalking it up as a drunk episode. “No,” she says flatly, jerking her hand out. “Now, please pay and leave. We’re closing up, but I’ll give you a call if she decides to show up late. Since y’know, you’ve left your number here despite our protests.” 

“Can I stay until you’re at least done cleaning—” 

“No.” 

You narrow your eyes, snatching up your half-finished bottle of soju before tucking it in your purse and offering up your credit card in exchange. You know you’re not in the right mind, but you’re pulling at strings at this point and you don’t know what to do. 

After a couple paces of shaky walking and trying very hard not to appear tipsy in public, you plop yourself onto the beach, overlooking the shore. You place your backpack next to you, taking off your shoes and dipping your toes in the sand. 

You glare hard at the moon, despite the distance the big ball of extraterrestrial rock is bright and full. It reflects in the ocean and bathes you in it’s grace. 

Sighing at its beauty, you take a swig of your soju as your feet wade in the water. The touch of the ocean is glaringly cold, but your body feels warm and the contrast is appropriately jarring. You feel stuck between two worlds, your body in one while your heart is in the other, desperate to find the bridge to bring you home. 

What exactly was the goal in bringing you here? Did you need a break from your real life? Did fate want you to remedy your relationship with Jungkook? Were you supposed to rewrite the wrongs you committed in your other life? 

You snort, taking a long swig. It's easy to see how well that went. 

You miss your life back home. As much as you love the one your alternate self has made here, nothing compares to Sehlyung’s humor and dirty jokes. Nothing compares to the look on Beomgyu’s face after getting a sentence translation correct. Nothing compares to the way Jungkook looks for only you after a concert, desperate to give you a hug and an affirmation that he did well. 

Just as you are about to sing to the moon and beg for a reprieve, a body plops themselves next to you, snatching the bottle from your hands. 

“Y’know, normally when people run away, they leave a mysterious note.” 

You frown at Jungkook, who looks absolutely ethereal as he stares at the moon. He’s glittering in his denim jacket and black jeans, as if he’s part of an intimate moment in a slice-of-life film. You have half a mind to grab your phone and yell at Hoseok, but it’s far too late since your location has already been revealed. 

“What are you doing here?” you ask, trying not to snap when Jungkook pours the contents of your drink into the ocean. “Hey, I paid for that.” 

Ignoring you he says, “I’m here to take you home.” 

“I don’t have a home here,” you snap, and you mean it. 

Jungkook digs a hole for your bottle, letting the sea green grass sit in the sandhole. He turns to you, looking weary and worried. You try not to feel worried over the slump in his chest, or the way he looks like he ran a marathon to find you. 

“Then where is your home?” he asks gently, resting an arm over his knee and turning to face you. 

You curl up further into your body, hoping you’ll shrink if you press your legs close enough to your chest. “It’s not here,” you mumble into your knees. 

“Tell me where,” and you don’t shove him away when he puts his palm on your thigh, coaxing you out of your shell. “I’ll listen this time.” Deathly slow, you lift your head up, letting him catch your stray tears and spread your body with warmth. He scoots over to you, the rough sand making it difficult as he tries to wrap his arm around you. The both of you let out a breath, missing each other’s touch. “I’m sorry,” he says, the apologies melting into your temple, “I should’ve listened from the beginning, and been more patient. It’s my fault you’re all the way out here.” 

The oceans crash against both of your feet, the water eager to swallow you whole. 

“Two months ago I got into a fight with you, the other you,” you start, and Jungkook doesn’t budge, and you’re thankful he doesn’t attempt to bombard you with questions, “it wasn’t a stupid fight. It was something building for a long, long time. And I came home drunk. One second, I was two seconds away from being sideswept by an incoming truck, and the next second it’s daytime and it’s you that nearly runs me over.” 

He rubs small circles into your shoulder, and you almost hum at his touch. You miss Jungkook so much. 

“The Jungkook I’ve told you about isn’t dead,” you explain, “he’s—and I’m, we’re from another universe.” 

And between you, Jungkook, and the moon you profess your journey. Starting from the anxiety you felt from the first week, how you holed yourself in your apartment until Namjoon had to whisk you out, to your relief when Hoseok believed your crazy ideas. Halfway through you decide to piece your theories within the story, your last conversation with Jungkook, coupled with the angel’s wine and explaining how scary it was to see your matching tattoos and the meaning behind them. 

“But, I wasn’t trying to fall in love with you so I could go home,” you admit tearfully, feeling the weight of the night on your shoulders, “it, it just happened naturally. It made me believe that in another world, we would’ve worked out. Just like he said.”  

“I believe you,” he says firmly, exhaling. The whole explanation, understatedly, is a lot to take in. But he isn’t going to reject it, in fact as absurd as it is it makes far more sense than you planning out a Jungkook-inspired sci-fi novel or questioning your sanity. “I—I didn’t want to at first. It was easier to say you were crazy but, it doesn’t seem like the case. The way you saw me that morning we met, I could see how much you cared for me—him—us?” he scratches his head, unsure of how he should refer to himself in the situation.  

“I don’t blame you,” you shake your head, “Namjoon wanted me to see a doctor.” 

“It must’ve been hard,” he states, “seeing so much of him in me.” 

“You are him,” you retort, looking up so that your noses are touching. There’s pain in both your gazes, equally upset at the circumstances. “I’m sorry you got the short end of the stick. I wish you could’ve met me, the other me, under normal circumstances.” 

“Remember what I said before?” he asks, lifting a hand to brush your hair behind your ear. “I said that our meeting was fate. And now I believe it more than ever.” 

You laugh, leaning your head against his shoulder. “Y’know, Jungkook believes in fate too. He used to joke about hearing the bell when he found ‘the one’ like in Kimi No Na Wa.” 

Jungkook grins, “That guy of yours seems pretty cool,” he jokes, “let him know that in our case, the bell was my horn because I didn’t wanna run you over.” 

The whole situation is confusing, but you’re thankful that Jungkook seems to be at ease now that all your cards are laid out. 

“So does your Jungkook do film too?” 

“Uh,” you choke out a cough, “he’s actually a singer, dancer, producer, and films when he has the time. Mostly singer, the main one in a K-pop group. With Hoseok, Jimin, Taehyung, Yoongi, Namjoon, and Seokjin.” 

He gapes, “Kim Seokjin? The actor Seokjin? Damn he’s like, super fine—” 

“God this is so weird.” 

“So how many figures are they making a year? In the hundred-thousands, like six-figures?” 

“Er, more like eight,” you squeak, “and then some. But you put a lot of your money into donations.” 

“Damn babe, you downgraded,” Jungkook jokes, and you smack him playfully on the arm. “So that’s how you got the song, huh?” 

“Still With You? Yeah,” you say, running your hands through the soft sand, “it’s weird to live in a world without your music, byproduct of my job. It happens to be a big part of my life,” your eyes glaze over the ocean, “I missed hearing your voice.” 

“Y/n,” Jungkook threads his fingers through the sand to find your hands, “I’m really, really sorry I doubted you.” 

You disagree, “It’s a crazy situation. I don’t even know if I’m really sane at this moment,” you chuckle, “I mean, the time went by so fast. I would be paranoid because for you, it’s like being in a new relationship. I didn’t think it would be so easy to love you all over again like that.” 

“Neither did I.” Jungkook replies warmly, and he smiles when he sees you gaping. He leans over to press a kiss to your lips, a feeling long-missed. “And a little part of me knows he feels the same way, too.” 

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

It’s almost 12AM before you return to your apartment, dripping wet because neither of you anticipated the sudden spring shower. You tumble in like wet noodles, giggling like children in hushed whispers as you struggle to find the lightswitch. 

The lights blare on for you, Taehyung’s fingers hanging by the toggle. His hair is wet from the shower, and he looks like he sees a Christmas miracle when he wraps you up in his arms, despite the protest of you being dirty with sand and salt. 

“You dummy, don’t ever scare me like that ever again!” he sobs into your shoulder, and you return the embrace as you pat his head comfortingly. 

“Sorry Tae,” you say, “had to do a little soul-searching.” 

Jungkook rolls his eyes, more like world-searching if anyone were to ask his honest opinion. But Taehyung is looking past your body to mumble a teary ‘thank you’ to Jungkook, and he nods his head politely. 

“Well next time you soul search, you better call.” 

“Done and done.” 

Satisfied that you are going to stay the night and not budge, Taehyung returns to his room. He gives you a good scolding however, and he makes you promise that you’ll give him the full story over breakfast. 

After that bump, Jungkook and you can’t keep your hands off each other. You two shower the grime off your bodies, taking turns shampooing and scrubbing. Even after you’re clean and towel-dried, Jungkook’s fingers fail to untack from your skin, pushing you eagerly to your mattress as he presses kisses along your clothed body. He’s singing against your skin, waxing poetics about how beautiful you are and how much he loves you. 

“Jung—koo, Jungkook,” you say breathlessly, running your fingers through his damp locks, “Taehyung’s in the other room, we can’t be loud.” 

“Don’t,” kiss, “give,” kiss, “a fuck,” Jungkook pants, large hands trailing over your soft skin, memorizing every inch of you, He presses his length against your thigh, insistent, “if this is the last time, we’re going off with fireworks, baby.” 

And with that, you relent. It’s nothing short of electric, the way he takes great care but great power into your pleasure. He takes his time, as if it isn’t the first and last night, tracing every inch of your body because he doesn’t know what the future entails for the both of you. 

You’re equally stung like live-wire, wracking with pleasure as he seals his affirmation to you with sweet nothings, bodies pressed against each other feverently like they’ve always meant to be. Every bit of contact is purposeful, unbridled and overflowing with affection. 

When you’re done you’re both sweaty and almost painfully content, acceptant of the ambiguity of your futures. 

“Jungkook?” you ask, holding his hand tightly.

“Yes, pretty girl?” 

“Will you… fall in love with me again?” 

“Is that even a question?” he balks, leaning forward to peck your nose. He smiles at the way you scrunch your face. “Your office hours are 1-3PM, Mondays and Thursdays in the general library. If you’re not there, you’re teaching the History of Neuroscience in the ARC building on Tuesdays and Thursdays from 10:20 to 12:10. I also know where you live, so.”  

You don’t care how sweaty you are, and tuck your head underneath his chin, needing to be closer. 

“I will find you,” he promises, “hopefully not under my bike the second time around, but I’ll take what I can get.” 

“You’ll have a lot of explaining to do, y’know,” you sigh into his chest, feeling it rumble as your hair dampens. Your hair has dried long ago from the shower, but you know Jungkook’s trying hard to be strong as he cries into your crown, “you should leave before I wake up, just in case.” 

“Hoseok and I will handle it,” Jungkook assures you, “we’re like the Power Rangers, defenders of space and time.” 

“Alright Red Ranger, make sure you’re at least clothed before I wake up, then.” 

He pulls away lightly, seeing your equally red-rimmed eyes and ruddy cheeks. Both of you bump arms as you try to wipe away each other’s tears. The moon continues its power over your bodies, the only source of light in the room. Despite its movement since your time at the beach, it continues to illuminate the room and make the moment glisten with the rhythm of time. 

“You really think this is the end for us, huh?” his voice cracks, his hands cradling your face. 

Stretching to reach him, you press a kiss on every available centimeter of skin on his face. His forehead, his cheeks, his chin, his lips. You take care to kiss the tears away, silently wishing nothing but the best for him. He immediately melts into your touch, and he gives you a teary smile. 

“It’s not the end,” you assure, “it’s our beginning. Thank you, for loving me.” 

Jungkook nods, pressing a long, sweet kiss to your lips. “I can’t wait to fall in love with you again.” 

The two of you sleep like that, not with a goodbye, but with a promise. 

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

W1. 

When you wake up, it’s loud. 

The transition is jarring, painfully so. Gone are your soft flannel comforter, replaced with dry, scratchy sheets that are a poor excuse for bedwear. Your hands are heavy, bounded by the fluids snaking into your bloodstream. Your eyes are crusty and bleary, taking in the plain white and wood room. The sharp sound of the monitor reverberates in your ears, a high-pitched reminder of your slow vitals. 

Everything is painful, confirming that in fact you did get hit by that truck. You give props to your alternate self for dealing with this for the past two months. 

Your eyes dart around the room, taking in the night sky and the full moon looming above you. The only other person in the room is your baby niece, who is just short of five years old. She has since ceased coloring at her little table, her little mouth gaping open like a pufferfish. You make eye contact with her, and she nearly spills over her 64-count Crayola pack as she throws herself off the chair, running over to reach for your hand. 

“Auntie!” she cheers, the biggest smile on her face, “you’re awake! Mama said you were hibernating like bears do, and that you would probably wake up by spring time. She was right!” 

Although it pains you to smile, you manage to squeeze her hand in return. You open your mouth, the inside feeling tacky and gross. “Ah-ah,” you grimace when no sound comes out, just rasps and ghosts of what once was your voice. 

Your niece’s face crumples, and she lets go of you. “Imma go get mama, she’ll bring help!” 

She leaves you alone to succumb to the beeps of your monitors and the pain in your bones. Your fingers grapple the paper-thin sheets, and your gaze drifts to the moon. You think of Jungkook, sleeping blissfully in bed, holding you with so much tenderness and care. In a matter of what felt like minutes since you fell asleep in his arms, disappears just like that. 

The doctors and your family find you hysterically crying, the monitors going crazy as you hyperventilate yourself into a stupor. You feel like you’re choking on air, whatever little tubes in your body restricting access to fully express how torn and conflicted you’re feeling all over again. The medical expertise does work to evacuate your family, chalking your reactions up as your trauma catching up to you and the shock of the past two months hitting you full force. 

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

It’s nearly 3AM when the music cuts out with no explanation, and Jungkook is annoyed. He just got that set down and he finally felt confident in adding facial expressions, but the manager killed the music and now his head is spinning. 

He’s heaving, hands on his head as he tries to get his body back to equilibrium. He watches intently as Namjoon immediately takes the call, not even bothering to leave the studio to answer it. The rest of the members watch as Namjoon��s expressions morph into happiness, combined with short “yes”es and “I understands.” 

Namjoon makes eye contact with Jungkook first and beams, “She’s awake!” 

What originally felt like a hot and stifling room, immediately dissipates into an air of relief. While not all the members may not know you personally, the thought of a fellow co-worker on the road to recovery is enough to ease their exhaustion. 

“What?” Jungkook doesn’t hide it, and collapses on the floor, thoroughly spent for today. “Is she okay?” 

“Well, she actually just passed out. But she’s conscious.” 

“What, why?” Jimin asks, rolling a water bottle over to Jungkook. 

“Doctors say she woke up in a panic, started freaking out when it sunk in that she’s been in a coma since winter.” Jungkook’s heart squeezes painfully of the thought of you scared and feeling trapped in that small hospital bed. 

“Well, can we go see her in the morning?” Jungkook says hopefully, biting his lip. 

“We can’t,” Namjoon confesses, looking down at his shoes in disappointment, “at least not right now. y/n was apparently terrified. The doctors think she’s suffering from some form of PTSD, because she can’t recall anything that happened after she got hit. Her guardians are sending her to a facility for her to process her trauma. It’s in the countryside, and she’s not allowed visitors until she’s fully recovered.” 

Just when Jungkook thinks he has you back, you’re already far from his reach. He should be happy, knowing that you are well on your way to get better. He’s thankful enough that you’re finally awake. But the small, selfish part of him wants to visit you, and comfort you. 

Whether you’ll let him or not is your choice, but this time, he decides he’s going to fight for you. 

[ennui-gt]

Here it is. A Piece Of Borrower Content Written Entirely In Stream Of Consciousness:

AN: so this is incomplete and very…needs revisions to the timeline to incorporate some things I added later! It’s the original universe that Mira’s from! I edited it like Slightly to just change Ross’s name to Ross (if u see Max anywhere that’s his old one I just felt like changing it so that’s just him but different. Anyway) Everything's under the readmore tab, cheers!

The Library Fairy:

-

Basic Plot (Chrono, comic starts from human perspective abt the ‘legend of the library fairy’ ig maybe. Nothing here is permanent cept the characterization)

Part A

1- Mira is borrower currently chillin in a college library

2- She lives off of the cafe on the second floor nd reads lots and lots of stuff about everything when the upper floors close (lower floor open 24/7 but upper floors r vacant p much after 12:00 AM)

3- she starts getting increasingly curious about human stuff cos she’s literate nd books r pry neat

4- it starts one night when she spots an unattended notebook and a half eaten blueberry muffin, nd it’s 12:30 so nobody’s coming back in atm (it’s the 80s so no laptops for the plebians quite yet)

5- so she goes ‘welp’ nd takes part of the muffin, then sees the work on the page and goes ‘hmmmm this is incorrect’ so she helps our and leaves notes here n there to point the kid in the right direction and puts down some book refs for further study bcos at this point she’s been there for 2 years and she knows where most things are

6- she stays behind to see if the human comes back for it, hidden in a hidey hole near the desk

7- human comes in, sees notebook, practically melts w relief nd stuffs it in his bag

8- next day human comes back nd leaves nother notebook and a cookie, along w a hidden camera

9- Mira goes ‘o boy, this a trap, innit’

10- Mira then decides ‘eh whatever I haven’t had contact w anyone in years now so I might as well’

11- she steals the camera film nd leaves a lil scrap of paper saying ‘nice try ;)’ on it

12- student comes back, sees paper, goes ‘dammit’, then leaves note addressed to the ‘library fairy’ and another cookie, as well as more of their work for her to help with

13- bout a decade goes by and now the “Library Fairy” is an urban myth, it’s currently 2003 so she’s also wound up on the school’s unofficial Wikipedia page under ‘local cryptids’

14- most library employees know of her but they don’t go looking out of fear stemming from superstitions bout her, somehow the legend grew from ‘can’t be photographed’ to ‘a student once saw her and died that day’

15- there’s now a small shrine devoted to her where ppl bring offerings hoping to get good grades in return, sometimes they will leave papers for her to proofread nd stuff

16- new prof (named Alexei) finds online article thinks he Knows What’s Up bcos he had a borrower friend as a kid, but they left when borrower’s fam found out about them knowing each other

17- he leaves note wedged in one of her secret entrances behind outlet, asking if she can meet w him at some point

18- Mira, already In it, goes ‘Okay. Alright. This has gone on for long enough. Time to go and never return’ but ofc she’s curious as all hell and like she decides she will at least honor the guy’s request for a convo b4 she goes, but on her terms and w/o speaking face 2 face

19- they Talk in the library after hours, bcos he paid off the janitor to let him stay after hours nd most of the student employees recognize him as a prof nd leave him alone

20- they talk again for every subsequent night

21- she uhhhh finally decides to reveal herself nd prays that her hunch was right nd he won’t try to grab her or anything

22- he doesn’t but she’s nervous so she winds up gettin caught in her own climbing rope like idiot, is now dangling from ceiling in tangled mess

23- he stifles chuckle nd she says smthn sarcastic

24- he moves closer and offers to untangle her

25- she’s like ‘please’

26- so he do, but her grip on the rope slips nd he has to catch her

26- so now she’s in his hand and he just sets her down and now he’s a bumbling embarrassed mess bcos he said he wasn’t going to hold her and he just did and o dear pls forgib him

28- nd she’s like ‘dude u just saved my life it’s fine ur fine chill’

29- internally she’s going HOLY FUCK AAAAAAA but externally, her human’s already worked up enough as it is so she’s gotta b the level headed one

29.5- after a while they both kinda get used to each other more, he gets tenure, they celebrate, some more stuff happens, Aleksei got married (not to Mira, Mira hasn’t actually rly thought about being in a relationship w anyone cos she’s laser focused on gaining as much knowledge as possible)

30- eventually Alexei’s like ‘hey so I’m dean of faculty for the biotech branch now uhhhh would u like actual job teaching students? Cos, uh, you can do it remotely thru online lectures n stuff, no in person interaction, and I uh was just kinda wondering—‘

31- she’s like ‘yes. Yes!!! LET ME HELP PEOPLE OFFICIALLY KINDA’

32- so now she’s a professor, and has revealed her Secret a few times here n there to a number of the faculty, nd she has recorded her own findings in a personal journal

33- ‘humans will treat u like a human if they think ur human first. The kids call it ‘catfishing’’

34- enter Ross, an mall goth who accidentally tripped headfirst into a premed program

35- Mira’s favorite field of study is bio so naturally she’s his prof for a majority of his classes

36- being the good boy that he is, he now knows Mira’s secret. There is an Entire Chapter on him finding out and legit just continuing their conversation as if everything was normal bcos he thought that was how he was supposed to handle the situation

37- then she says ‘u can ask questions, u know’ he’s like OH THANK FUCK CAUSE I HAVE SEVEN HUNDRED OF THOSE

38- and now he kinda knows what to look for in terms of ‘do borrowers live here check yes or no’

39-in his apartment, the answer is yes and he mistakenly kinda stumbles upon the mom one night when he wakes up in the middle of the night for Snack and opts to pretend like its not happening. Unfortunately the thing she was trying 2 borrow (piece of crumb cake for Son Boy’s birthday) is the thing he wants 2 eat so he’s like “uh. ‘Scuse me, ma’am.” and he peels back the saran wrap on the other side of the plate, takes piece, nd then leaves some there for her

40-so now the woman is like ‘welp guess it time 2 Leave’

.1- she and husband Talk

.2-they decide it best 2 go

.3-theyre Packing

.4-lil bab Ellie confused

.5-hawk attacke

.6-cut to Ross

41- Ross also happens to work at a bar and he goes outside for a break

43- he finds smal child—smol smal—on the sidewalk and said child is missing an arm, nd has lost a lot of blood, so he’s uhhhhh Losing It highkey

43.5-parents r nowhere 2 b seen, but the hawk is nearby and circling. Ross gets an idea of what just happened

44- he up and leaves work, thankfully his apartment is above the shop so he jumps up the fire escape w the child and

45- he make tourniquet

46- he calls Mira nd asks her 2 come over to ASAP. he’s A Mess at this point

47- it is Very touch and go, kid needs blood, Mira is the only viable donor so she’s just gotta pray that the blood type is fine and won’t kill him

48- and then eventually they manage 2 stave infection thru antibiotics properly dosed to his size, Mira does Math and Prays basically

49- ‘bout a month in, kid wakes up

50- kid doesn’t rember much since he’s only 3

51- hes v scared of Ross at first but over time he gets used 2 the human

52- kid (elliot) starts 2 call Ross ‘dad’ after a while

53- Ross: *internal screaming but in a good way*

54- the end kinda for now

Part 2

A- New Borrowers In The Building

—three of em. paranoid dad, mom, nd daughter that’s Elliot’s age so he’s pumped

B- Elliot offers them a place 2 stay briefly

C- he knows by now bout like, how borrowers don’t typically interact w humans and Auntie Mira’s a bit of a weird case so he just doesn’t tell em bout his dad being the human

D- the kid finds out first nd doesn’t tell the parents, but they figure it out later kinda and think that it’s a ‘o god he’s being kept as a pet’ sitch so they’re >:| abt it

E- they move out and try to take Elliot w them (by force bcos they think he’s brainwashed) but he escapes and makes it to Ross, who’s like “uhhhhhh”

F- and the mom come out the hole near the counter n starts yelling at Ross, who is…kinda used to it since Mira brings in ppl who need help from time 2 time and they typically don’t react well when they’re lucid enough to understand what’s going on. He’s just not used to being questioned about his own kid

G- so they’re like “WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING WITH HIM”

H- and he’s like “r…raising him???”

I- and Ellie steps up and he’s like “this is my dad. I decided he was my dad when I was three. He’s being a good parent”

J- and Ross is like “yeah what he said. I’m a good parent.”

K- Ross is riding that high til the end of fucking time but like back to the story at hand

L- this is when the husband comes out nd is like “lissen. wifey. ily but that is a very big human and he hasn’t grabbed us yet so let’s count our blessings and gtfo”

M- but she’s like “uh no we stay until I’m sure Elliot is Safe and fucking Sound”

N- so they stay for dinner nd stick around a little longer.

O- Val (the kid) gets closer 2 Elliot and also Ross a bit

P- Mira shows once or twice, first time she shows up they’re like “oh god it’s the crazy doctor lady this all makes sense now” (bcos Mira does check up on as many borrower families as possible in her free time so word has got around by now Of her, and the number by which to contact her in case her services r needed)

Q- After a month or so, then they decide to leave bcos they’re like “look we get that ur son is ur son and he only has one arm and in our profession that is kind of a death sentence but we can’t have our kid getting used to dealing w humans who know about our existence” so they go and leave on a kind of sour note bcos Ellie can do anything he wants to do just as well as any other borrower Thank You Very Much and Ross is ready to fite anyone who thinks otherwise

R- Elliot starts trying 2 b more independent, basically from now on he’s like ‘I can do everything my Damn Self Thanks’

S- but uh he does it to a point where he’s going out of the way to endanger himself

T- so they get into a fite about it and ross Yells and Elliot is like ‘kthxbye’

U- and the boi just. Fuckin bolts. Runs Away. Ross is a Mess, he starts smoking again (he quit cold turkey the day he took Elliot in) to curb the depression, he’s jus. Not doin good, worried that his son is dead and the last time they talked it’d ended badly

V- FREEDOM!!!1! Except Ellie doesn’t kno how to take care of himself so it’s a rough month or so and then he runs into some other borrowers livin in their own town in the wild ig, chillin, being hella independent, and he’s like “uh yes ofc I will join u, I was w my dad for a while but.........” he neither confirms nor denies that his dad’s dead but everyone kinda just assumes.

Part 3

W-anyway a year goes by and then the borrower group gets hit hard w some kind of sickness ig. Elliot gets it too he’s basically incapacitated n drifting in and out of lucidity. So. They contact the weird crazy doctor lady who hangs around humans, a.k.a. Mira, and she’s like “oh. fuck. I know this kid.” bcos she does, u kno, and she jus treats em all for their ailment and shows them how to make antibiotic poultice thing in case smthn like it happens again. Mold. Penicillin is basically what it is

X-she and Elliot hav a Chat (Mira basically yells at him a lot) once he’s fixed up and he decides he’s gonna visit his dad but he makes it very clear that he is a Grown Up (he’s not, he’s literally sixteen), and he is living on his own now

Y- he agrees to stay for a week tho since he misses his home a lot tbh and Ross is just. Over the fucking moon to know he’s ALIVE, he’s not gonna fuck up their relationship by insisting that he stay. Or like, by keeping him ofc he would never

Z- unfortunately the borrower community put two and two together and figured out his dad’s human so they have his stuff packed up when he gets back w mira, who’s ready to go the fuck off on them

End 1:

-Ellie is living at Ross’s place atm and hopeful about the future basically. He eventually will go off on his own but he’ll keep in contact w his dad and stuff

Part C.5

55- few yrs later

56- elliot is Adult now he does adult borrower stuff

57- he moves out

58- finds nice borrower gf (her name’s Tess)

59- doesn’t tell her about his dad being human but talks about his dad a LOT

60- so when she asks to meet said father he’s just like “uh. Maybe we don’t do that actually”

61- and she’s like “y tho”

62- and he’s like “bcos”

63- anyway she decides to look into it cos she knows he goes to see his dad nd keep in touch but his dad is allegedly “a recluse who lives in the big scary human’s walls to avoid other ppl”

64- which is. Not true in the slightest tbqh he’s def not an introvert he’s just a workaholic and he Is the big scary human

65- anywho they run into Val and her wife and she’s like “how’s Ross been?” And Elliot is acting Very Suspish so she, being Smart, calls it immediately and is like “oh shit u haven’t told her yet have u”

66- Tess: “told me what”

67- Val: “El’s dad is a human, bro.”

68- Tess: “I’m sorry?”

69- this results in a Big Fight and they separate for like, a month. Elliot blames Val bcos he’s being irrational and doesn’t wanna admit to the fact that lying to his girlfriend for over a year was Real Bad Actually, but over time he’s like ‘yeah it’s my fault sry for snapping at u’ cos he works thru his emotions n stuff

70- Eventually gf comes back cos she’s like “ok so. I understand why you lied to me about your dad. It was a dick move but I do get it and I still care about you a lot. I would like. To meet him.”

80- this is a lie she does not want to meet him she is doing this bcos she does not want to lose Elliot and that outweighs the fear of his dad

81- so they go to meet him but she’s just kinda. Behind the wall at first like “that’s a crazy big human this is crazy ur crazy it’s time to gO”

82- Val is also there bcos she hasn’t seen Ross in a while

83- they eventually coax her out of hiding

84- and by that I mean Val picks her up and drags her out into the open by force bcos she basically freezes up the second she catches sight of Ross and Val’s like “u didn’t come all this way for nothing, bich”

85- they have a Painfully Awkward First Meeting, Tess is trying her best but oh god he’s just too fucking. Larg. Ellie ur dad too big

86- tbh tho the ice kinda breaks after Ellie and Ross get into a fight over smthn stupid (im thinking Elliot grumbles bout Ross’s hair being unruly and he’s worried that mira’s using it like a personal storage system again and Ross is like “I’ve been keeping better track of that actually” and then like a little line of paper clips and a few hand-bound notebooks tied together w some string fall out of his fucking mane and he’s like “I can explain”

87- “dad you can’t keep letting her use your hair like a fucking NEST”

88- Tess is laughing now cos god damn this was not what she was expecting

89- that’s it the end it ends w Tess laughing at them being idiots good times r had by all

Uhhhh that’s it so far. I have More but it’s kinda jumbled rn and I need to fit stuff in places. Anyway.

[fresafresitawrites]

paloma’s cards and water

my latest creative writing assignment! adding onto the next series of my vignettes! involving my oc andrew as the main boi. u can find them all here  this one is a lil long but my prof really liked it so im happy w it. rest is under the read more! id be so happy if anyone reads this slkajf inspired by tarot reading, my grandma, and that one chapter in the house on mango street w the tarot reader 

I was on the first floor of my building getting the mail when I heard my downstairs neighbor sweeping her entrance mat.

“Buenos días, m’hijito.” Her voice was like the strum of a guitar.

“Buenas, Señora Paloma.” I replied. I gave her a quick glance as I skimmed a letter about my academic probation from last semester.

She set the broom aside and looked up at me.

“Ah, so formal now that you’re older, and taller too. You’re always getting taller and taller.” I’m only five foot six, five foot eight when anyone asks. “I haven’t seen you too much lately.”

“Oh, disculpe.” I crammed the envelopes into my messenger bag. Most of them were junk anyway, like dollar store advertisements or auto companies offering me a car loan. “I’ve just had a lot on my mind, a lot going on with school and work and everything.” I closed the mailbox unit.

“Ay, perdón, Señor Ibarra,” she teased. Somewhere after I turned eighteen, I went from calling her Mama Lola to using formalities. “Do you have some time, actually? I need help with something, si puedes.”

I checked my phone. I had work in an hour. “Sí sí sí, yeah, whatdya need?” I cracked my knuckles. Usually, she just wanted me to move furniture or get something from the top shelf of her kitchen cabinets, like the blender she used during the summer to make watermelon juice. Her oldest son also bought her an iPad for Christmas three years ago when he visited from Buffalo, and I’ve memorized the passcode after troubleshooting it for her so many times.

Paloma waved me inside her one-bedroom apartment, two floors directly underneath my family’s. We lived in an old house with four floors that probably used to belong to one rich family in the nineteenth century but was now broken up into several apartments. Paloma’s door was the first one on the ground floor across from the staircase. Her apartment always smelled like dryer sheets, and the television was always on some Spanish talk show, and water was always boiling over the kitchen stove because she didn’t trust the pipes. The yellow walls were adorned with Mexican folk paintings, plastic floral garlands, and family photos attached with Scotch tape. In every corner there were figurines of Catholic saints.

A few years ago, I asked Paloma to watch Sofi and Eli for me. I had tickets to see The Strokes at Madison Square Garden and only that morning did I double check the date of the concert. My mom was at a student’s piano recital, and I agreed a week earlier to watch the girls that night.

I was carrying Eli in one arm and held Sofi’s hand with the other outside Paloma’s door. The girls were four at the time, so I just gave them each twenty bucks to never say anything.

“Hmm!” Paloma lifted her eyebrows and crossed her arms. “And you think your momma won’t find out?”

I thought about it. “Well, don’t tell her.”

Paloma laughed, squinting her dark eyes like a fox.

Thankfully, Ma’s train got delayed on the way home that night.

In Paloma’s kitchen, two Devil’s Ivy plants sat in the sink with their vines trailing over the edge, hesitating to touch the tile floor. On the left was the glass door to her own small patio, where a few stray cats lay across the concrete. Paloma pointed to her wooden breakfast table, leaving her broom aside, so I pulled out a chair.

She sat down across from me, laying a purple and gold silk cloth between us and placed two tea lights on each side.

“Oh, is this what you wanted me for?” I sat up, surprised. She tied her long, gray-brown hair into a bun.

Paloma has never tried to use her cards on me before. I was never interested in these things. Hemera was the one who came to visit often after her break-up during freshman year with this film studies major, Vladimir, who played the accordion and was originally from Portland. Hemera and Paloma would lean over the tarot cards, speaking low, like candleflames. I usually sat on the couch and watched Looney Tunes, since Boomerang was one of the only channels on Paloma’s television other than the news or Telemundo.

“How’s your friend?” Paloma asked as if she read my mind. “Is she your girlfriend yet? Or has she found someone?” She pulled out the deck of cards from her apron pocket and shuffled them.

            “Oh, no, she’s okay. She’s doing okay.” Hemera told me two weeks ago she was “focusing on herself” which meant she deleted Tinder and would reactivate it within the next week. “And nah, she’s like a sister to me. That’d be weird.”

            Paloma watched me. “You cold?”

            “What? No…” Well, now that she mentioned it… ‘Actually, yeah, kind of, maybe.” I zipped up my wool sweater. Was there a breeze?

            “Good.” She spread the cards out with her delicate hands. “That means the spirits are here.”

            “Uh, okay. Sure, Paloma. They are.” I tried not to sound too sarcastic.

            I closed my eyes and hovered my left hand over the fanned-out cards, mimicking how Hemera used to do it. I tapped three random cards and Paloma flipped them over.

            She read them out loud. “El ermitaño, la rueda de la fortuna, y la muetre.”

            The late February sun casted a soft glow over the kitchen like a dream.

            “Your past, present, and future cards.” Paloma’s tone shifted into something softer, as if her words descended from the clouds. “Ah, look at you. Always keeping to yourself, always, always. Like the old man here on the card… alone on the mountain, holding a lantern trying to illuminate his path.”

            I tilted my head.

            “Right now, you’re in a critical position. It’s a marvelous position to be in! See all the arrows on the wheel going in all directions? They can lead you anywhere. You just steer the wheel like the helm of a sailboat and go wherever the wind takes you. How exciting!”

             I leaned forward. I examined the card that depicted what looked like a large, gold coin covered in strange symbols and surrounded by hybrid animals and angel figures.

            “And here, look, don’t be afraid of this last one. Everyone’s always afraid of this card, but don’t take it too literal. This card means transformation, it means upheaval, it means purging, it means endings.

            I picked up the card, fixated on the small boy kneeling before the skeleton-knight riding a white horse. I put the card back down.

            “This sounds… vague.” I leaned back in my chair, half skeptical and half on edge from her reading, but I didn’t want her to know the last part. “I thought you’d tell me something terrible would happen, or something like who I’m going to marry or whatever. Not that I would believe it, but I’m just wondering why you wanted me here right now.”

            Paloma smiled and crossed her arms. She’d been expecting this reaction. “It’s not like that. It’s not a math test, like in school. There are no right or wrong answers here. I know you don’t like that. Frustrating, no?”

            “Yeah, a little.”

            “Half of the work is you. It’s like looking at art or reading poetry. You’re participating. You’re drawing your own conclusions.” She placed the deck back into her pocket. “You have to marinate on the words, m’hijo. Everything will reveal itself.”

            I took a deep breath, swung my bag over my shoulder, and checked my phone.

            I had work in five minutes.    

[fairylightsandchai]

The Internship - Part 1

A/N: Hello! I know I usually don’t post fanfiction to this blog, but I really wanted to participate in @darkficsyouneveraskedfor​‘s Pre-Code Challenge! Just ignore this if you follow me and you’re not interested. 

Pairing: Dark!Professor!Steve Rogers x Reader

Words: >10K

Summary: You are a student in the former-Captain America’s American History class, and you soon notice that Professor Rogers has been paying more than a professional amount of attention to you. But when he approaches you with an internship opportunity that’s too good to be true, how can you say no? 

(A/N: This fic contains non-con elements, stalking, and manipulation, and in later parts it will inclue rape, breeding kink, and kidnapping. It is also inspired by The Wild Party, a film from 1929. I hope you enjoy, and please let me know what you think.) 

           You had always wanted to be a writer. When you were a little girl, you’d spent most of your time with your nose in a book and your head in the clouds, dreaming of the day when you would tell stories of your own, stories that connected with people all over the globe.

           And then the Battle of New York had happened.

           You had been in high school during the attack, a shy freshman who had only wanted to blend in and disappear amongst the rest of your classmates. You’d still had your dreams of being a bestselling author someday.

           But, like so many other things in your small, sheltered world, all of that changed the day the Chitauri invaded. You hadn’t been in the city at the time; you’d grown up in upstate New York, about an hour away from the busy metropolis, but it had still shaken your small town to its foundations. It was too close to home, too huge for you and your neighbors to comprehend.

           After it had happened, you spent less time dwelling on fiction and more time focused on the truth; the nonfiction isles of your school’s library became your second home, and you were always the first one in your family to read the Sunday paper. You followed current events almost obsessively, imagining one day having your name printed on the New York Post under a ground-breaking story that would define the rest of your career – the rest of your life.  

           You had not, however, counted on having one of the Avengers as your professors in college, and yet here you were, stood outside the history building of Columbia University with binder in hand, a syllabus and class schedule tucked inside of it.

You hadn’t realized that you would need to take classes on subjects other than writing – you’d known about the needed electives for your course, obviously, but most of them were somehow linked to writing, be it creatively or informatively. Your required history credit had surprised you, though, and your surprise only doubled as you’d scrolled through the available history courses on your student Blackboard account and found a name that stood out amongst the rest. American History (157) – Professor Steven Grant Rogers.

At first you’d chuckled at the coincidence and signed up for it without thinking, but after you’d been accepted into the course, after you’d read and studied its syllabus, you’d started researching your various professors only to find that Professor Steven Grant Rogers…was actually THE Steven Grant Rogers. As in, Captain America himself. As in, one of the people who had fought against the Chitauri and inspired you to seek out journalism.

           And now you were about to walk into his class.

           Letting out a deep sigh, you pushed a strand of your hair out of your eyes and adjusted your cardigan before pushing open the door of the classroom and stepping inside. Looking around, you only noticed a handful of other students, but then again you had arrived fifteen minutes early for class. Your eyes scanned each of their faces before finally meandering to the front of the classroom, immediately picking out the shape of your professor sitting at his desk.

           Even with him sitting behind his desk, you could tell that he was huge. His shoulders were broad, and the fabric of his light blue shirt strained against them as he hunched over, jotting something into a leather notebook. His hair was neat and trimmed, and he had grown out a beard since his retirement from the Avengers. It looked good on him, you mused, but in the middle of your thoughts he turned and looked at you, his piercing blue eyes looking directly into yours, and you froze where you stood.

           You saw his eyes widen for a split second while he took you in, but before you could register the shift in his expression he had put on an easy smile, giving you a small nod.

           “Welcome,” Professor Rogers spoke, his voice warm and genuine.

           You, for your part, answered with an incredibly smooth and well-thought-out response.

           “U-um…” you stammered, shifting on your feet. “Hello.”

           Feeling your cheeks heat up in embarrassment, you ducked your head and darted to the first row of desks and sank into one, willing your heart to stop its infernal pounding. As you silently cursed yourself for being so nervous, you opened your binder and pulled out the only two sheets of paper in it along with your spiral bound notebook before reaching into your backpack and rooting around for a pen.

           He’s just a person, you lectured yourself internally. A person who has saved the world on more than one occasion, but a person, nonetheless. He probably gets tired of people acting differently around him just because he’s-            “Do you need a copy of the syllabus?”

           The voice came from in front of you, and your head popped up to see Professor Rogers standing in front of your desk holding a stack of papers. He held one out to you, but you quickly smiled and picked your syllabus off of your desk.

           “Oh, no, thanks! I printed one off last night,” you explained. “But thank you.”

           His smile grew, and he walked back to his desk, setting the papers back down.

           “You’re prepared; I’m glad to hear it.”

           The minutes ticked by after that, a slow but steady line of students filing into the class as its start time grew nearer. You gauged your peers’ reactions curiously, observing as some hardly seemed to recognize your professor while a few others stopped to ask for a selfie with him. The first time that happened, your eyes had widened their bold question, but the former Avenger bared it gracefully, simply shaking his head and giving them a smile.

           “If it’s all the same to you, I’d like to hold off on that till the end of class,” he’d say. “If you still want one after we’re all done then just stay behind for a few minutes.”

           Finally the clock read 10:30 and Professor Rogers made his way to the front of the desk, right in front of the empty, clean whiteboard. He took a few moments to look out over the full classroom, taking in all of the students before him. When his eyes landed on you, you swore that you saw him linger for a moment, a curious gleam resting in his eyes before he looked away and opened his mouth to speak.

           “Well, everyone, it’s time to get started,” he began. “As you probably know by now, my name is Steve Rogers, and this class is dedicated to American History from 1914 to 1939. I’d like to just say right off the bat that I’m happy to have all of you in my class, and I hope that this course is informative and helpful to each of your personal fields of study.

           “Now to address the elephant in the room,” he said, starting to pace slowly, “yes, I was alive during most of that period of time, and I did use to be known as Captain America. But I hung up that hat a few years ago, and I’d appreciate it if you showed me the same courtesy and respect that you show your other professors. That being said, I don’t want you to hesitate to ask me any personal questions you may have as long as they relate to what we’re discussing in class. Any off topic questions should be kept to yourselves or saved for after we are finished for the day.

           “Any questions?”

           There was a moment of silence as he searched for any raised hands.

           “Is the shield as heavy as it looks?” someone called from the back row, and a few snickers could be heard from around the room.

           Professor Rogers let out a chuckle of his own and pointed to the student who’d asked.

           “That is a great example of a question that should be saved for after class.”

____________

           Steve waved goodbye to the last of his students, only minorly annoyed at how many had stayed late to take a picture with him. As he packed up his things and prepared to head to his office for the rest of the day, he mused that he should have been used to it by now. With social media so prominent in society these days, he’d been hounded for selfies ever since 2012, but they were still (and probably would always be) aggravating to him.

           He didn’t linger on that today, though; he had so many other important things to think about, after all. And most of them revolved around you.

           A smile twisted his features as he remembered how you’d looked when you’d first walked into his class – so shy and hesitant but just as gorgeous as always. He’d been so pleased to see you wearing your long green cardigan today; it was one of his favorites. Mostly because of that time he’d seen you walking around your little apartment wearing nothing but your bra and panties under it, but he had to admit that you’d looked almost just as sexy wearing it with those brown leggings you’d had on today.

           As he made his way across campus to the building his office was in, he didn’t even try to hide the smirk on his face; he finally had accomplished the first part of his plan. He’d hoped to have you in his class sooner, but it had been hard finding someone to hack into the school records to add that history credit to your list of prerequisites. Well, rather, it had been hard finding someone discreet enough to get the job done. Plenty of his friends would have been able to do it without any problem; hell, Tony probably had done that exact same thing in the past. But they would have asked questions, and he couldn’t afford to have people poking around in something that didn’t concern them.

           A part of Steve knew that this wasn’t the right way of going about having you; the Steve from before Thanos would have been disgusted with his actions, absolutely repulsed at what he was planning to do. But after the snap, after he’d watched so many people he’d cared about turn to dust, something in him had changed. He’d tried so hard, so goddamn hard, to do the right thing, but in the end it hadn’t been good enough to stop everything from happening. And even now, after Thanos was dead and the fallen had been brought back, he was still different than before. He’d done the right thing his entire life, and all he’d gotten from it was heartache.

           But now he would finally claim what he deserved. He would claim you.

           The first time he’d seen you, it had been in the campus coffee shop. He had only been teaching for a year at the time, and he hadn’t foreseen how overwhelming it could be. While the students were cramming and stressing over finals, he was clamoring to compile the perfect exam for his class, the perfectionist in him never fully satisfied and constantly worrying if he had enough questions, if they were balanced enough, if they were too easy or too hard or irrelevant to the course.

           Basically, he had been frazzled, and all he’d wanted was a small black coffee and a corner booth at the café to work on his laptop in. But then he’d seen you.

You were sitting at a table with a girl around your age, and the two of you were laughing about something; it must have been hilarious, because your head was thrown back and your eyes were closed as your laugh bubbled out of your smiling lips. It was in that moment that he knew that love at first sight existed. Every love song he’d ever heard had suddenly sounded in his ears, and he stood there as if frozen as he watched you, his eyes already straining to remember every little detail about your face.            

After that day, he’d started seeing you on campus more and more often, though that might have been because he was following you. In his mind, though, it wasn’t following. It was…researching. He had to know if he’d been mistaken, if that electric feeling he’d felt upon seeing you had somehow been something other than love at first sight.

But as days turned to weeks turned to months of him following you, of him watching you while you were none the wiser, he knew that he hadn’t been mistaken. It seemed fell for you more and more with everything he learned about you and your life. Your body, your mind, your very soul seemed to be meant for him.

There was a problem, though. On the third day of him watching you, you and your friend from the café (he’d learned that her name was Tina) had gone to the library to study together, and he’d overheard you telling her something that made his heart sink.            “So… You’ve been in college for a year now,” Tina had started, and you’d groaned, knowing where she was going even before she said anything else.

“No, Tina,” you sighed.

“What! I’m just wondering when you’re planning on finding yourself a man,” your friend insisted as you rolled your eyes.

“Is never a viable answer?”

“No – you and I both know it’s not. C’mon, you’ve talked about wanting to meet your dream man since high school!”

“Well, yeah, I’ve talked about it,” you’d said. “Talking about something and actually doing it are two different things, babe.”

“I knowww,” Tina had sighed. “But c’mon, now is the time to be looking for people to share a future with.”

You’d snorted a bark of laughter at that.

“It most certainly is not,” you’d countered. “I need to focus on my career right now, Tina. Even IF I met Mr. Right, I’m not gonna start a serious relationship until after college. I gotta put myself first right now.”

“I guess I see where you’re coming from,” she’d huffed. “I get it. But you could just, you know…fool around, right? College is the time for experimentation! Don’t you wanna get that cherry popped before you graduate?”

“TINA!”

“What!” your friend had laughed. “I know you’re dying to turn in that v-card of yours.”

Steve had had to stop listening at that point. With a muffled curse, he’d turned on his heel and all but fled from the library, feeling his heart soar and shatter all at once. On one hand, that same sick part of him that was driving his actions was all but singing; if your friend had been telling the truth, then you were a virgin. His (Y/N) really was a good girl – something that was rare to find these days, especially in young college girls. A sweet, innocent girl just like he’d always dreamed about starting a family with.

But, on the other hand, you were determined to hold off on relationships until the end of college. And even if you’d be willing to let Steve be the exception to that rule, that still didn’t change the fact that you were a student and he was a member of the faculty; he would not only lose his job if the two of you were found out, but he was sure that reporters and journalists would jump at the opportunity to write an exposé  about Captain America taking advantage of a student at the university he taught at.

No, he would have to be smart about this. He knew he didn’t want to wait for you to finish your four-year degree, but he also couldn’t risk either of your reputations with some kind of forbidden relationship, if you’d even have him. He would have to think this through. He would have to come up with a plan.

___________

You were surprised at how quickly you got used to having Captain America as a teacher. You would still get nervous when he spoke directly to you, of course, but the insight he had to offer was priceless. It was one thing to learn about a period of history from a textbook, but it was another thing entirely to learn about it from someone who was actually there.

Professor Rogers was knowledgeable and kind to all of his students, and your favorite parts of his lectures were when your classmates would raise their hands and ask him about what it was like to live during whatever part of history you were learning about. You’d learned about Captain America and his backstory in high school history classes, of course, but the way he would answer those personal questions showed a whole different side of him. But you were starting to wonder if that new side of him was as golden as his status as a hero made him out to be.

Recently, something seemed a little bit off about him, as much as you hated to admit it. It only would happen in brief little flashes, so brief that immediately after you would find yourself questioning whether or not it had actually happened, but you could swear that he’d been…staring a lot recently. Specifically, he would be staring at you.

More and more often in class, you would start to feel like you were being watched; it was if you could sense eyes on you just out of the corner of your vision, and it would make your hairs stand on end. Usually, you would turn and see nothing out of the ordinary, and you would be able to chalk it up to an overactive imagination. But every now and then, you would turn and see Professor Rogers staring at you, his jaw clenched and his eyes dark.

As soon as it would happen, his expression would clear into a neutrally polite smile, and you always tried to return it to the best of your ability. But as the weeks went by, it was happening more and more frequently. And then there were the touches.

Mr. Rogers never touched you in an inappropriate way; you were almost certain that he never would. But whenever he would collect your papers, or whenever he would pass out assignments, his hand would always seem to linger. Sometimes, he would let his fingertips drag against yours as he took whatever you were handing to him; sometimes, he would set his hand on your shoulder for the briefest of moments when you dropped an assignment off with him before leaving class.

He’d also started commenting about your appearance at the beginning of class. From the moment you walked in the door to the moment you sat down in your seat, he’d manage to make some comment on your outfit. The first time he’d said something was on one of the many occasions where you were wearing your favorite cardigan.

“You look very nice today, (Y/N),” he’d mentioned in passing, almost making you stumble on your way to your seat. You’d barely managed to stutter out a ‘thank you’. After that, it happened every time you saw him, and some part of your mind whispered that he never complimented your classmates the way he would compliment you.

“I like how you did your hair this morning,” he’d said the next time.

“Like the new jeans, (Y/N),” the week after. (How had he even known those jeans were new?)

“That’s a nice color on you.”

“Looking lovely as always.”

You did love having Professor Rogers as your teacher, but each class with him made you feel increasingly uncomfortable despite your best efforts. In your mind, you knew that you were reading too much into it, but that was never able to stop you from feeling a cold shiver run up your back when you’d see him glaring at you from behind his desk.

           Despite your growing anxiety about your history professor, though, you were settling in quite nicely to your day to day routine. Your favorite days were Fridays, though; you spent your afternoons right before the weekend with your best friend, Tina. She had been your friend since junior year of high school, and while the two of you were opposites when it came to most things, the bond you shared was strong and deep.

           This Friday, however, she’d had to cancel your weekly study session; Tina was in Columbia’s dental department, and every now and then her and the other aspiring dentists would do volunteer events to help people in the surrounding area get free dental care. You were always proud of her when she took part in events like those, but you always felt a little lonelier on Friday afternoons.

           After spending the morning sleeping in and meal prepping for the week, you set out on your way to the library without your best friend in tow; you would just have to study on your own that week, especially with the first test of the semester looming over you in Mr. Roger’s class. He was kind to his students, yes, but he was also demanding. He’d made it abundantly clear that he expected quality work out of his students.

           “This is an advanced class,” he would say. “I expect you to be advanced learners.”

           Pulling your heavy wool jacket tighter around your body, you trudged into the library and sat at yours and Tina’s regular table towards the back, opening your history textbook and busting out your favorite blue highlighter; this would be a study session of the ages, not interrupted by anything or anybody-

           “(Y/N), is that you?”

           …Maybe you’d spoken too soon.

           Looking up, you saw none other than the man whose class you were about to be studying for. Professor Rogers was walking over to you with one hand in his pocket; in his other rested a copy of The Book Thief by Markus Zusak, and you smiled as you read its title.

           “Hi, Professor,” you greeted him. You made to stand up out of your chair, but before you could he took his hand out of his pocket and set it on your shoulder, squeezing it lightly.

           “Oh, no, don’t get up on my account. What brings you here today? Got a big test coming up or something?”

           You forced a weak smile to your lips, acutely aware that his hand was still on your shoulder.

           “Oh, yeah,” you managed to joke. “One of my pesky teachers is giving us a test next Thursday.”

           “Who does he think he is?” your teacher chuckled. Finally, he let his hand slide off of your shoulder, and you once again looked at the book he was holding.

           “The Book Thief?” you asked, nodding to it. “Are you checking it out?”

           “Oh! Yeah. For the second time, actually. It’s one of my favorites.”

           “Really? It’s one of my favorites too!”

           Steve grinned, even though he’d already known that. He’d read most of the books you had on your shelf at home; at first, he’d done it to try and draw closer to you, to see what kind of stories you liked. But after a while he just did it because you had good taste; the only book of yours that had disappointed him was a cheesy teenager romance you’d had since high school, but even then he thought it was adorable that you found enjoyment in such things.

           “It sure is a small world, huh?” he drawled, pulling out the chair across the table from yours. “Do you mind if I join you for a little while?”

           You hesitated, looking between the chair he was already half sitting in and the charming smile he had on his face. Something about the whole thing seemed off to you, but you shook away that feeling and nodded your head.

           “Be my guest,” you finally said, and your professor didn’t hesitate to sink into his seat.

           “Thanks, doll.”

           You felt your cheeks heat up at that and quickly gave him what you hoped was more of a convincing smile.

           “N-no problem, Mr. Rogers,” you hurriedly assured him. A smirk stretched across his lips as he reached across the table, letting his hand rest on the back of yours.

           “I’ll never get used to people calling me that,” he chuckled. “How about you just call me Steve when we’re not in class?”

           Your eyes widened and you gulped, eyes flickering between his face and his hand, so warm against yours.

           “Wouldn’t that be, uh… unprofessional?” Your voice was higher pitched than usual as you said it, and it only made his smile grow.

           “Not if we kept it our little secret. You wouldn’t tell anyone, would you?”

           He arched his eyebrows questioningly at you, and for some reason you immediately shook your head.

           “No, I… I wouldn’t tell anyone, Prof- Steve.”

           Steve tried his best to keep his face neutral, but on the inside, he felt like fire works were going off in his head upon hearing you say his name. He knew it would sound sweet in your soft voice, and if it sounded good now, he couldn’t imagine how nice it would be to hear you moan it. One day, he promised himself. One day.

           You squirmed in your seat as Professor Ro- Steve, you told yourself, Steve – watched you. After a few seconds of silence you hesitantly leaned forward.

           “Steve?”

           He seemed to snap back to reality, and once more his ever-present smile was carefully arranged on his face.

           “Sorry, sorry,” he said, clearing his throat. “I, uh… Zoned out there for a second.”

           “It’s ok,” you assured him. “I do that in your class all the time.”

           “Hey,” he laughed, “C’mon, that’s not nice.”

           You chuckled at your own joke and shrugged.

           “I’m just joking,” you assured him.

           “Oh, I don’t know,” he grinned. “Maybe that’s why you and Tina are always studying together.”

           You opened your mouth to defend yourself, but something stopped you from saying anything. Something about what he’d just said didn’t quite make sense, you told yourself.

           Steve furrowed his brows at the look on your face.

           “You ok over there, doll?”

           “Y-yeah,” you nodded rapidly, turning to collect your things as alarm bells kept going off in your head. “I’m fine. I actually just remembered something; I have to go.”

           “Go? So soon? I didn’t chase you off, did I?” His lips were lifted into a half-smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes as he watched you pack up your books.

           “Oh, no!” you were quick to exclaim. “No, not at all! I just… I just left one of my textbooks at home. I’m so stupid.”

           You finally slung your bag over your shoulder and made to leave, but all of a sudden there was an iron-like grip encircling your upper arm. You whipped your head around so quickly that for a moment your hair obscured your vision. When you shook it away, you saw Steve watching you with slightly narrowed eyes, his smirk still on his lips.

           For a moment, you just stared at him, feeling your heartbeat quicken as his thumb idly rubbed circles against your bicep.

           “Don’t call yourself stupid,” he finally muttered, letting his hand fall. “You’re a smart girl, (Y/N). I’m sure you’re just feeling a little…overwhelmed. From your classes, that is.”

           You nodded numbly, taking a small step backwards, taking yourself out of arm’s reach.

           “Y-yeah… That must be it. Sorry, Steve.”

           You turned and walked away, just barely catching his next few words.

           “No problem, hon.”

           You felt his eyes on you all the way out of the library, and the feeling didn’t go away until you fell asleep that night, the sound of his voice echoing in your ears and the line of his smile still etched behind your eyelids. Just before you drifted off, it suddenly came to you, the reason why you’d felt such a sudden need to leave him.

           How had he known that you were friends with Tina?

_____

           Steve sighed as he sank into his armchair, watching you fall asleep through his telescope; one day he would really have to talk to you about leaving your blinds open.

           Once he was sure you were asleep for the night, he looked around his small apartment, thinking about your little study session in the library. When you’d left in such a hurry, he’d felt angry at first, just barely able to keep himself from snapping at you to sit back down. It was rude to just run off like that, after all.

           But then he’d heard your heartbeat, pounding away in your soft, sweet chest, and he’d understood: you were nervous around him. The fact had made him so giddy that he’d excused your impolite behavior this time, letting you go and waiting a few minutes before following you back to your apartment. You were nervous around him, and he was willing to bet it was because of your feelings. He’d been watching you even closer than usual for the past month, watching how you’d squirm in your seat in class when your eyes met his, feeling your quickening pulse anytime his hand lingered on yours.

           You were starting to fall for him, he just knew it.

           He stood up from his armchair, wandering over to his tiny kitchen and grabbing a beer for himself. It would all be worth it someday – the tiny apartment he’d bought just to be closer to you, the time he’d dedicated to watching you each day, the expensive hidden bugs he’d planted in your house so he could listen in on your life. One day, when you were well and truly his, he would move out of this apartment and buy a home for the two of you, one big enough for the family you would have.

           He could see it even now as he settled back into his favorite chair, peeking through the telescope to glance at your sleeping form. One day, you would be able to quit your silly dream of journalism and be his wife, focusing on him and the children you would have. Oftentimes, Steve would imagine five or six little kids running around the house, even though he knew it was unreasonable to think of such things.

           You guys would stop at four, he’d decided.

           His cock twitched in his sweatpants at the idea of you round and swollen with his child. You would be such a good mother, such a good wife. You would be everything he’d ever wanted.

           With a sigh, he took his cock out, stroking it leisurely as he kept your eyes on your face, peaceful and oblivious as you slept on. He hoped you were dreaming about him, fantasizing about him the way he was fantasizing about you right now.

           He let out a soft moan at the idea of what your first time together would be like. You would lead him into your bedroom, hand in his as your hips swayed with your stride. He would sit on the edge of the bed as you stripped, watching as each delicious inch of your skin was slowly revealed to him. You would be wearing white, lacy lingerie, as pure and unsullied as your body.

           His hand moved faster on his cock as he imagined what you’d taste like, what it would be like to have his face buried between your legs, his tongue delving into your tight, wet heat as you bucked and squirmed against him. You’d pull his hair and moan his name, your voice getting higher and breathier the closer you got to your release.

           But he wouldn’t give it to you, oh no. Not with his tongue at least. He would pull away at the last second and hold you in his arms, his eyes not leaving yours for a second as he pushed his cock into you. He would go slow, at first. He knew it would be your first time, and the last thing he ever, ever wanted was to hurt you. A small part of him still wondered, though, what noise you would make as he pressed into you for the first time, how his cock would look coated in your cum and blood, how your face would contort in that strange mix of pleasure and pain as he took your innocence.

           All too soon, though, he was brought back to reality when he felt his cum coat the back of his hand, and as he came down from his release, he felt a familiar surge of disappointment that it wasn’t your pussy that was making him cum, that his were the only moans to be heard in his lonely apartment.

           He shoved his cock back into his pants and took one last look at you before standing up to go clean himself off. You were still sleeping, innocent and unaware of all the plans he had in store for you.

_______

           You debated skipping your next class with Steve. As each day went by, you got more and more paranoid. Whether you were at work, walking from class to class, or even at the grocery store, you kept thinking you saw Steve. You would catch a glimpse of blonde hair or broad shoulders and do a double-take, but every time you saw nothing out of the ordinary.

           Part of you still thought you were overreacting. He was your teacher, for god’s sake. And he was a former Avenger; if anything, you should’ve felt safer in his presence.

           When Thursday came around, you pushed down your desire to skip class and soldiered on, stopping for a coffee on the way and taking your seats just a few minutes before class began. The teacher you’d been so paranoid about was seated behind his desk, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he stared at his laptop.

           As you passed him on the way to your seat, his bright blue eyes darted upwards, and he gave you a soft smile like he always did when you walked into his classroom.

           “Good morning, (Y/N),” he greeted you. “That’s a nice sweater you got on today.”

           “Good morning, professor,” you’d murmured back, shoving your hands into your pockets. “Thank you.”

           You scurried over to your seat and plopped down into it. With all of your nerves, you’d almost forgotten to study for the test today. You’d only managed to cram in about half an hour last night; all of your other attempts at studying had found you without the ability to focus on the textbooks in front of you, mind wandering distractedly.

           “Alright, guys,” your professor finally sighed, standing up from his desk and grabbing a stack of papers off of it. “Before we get started with this test, do any of you have any questions?”

           When no one raised their hand, he nodded and started passing them out. As he set your test on your desk, you looked to see him wink at you, his lips curving upwards.

           “Good luck,” he whispered, and your cheeks heated as you slid the paper closer to yourself.

           After that, you made a decided effort not to make any more eye contact with your teacher as you started writing out your answers. Mr. Rogers had only ever given you guys essay questions, encouraging his students to write out their thought processes behind each of their answers. You kind of resented him for it; essay questions were always, without fail, tedious.

           The minutes ticked by slowly, the only sounds in the room behind the scratches of pens and pencils against papers and the occasional rustle when someone would flip their page over. You were amongst the first ones to finish, and when you dropped your test off with Steve at his desk, his hand once again found a way to linger against your own.

           Biting your lip, you drew your hand back quicker than usual, scurrying back to your desk and pulling a book out of your bag to read. Not that you actually read it; your eyes stayed steadily on one sentence for the next several minutes. When they finally did lift off of the page, they immediately found your teacher’s eyes, boring into you with that same dark intensity. You shivered as you snapped your gaze back to the page in front of you.

           When everyone had finished with their tests, Professor Rogers stood from his desk chair and cleared his throat, drawing all attention to himself.

           “Alright, good job guys. Feeling good about how you did?” There were a few grumbles and murmurings heard throughout the room; apparently you weren’t alone in your dislike of essay questions. “I’ll take that as a yes.

           “So I thought that I would cut today’s class short this week,” he went on, and all of you perked up at the idea of leaving early. “Before you all head out, though, I wanted to tell you about a new internship opportunity I’m spearheading.

           “For the time being, the details of the internship are being kept under wraps, but I can say that it involves travelling to New York City for a week and keeping a field journal while you’re there. What you’ll be doing in New York, unfortunately, can’t be disclosed right now.”

           You sat up straighter in your seat, interest piqued. A field journal? It sounded like whatever the internship was involved journalism skills. (Or scientific skills – you were pretty sure scientists kept field journals, at least. You shrugged that idea off pretty quickly, though; why would a history professor be in charge of a scientific internship?)

           “If you’re interested in applying for it, you’ll need to write an essay and turn it in to me at the beginning of next week’s class. The essay needs to be about a historic event that has somehow impacted your personal life, and it can be from any era of history, not just the one we’re learning about in class… Oh, and make it over 1,500 words in length. Any questions?”

           A few students raised their hands, but you tuned them out as you thought over what you would write about. That is, if you decided to apply for it. You still had no idea what the internship was for, after all. But, you reasoned, if it didn’t turn out to be something you were interested in, you could always say no, right?

           “…Alright, guys, you’re free to go. Email me if you have any questions about your test grades once they’re posted,” Steve finally said, and you distractedly started putting your things away, still thinking about what you would write about.

           When you finally stood up from your desk, you went to sling your backpack over your shoulder only to feel it hit against something. Or, if the small “oof” that had sounded upon impact was anything to go by, someone.

           Your hand flew up to your mouth when you turned and saw none other than your teacher standing there, having just been hit in the stomach by your bag – your very heavy bag, which contained no less than three textbooks inside of it.

           “Professor Rogers! Oh my god, I am so sorry-“ you started, but he waved it off with a good-natured grin.

           “Don’t worry about it, (Y/N),” he insisted, waving off your concern. “I’ve survived much worse, believe me.”

           You smiled a little at that and finished putting your bookbag over your shoulders.

           “Still, I’m sorry. I promise I’ve never assaulted any of my professors before.”

           “A likely story, Miss (Y/L/N),” he joked. “A likely story.”

The two of you were silent for a beat before he cleared his throat and gestured to you.

“I was just wanting to ask if you were planning on applying for that internship I mentioned.”

           “Oh, uh… Yeah, I was, actually. Why do you ask?”

           “Well… I know that I said I couldn’t go into what exactly the internship entails, but I did want to mention to you that it involves some journalism. That’s what you’re majoring in, right?”

           You nodded, feeling excited about your suspicions being correct.

           “It is, yeah! I thought it might have something to do with it when you mentioned field journaling,” you said. “Could I ask what the journaling would be about, or would that give too much away?”

           “It would give way too much away,” your teacher confirmed. “But trust me, I think it’ll be up your alley.”  

           Your mind turned it over, taking in Steve’s raised eyebrows and expectant smile. He seemed even more eager than you were about the internship.

           “Well, I’ll make sure to write my essay for it,” you assured him. “Just gotta think of what I’ll be writing about.” Your brain had already pondered writing about the Battle of New York; sure, it hadn’t even been ten years since it happened, but it was a historical event. And it was the main reason you’d wanted to pursue journalism, of course. But you almost died with embarrassment at the idea of writing an essay about something Captain America was involved in and then letting it be read by Captain America himself.

           As if reading your thoughts, Steve asked, “Any idea about what your subject will be on?”

           “Oh, uh…” you muttered, “I-I had one idea, but I don’t think I’m gonna go with it.”

           “Why not?”

           “Well…” You sighed, not able to meet his eyes as you confessed, “My immediate thought was the Battle of New York. I know you probably don’t like being reminded of it, but it just… It changed my world, the entire way I view things – it’s what made me want to be a journalist. After the invasion, the world – the universe, really – seemed so much bigger, and it made me want to tell stories about the reality we live in now rather than telling stories that are fiction.”

           You trailed off, looking back up at him sheepishly when you realized you were rambling. He was watching you with an intent look on his face, and for a second you were worried that the memory had upset him.

           “I’m so sorry, Mr. Rogers. I didn’t mean-“

           “No, no,” he interrupted, shaking his head, “don’t be. I understand; it kinda turned my world upside down, too. I’d thought that waking up from the 40’s had been disorienting enough, but… When I saw aliens on the streets of the city I grew up in, it really made me feel like I wasn’t in Kansas anymore.”

           Your lips twitched into a half-smile.

           “Was that a Wizard of Oz reference?”

           “…It sure was,” Steve grinned. “Old fashioned, I know, but it was one of my favorites growing up.”

           “Me too,” you nodded. The man in front of you chuckled at that and you arched an eyebrow questioningly.

           “What is it?” you asked.

           “Nothing, it’s just…not too often that I have something from my childhood in common with someone else these days,” he answered.

           Your heart squeezed with compassion for the soldier in front of you, and without realizing what you were doing, you’d rested your hand on his shoulder. You didn’t know what to say, but you knew what you wanted to; you wanted to tell him that you were sorry for what he went through, that you would never be able to understand what it had been like for him but that you knew it had to have been hard. For a second, you regretted ever feeling uncomfortable around him; hadn’t he proven his entire life that he just wanted to do what was right?

           You said none of that, though, and after a second you let your hand slide down to your side.

           “I’ll have that essay ready for you next week,” you promised him, and with that you turned and left the room, not even feeling the weight of his stare on your back as you retreated.

           For several moments, Steve just stood there, glaring at the spot you’d been standing in and feeling himself fall for you even more. Because even though you hadn’t said any of what you’d been thinking, he was able to read it all in your eyes.

­­­­______

           You’d missed your study session with Tina that week again; for the next several days, when you weren’t working on homework for your other classes, you were working on your essay. You didn’t know why you felt such a sudden need to do well on it; something in you just couldn’t stand the thought of disappointing Steve. Plus, you’d never before written about your feelings on the Battle of New York and what it had meant to you.

           Even though Steve had said the word limit was 1,500, your final essay clocked in over 3,000 words, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to shorten it. You’d dedicated an entire week to making it perfect, and you finally got to the point where you didn’t want to change a single word.        

           When that fateful Thursday came around, you gave Steve a bright smile as you set your stapled essay onto his desk. Judging from the pile of papers resting on it, you hadn’t been the only one to apply for the internship, but you didn’t feel nervous about your odds; either you got in or you didn’t. You were content knowing you’d done your best.

           “You seem like you’re in a good mood,” Steve noticed, and you winked, actually fucking winked, at him, wondering a second later why you’d even done such a thing.

           “I’m just happy to be done with that essay,” you confessed, continuing on to your seat. “I spent all week perfecting it.”

           Steve grinned, knowing for a fact that you were telling the truth. He’d kept an ever-so-diligent eye on you since your last conversation, watching as you typed away on your laptop ceaselessly, feeling satisfied to know that all your work was for him. His heart soared this morning to see you so happy, and he’d felt butterflies, actual goddamn butterflies, in his chest when you’d winked at him.

           Class went by as usual, closing off with a list of chapters to be read and homework to be completed before the next class. In fact, the rest of your day went by uneventfully, and the only thing out of the ordinary came in the form of an email on Friday morning.

           You were standing in your kitchen, just wearing your most comfy pair of sweatpants and a tank top, sipping some coffee when you heard your phone ding with a notification. Opening up the email, you felt yourself gulp so fast that your coffee burned your throat as you read it.

           Dear (Y/N),

           Good morning! I know that this is last minute, but would you be willing to come see me in my office today at 11 am? I would like to discuss your essay with you. I’m in the C Building, third floor, Room 212.

           Sincerely,

                       Steve Rogers

           You looked up to the clock on your microwave and cursed when you saw what time it was – 10:34. You set your coffee down so quickly that some of it spilled on your pants as you rushed to your room, throwing on some jeans and a cream cable knit sweater before rushing to gather your phone, keys, and wallet. It usually only took you ten minutes to get to campus from your apartment, but the C Building was basically on the other side of the continent from student parking.

           You sped in your tiny, beat up car all the way to your college, power walking to the administrative building while huffing and puffing; this was the most exercise you’d gotten in a while, what with your busy schedule.

           After an agonizingly slow elevator ride, you reached the third floor and glanced at your phone as you passed by several offices – it was 10:58. You felt your lips spread into a grin.

           When you finally reached room 212, you hesitantly rose your fist to knock on its door, but before you could make contact it was opened from the inside. Steve looked down at you with a smile as you jumped.

           “Sorry! Didn’t mean to surprise you,” he said sheepishly. “I heard you walking up the hall.”

           “…Super hearing?” you guessed, and he nodded bashfully.

           He gestured for you to follow him into the room, your nose immediately flooded with the scent of something delicious. Your eyes fell on two bags from your favorite café on campus, and you could distinctly make out the smell of their turkey bacon wafting up from within.

           “I hope you don’t mind that I got some food for us,” he said, settling into the cushy office chair placed on the side of the desk opposite to you. “I know you haven’t eaten yet, and all I’ve had was coffee-“

           “How?” you interrupted him, feeling that old coil of unease wrap itself around you. “How did you know I haven’t eaten yet, that is?”

           Steve’s lips parted and his eyes widened for a split second after you’d asked, but he quickly schooled his features back into something more neutral.

           “Oh, sorry,” he chuckled. “I shouldn’t have said that I knew you hadn’t eaten; it was just a guess. I’m assuming I was right?”

           You warily nodded, slowly walking over to the chair he had situated in front of his desk. The door behind you was still cracked open, something that helped comfort you enough to reach into the nearest bag and pull out a to-go box.

           “I got you some turkey bacon and a cheese biscuit,” he said as you opened the package up. “And there’s some blueberry muffins in the other bag if you’d like any.”

           Your hands trembled as you took a bite of your bacon; it was the exact same order you usually got for breakfast.

           You were so focused on swallowing your bite of food that you jolted when you heard the man in front of you clear his throat. Your head popped up to see him watching you with an expectant face, tapping his fingertips on the desk beneath him.

           “U-um…” you stuttered, not sure of what he was expecting you to do or say.

           “It probably shouldn’t bother me, but… Back in my day, we thanked people when they got us something,” Steve shrugged, trying to pass off his words as nonchalant. You could see the way his fists were clenched, though, and it made your heartbeat quicken.

           “Oh! Oh, I’m so sorry,” you exclaimed. “I, um… Thank you, Steve. For breakfast.”

           Your cheeks were on fire, and you felt your palms getting sweaty as you set down your piece of bacon; maybe you weren’t so hungry after all.

           Steve, though, just smiled gently and dug into the matching box of food he had placed before himself.

           “It’s ok, doll,” he hummed. “Bad manners are just a pet peeve of mine. Go ahead and eat.”

           The food felt like cardboard against your teeth as you hesitantly obeyed, still uncomfortable from how Steve had just spoken to you. You began to squirm in your chair as the minutes ticked on, the only sounds in his office coming from your quiet eating. Finally, when you couldn’t take it anymore, you cleared your throat and spoke so quietly that Steve probably wouldn’t have been able to hear you if not for his advanced hearing.

           “So, um… In your email you mentioned my essay?” you asked, sitting up straighter. “Did you want to talk with me about it today?”

           He smiled and set down the muffin he’d been working on, leaning his elbows against his desk and looking at you with a gleam in his eyes.

           “That’s right, (Y/N),” he answered, his face so bright and excited that it was almost easy to forget how harsh his tone had been just a minute ago. “I wanted you to be the first to know that you got the internship.”

           You blinked a few times, feeling surprised despite how hard you’d worked on your essay.

           “Really?” you asked, slowly starting to smile again. “I did?”

           “Of course,” Steve insisted. “Your essay was the best out of the bunch; it’s obvious that you want to be a writer.”

           “Thank you so much, sir,” you said, hurrying to say so after what had happened the last time you hadn’t been grateful for his kindness. “That…means a lot.”

           “Well, it’s true,” he assured you. “And now you get to know what the internship actually is; I know you were curious about it yesterday.”

           You nodded eagerly, watching as he leaned back in his chair.

           “A few months ago, I decided that I wanted to write an autobiography,” he began, thumbs twiddling in his lap. “I’ve never been much of a writer, but I figured that it would be nice to try and put my story down on paper. And I thought that it would be a great idea to go back to Brooklyn, where I grew up, and write down what’s changed about it and what’s the same as a sort of opening for the first chapter of my book.

           “That’s where you come in,” he added, pointing to you before setting his hands on his desk. “I wanted to go back to Brooklyn with someone who grew up in this century, someone who could help me take notes on that part of the city and who I could bounce ideas off of. After all, most of my readers would be people who have no clue about what the 40’s were like. I’d need someone to hear my ideas and tell me if they’re relevant and if they’d appeal to folks these days.”

           Your head was already turning with ideas on how he could link his past to his present in the beginning of his novel; the writer in you was salivating that the idea of this project, and you opened your mouth to tell Steve that you’d take the position.

           But then you hesitated, slowly closing your mouth again as you looked at the man seated across from you. You remembered every time he’d made you uncomfortable, every doubt you’d had about him, every time he’d made you squirm under his penetrative gaze. Would you be able to work with him one on one without feeling so nervous around him?

           “I’m…flattered that you think I’m a good fit for the job,” you started out, “And this is such an amazing opportunity, but… Um, would we the alone in Brooklyn or would there be other people with us?”

           Steve’s brows furrowed; clearly, he hadn’t expected that question.

           “Why would it matter?” he asked, voice hard as steel.

           “Well, I just… I wouldn’t want anyone getting the wrong i-idea, you know?” you stammered. “I wouldn’t want them to think-“

           “No one would know,” he interrupted. “For obvious reasons, this project is being kept strictly confidential. You would have to sign a non-disclosure agreement before we left.”

           Your doubt must have read on your face, because Steve’s face softened, and he slowly stood up, walking around to stand in front of your chair.

           “Hey, (Y/N),” he said softly. “You know you don’t have to worry about me, right? I understand that you can be…shy, but think of this as a week off! I’ve already talked to the school board, and your absences with your other classes won’t be counted against you. We’ll go to the city, take our notes, maybe even have a little fun.

           “Whatya say?”

           You sighed and let your head droop, looking down to your clenched hands as they rested in your lap. You liked his words; they were kind and considerate, but they didn’t reach his eyes. No, they were dark, a stormy gray-ish blue as he watched you intently.

           “I… I’m still not sure,” you murmured weakly. “Could I have some time to-“

           “It’s a paid internship,” Steve interrupted you, his voice just barely edging to desperate. “And I would let you write the Forward to my novel. Think about it, (Y/N) – your name on the cover of ‘Captain America’s’,” he rolled his eyes at the name, “autobiography. You’ll be able to have any job you want when you graduate. A guaranteed successful start to your career.”

           You paused at that, eyes widening at the thought; he had a point. You’d be a famous writer even before the beginning of your writing career. And your bank account was laughable at the moment; you only had a part-time job at the college library, and it definitely didn’t pay much.

           Your head tilted up and your eyes met Steve’s, and he was wearing a smile that spoke volumes; he knew what you were going to say even before you said it.

           “I’ll do it.”

_______

           Steve let out a soft grunt as he came, his hand finally stilling on his cock before he tucked it back into his pants. You’d left his office hours ago, but his mind hadn’t stopped thinking of you since you’d said those three little words. He was coming close to the end of his plan; his reward was so close now. He could practically taste it – taste you.

           He wasn’t happy that he’d had to bribe you, of course. He hated the idea that you were just saying yes because of the money and success he could offer you. But if that’s what it took to make you his, then he would do it. It was worth it for your future children, for your future life.

           Letting out a soft sigh, he stood up, putting in his airpods and selecting his favorite app on his phone. With a press of a button, he could hear the sound of your soft humming as you turned the pages of your textbook. The camera in your living room showed you curled up on your couch, studying like the good little student you were. Soon you wouldn’t have to work so hard; Steve would give you everything you could ever want or need – a family, a house, a ring on your finger… He smiled at the thought.

           He shoved his phone into his back pocket, keeping his airpods in so he could listen to the sound of your humming as background noise. He grabbed his keys and headed out, tucking his laptop under his arm as he started walking out of the building. The two of you would leave for New York in a week, and he had so many preparations to make. His back-up plan still needed to be put in order, though he hoped he wouldn’t have to use it with you.

           You were different from all the others – sweet, obedient, smart… Whatever ended up happening, Steve knew that you would see things his way eventually. The two of you were meant to be, after all.

[slothgiirl]

maybe together we can get somewhere (noah x mc)

the gang finds out noah is alive. he and mc have built a life together while no one was paying attention (12k)

this was fun and experimental to write, trying to build a relationship through the limitations of the gang only getting snippets of noah and mc and hopefully giving enough information to piece together a plot without being to expository. hope u enjoy (noah x mc are soulmates change my mind)

Stacy.

It's a family vacation. Only the second one after her college graduation since she's only living an hour from Westchester.

It's her mom and dad and Connor and his girlfriend and her girlfriend.

Sofi laughs easily, fitting right in at some story Connor is telling and Stacy’s still annoyed that her brother brought up what she and her friends had found in the woods as children when they were at the airport: when anyone could have heard. She doesn't want to deal with it ever again. And she'll get up and move across the country if she has to.

Connor catches her gaze and offers a small smile and just like that; Stacy let's it go.

“Oh a farmers market,” her mom cries out, “we should check it out!”

Her dad laughs, “alright but don't expect me to eat any frankenstein fruit.”

Stacy snorts, finding Vancouver both amazing, and like any other city she's been to. Canada is hardly an exotic travel destination, but it's nice, waking up to a view of the pacific ocean. She wonders if she should visit her old friend since she's in town.

She'd last talked to you on the phone a month ago, surely she could just drop in.

Sofi slides her hand into Stacy’s, before asking, “what are you thinking about?” It's the first time Sofia's really spent time with her family. And her girlfriend knows about her tendency to overthink and now is one of those times.

Stacy's sighs, “just-I have a friend who lives in Vancouver. I was wondering whether I should visit them or not.”

Her girlfriend smiles, leading them into a stall with lots of fruit samples, “You should! If they're your friend I bet they'd be really happy to see you.”

Stacy shrugs. “Yeah, I guess you're right. It's not like I'm going to be in Vancouver again anytime soon.”

She grabs a second sample of the blood oranges, before telling Stacy as she decides to get a few for the road, “so who is this friend?” Because Sofi doesn't know about the whole Redfield thing and she'll never know because Stacy doesn't want to burden her with Redfield and also doesn't want to talk about it herself. It's over: in the past. Finished.

“One of my childhood friends like Lucas. There was this whole group of us,” Stacy explains.

“Like Dan,” Sofi nods, understanding. “Do you guys still talk?”

“Yeah.”

“Then you should totally drop by! Personally, I could skip the biking tour.”

Stacy laughs, “my parents really just got us all the types of tour.” It was nice, how much things had changed and the boat tour had been fun even if she’d gotten pretty cold over those two hours, it had just been the perfect excuse to snuggle up with Sofi and a cup of warm coffee inside. Connor and Vy could be outdoorsy together, taking millions of photos of the water and skyline.

“It’s cute,” Sofi comments, “my dad would just grumble about the expense and lead his own tour, no doubt getting us all lost.”

Stacy shrugs, “that’s why we have google maps.”

Sofi laughs, and pays for her oranges.

Stacy’s tired of the crowded stall, so she steps outside to wait. Canadians may be polite, but there’s only so many people brushing past her she can take. She takes out her phone and asks Lily for your address because of course Lily has it; she had sent everyone care packages and birthday presents without fail. Stacy had just sent an electronic gift card and called it a day.

There’s a good crowd but this isn't a sad little farmers market like the one back home that has like nothing but a stall or two.

She finds that she does miss the small town feel of the city she lives in even if she has to drive everywhere and living close to her family is nice even if she’ll forever hate the woods, any woods. Andy and tom had confirmed nothing was out in Westchester but she won’t chance it.

It’s second nature to go through her emails while she’s on her phone.

She scans the crowd, seeing if she spots her family somewhere. And sure enough Connor and Vy are sniffing at some tea samples, looking disgustingly sweet together and Stacy makes sure to take a picture because she went with Connor and Tom to pick out the ring. He just has to pop the question.

Wait! Was she or Sofi going to ask the question? Oh god, Stacy wanted to marry this girl. It hits her like a ton of bricks and they’re only 23, been dating two years so they have time, but Stacy’s sure. This is the one.

The panic subsides as she realizes, yeah, this is the woman she wants to spend the rest of her life with and that’s no big deal. They’ll take it day by day.

She locks her phone, glances around, ready to go get Sofi who probably struck up a whole conversation with the vendors and is getting invited over to their house for dinner as Stacy stands out here, waiting, and sees. . .well not Noah Marshall because he’s dead. So that’s not possible. And it’s not like she’s in Westchester.

But-but it certainly looks like Noah at a glance.

She can’t actually make out the man’s features, just the back of his head, which wow-Stace, she might just be losing it if she’s starting to see Noah Marshall walking around, but there’s something about the way the man walks and the shade of hair even if the haircut has changed. . .she shakes her head.

She’s imagining things.

“Ready to go,” Sofi asks, putting her hand on Stacy’s arm, “Your mom texted, she said to meet in front of Whole Foods wherever that is. Also, hilarious that there’s a farmers market in front of Whole foods.”

Stacy snorts, nodding, “yeah, let’s go.” And then looks back because it’s been five years and she still wants to kick Noah’s ass even though he’s dead so it’s a non issue at this point.

The man’s gone.

*

Stacy soon forgets among trying to keep up with the itinerary that her family had made on google docs over the past few months.

*

They take a ferry in the general direction of the address Lily gave her because it’s a fun way to travel. Connor comes along but Vy stays behind in the hotel because she wants to call her parents.

“Did they go to school here,” Connor asks, because it had been a few years and he hadn’t really kept in touch with you the way Stacy and the others had.

“No,” Stacy explains as she double checks the address while Sofi points out cute houses as they walk down the street google maps is saying the house is on. “They went to UWash. I think they studied something boring like finance which I know Ava made fun of them in the group chat about.”

Sofi, a current law student, asks, “what’s wrong with finance?”

Connor snorts, “you’re talking about the same woman that helped organize supplies for her campus’ black lives matter protests.”

“Ava’s very anti-establishment,” Stacy explains because Sofi hasn’t met Ava. Her old friend had transferred to Berkeley before Stacy started dating Sofi, but not before showing everyone her minor magical abilities. “You know, the whole break up the banks, give native americans their land back, will definitely end up a granola anthropology professor in some university after her goth phase.”

Sofi nods, “Ah, I get it. She’s not wrong about the banks. Did you watch the big short?”

“You have the most boring taste in movies,” Stacy teases because this woman made her watch Dunkirk which was long and boring and the soundtrack gave her a headache.

Her girlfriend shrugs shamelessly, “I did do a film studies minor so. . .”

Stacy knocks on the door. “I hope they’re in.” It’s a cute if small house on the edge of the city, close enough to still be part of Vancouver without being in the middle of traffic. There’s a subway station just two streets over, but taking the ferry had been much nicer. Subways had lost their charm in new york after all the times Stacy had been an hour or two late because of some issue.

“Wait,” Connor asks, raising a brow, “you didn’t text them?”

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” Stacy admits. She hadn’t seen you in over two years. You had even less of a reason to be in Westchester compared to everyone who’s family still lived there. Your house had sat empty since you left for college.

“I think it's cute,” Sofi says, wrapping her arms around Stacy’s waist from behind.

Stacy smiles, blushing slightly.

The door opens up and holy fuck.

Stacy gasps, her mouth forming a wide O because she can’t even form a coherent thought.

A very much alive and happy Noah Marshall opens the door, wearing a pink apron that says something inane “kiss the cook”, with more than a bit of food stains, and flour on his chin. He’s not wearing a beanie, but it’s summer and Stacy is sweating even in shorts, and his hair is cut and styled instead of long and greasy like it had been in high school. His eye color has somehow changed from brown to a strange shiny blue that seems too catlike to be natural but that’s whatever when he’s apparently risen from the dead.

What the hell!

Connor is just as flabbergasted as she is.

And Noah’s caught off guard, the easy smile dying on his lips as he realizes who’s at the door.

It’s Sofi that spares them, asking Noah if you’re home, because she doesn’t know anything about what went down in your senior year of high school.

Noah nods wordlessly, “yeah, yeah, come in,” even though he looks like that's the last thing he wants to do looking as grim faced as he had been in school, sitting in the back and refusing to talk to anyone.

For once, Stacy wishes Sofi wasn't here because she wants nothing more than to kick Noah’s ass. She took kickboxing lessons, she totally could. Noah's taller, but not exactly built in the same way Andy is after all the years of exercise; though he's not exactly a scrawny teenager anymore.

How long has this been going on?

You're sitting at the kitchen table, a cheap flimsy thing from Ikea that at least has the decency to look nice, laptop open while wearing a moth-eaten oversized t-shirt of the beastie boys. You don't even look up, when you ask nonchalantly, “so who was at the door?” You reach a hand from another chip, eating straight from the bag.

“Stacy,” Noah says faux cheerfully. And Stacy did not miss how annoying he could be. “And Connor Green.”

You finally look up. A couple thousand emotions running through your face: surprise as you open your lips to speak and then close it without a word, your brow furrows as you frown, then you exchange glances with Noah, then you're blushing red as you meet Stacy's questioning gaze, caught red handed. After a second, you can't meet her gaze, instead looking at Connor the same way you had that year as if he could single handedly save you from everything and no wonder you asked him to the dance, oblivious to Stacy's crush on you at the time.

“Hey Connor, long time no see,” you get up, crossing the length of the small kitchen to hug him, “Andy's always going on about you, you know.”  

Connor manages a smile, “it's good to see you, too.”

“Hi, I'm Sofi,” she says, extending a hand, “Stacy’s told me a lot about you.”

You shake her hand, inviting her to down sit, “all of you. Dinner’salmost ready.” You glance at Stacy asking. . .

She shakes her head. Of course she hasn't mentioned Noah. She's tried to erase him from her memories the same way she's tried to forget all about the ruins in the woods and Dan disappearing.

“Not that you helped,” Noah quips, proceeding to slip back into the kitchen.

“Self care.” You smile back, confirming her suspicion that this had been going on for a while. And you haven't mentioned anything. Not once. But then, you stopped bringing him up when you realized everyone was on the same page, the page you weren't, after what he had done, no amount of childhood tragedy could excuse the fact he had been willing to kill all his friends for some monster. Stacy couldn't find it in her to forgive him, even in death.

Meanwhile, you had spent too much time after everything that happened crying over this jerk.

“What are you making,” Sofi asks as Stacy takes a seat, everything clicking together as you offer everyone something to drink, exchanging lovesick smiles with Noah even as he bats you away from the stove with a spatula.

You loved him.

Despite everything he had done, you loved him. Stacy couldn't understand: had been closer to Dan and you than Noah even as kids. The way you looked at him said everything; the way you'd chased after him, unwilling to let him go into the woods alone.

It made sense why you were so willing to forgive him, and why you had spent so much time mourning him.

“Vegetable pot pie,” Noah explains, starting to roll out the dough, “This one decided to become vegetarian.”

“Since when,” Connor asks, deciding to just go along with it all. Maybe Connor was just mentally stronger, better able to cope with all the supernatural weirdness having helped Tom out at the lake, and still trying to understand the power from all of Pritch’s journals.

“Just a few months ago,” you admit. “It was this whole vegan challenge at work for the month but I missed yogurt a lot but giving up meat was pretty easy.”

“Where are you working now,” Stacy asks, taking a seat carefully, making sure not to turn her back on Noah.

“Oh,” you smile, closing your computer, resting your chin against your hand, “UBC, at the anthropology museum. It's why I-we moved here. I do financial analysis for their investments. Ava found it really funny that I got a job at a museum before her.”

“Oh,” Stacy wonders, glancing at Noah again, who's just as tense if the line of his shoulders is anything to go by, and the telling line of his mouth that reminds Stacy of the first and last time she tried to include him: a APUSH presentation that Noah had waved off and preferred to bomb. “You told Ava?”

She feels the sting of hurt but Ava makes the most sense considering you were closest to her and Lily. Not to mention Ava was still messing around with the occult. A heavy lead ball of anxiety always forms whenever Ava has shown Stacy her magic tricks.

You get the double meaning.

Noah pointedly ignores her, carrying a conversation about the best places to eat in the city with Sofi.

You force yourself to smile, “about the job yeah. Thought she'd laugh since she's the anthropologist. She called it the encroachment of late stage capitalism.”

“That sounds about right for Ava,” Stacy snorts.

You'd chosen Noah over her: over your friends. The choice had already been made before Stacy had even known this was an option.

You two were a packaged deal.

Stacy takes a deep breath, and turns her back on Noah, joining the light conversation of local things to do in Vancouver and how you had completely face planted while trying to ice skate.

“-and instead of helping me,” you tease, getting plates out for everyone, “Noah just sat back and laughed!”

“And took a video,” Noah points out. “You don't have any balance babe.”

“I wouldn't do you like that,” you wrinkle your nose, smiling fondly as Noah brings the food out of the oven, the smell filling the small house and suddenly Stacy’s mouth is watering.

“You have,” he replies all mock offended, “you left me in the cab!”

“I was very drunk,” you shrug shamelessly, then turn to Sofi and Connor with an explanation. “Too much fun on  date night.”

“Shut up,” Noah utters, placing the food on the table, looking incredibly soft and it finally sinks in. He's alive. He's alive and you're together and while Stacy doesn't care for him, she's glad you're doing well.

She's still going to punch him the first chance she gets.

The food’s some of the best she's ever had.

*

She hugs you goodbye two hours later: a great big tight hug that says everything she hasn't been able to because of distance. She puts all her love and tenderness into hugging you. “It was so good seeing you,” Stacy says and means it. One day they'll talk about this.

But not now.

She's dragging Sofi into this.

You nod, hugging her back just as tight, before whispering in softly into her ear, “please don't tell anyone.”

And how could she refuse, with your sweet chocolate eyes looking at her like that, as if she holds everything you hold dear in her hands. It's easy for Stacy to make the choice to look away and say nothing.

*

*

*

Lily.

Britney makes them take a hundred selfies before they even leave the airport. Lily beams at the camera even as she pays for starbucks. “Aw man we should've tried tim hortons now that we're officially in Canada.” Lily muses, shooting you a text, letting you know she'd soon be out of the airport.

“But do they have peppermint frappuccinos,” Britney asks, leading the way as they head to the exit. Airports were always so big. It took forever to get anywhere.

“I'm not big on peppermint,” Lily comments even though Britney already knows that, before taking a long sip of her pink drink. She really had been craving a drink. That was another thing about planes: dehydration. Still, it would be worth it to visit you for the first time since you moved to Canada.

“I know,” Britney winks, “that's just more peppermint bark for me.”

*

Britney's the one that spots you first. Lily's taller than you, but still pretty short. “Your loser friends over there.” Britney teases and it shows how far she and Lily have come that they're able to laugh about the time wasted in high school where she bullied other kids including Lily.

Lily follows on her heels, fixing her coat to try and look cute. It had only been a three hour plane ride but it was three hours plus dealing with airport security so it felt closer to three years. Gosh it had almost been three years since she graduated college. Time just flew by.

Excitement bubbles up and Lily’s smiling hard when she sees you in an olive green jacket and grey hoodie combo, still the same as ever if happier now that you weren't stressing about school.

She had meant to visit you sooner but being an adult meant things often got in the way.

Then Lily spots Noah Marshall hovering behind you, laughing at something you just said , face lit up like a kid who's just been told they can finally dig into their Halloween candy. Except it can't be Noah because he's dead. Yet here he is, wearing a black coat, washout blue hoodie, and of course a beanie. If Jocelyn was here, she'd say he looks like an asshole wearing aviators indoors.

Removing any doubt of who he is, Lily having already come up with a reasonable explanation of you having coped with Noah's death by finding a lookalike, dies when he spots Britney and Lily before you. “Lily,” Noah grins as if he didn't die after trying to kill her, “you looked like someone kicked your puppy.”

You smack his shoulder. “Behave,” you tease as you try and smother a gasp. You meet her gaze sheepishly, but Lily's still too flabbergasted to respond.

“Aren't you supposed to be dead,” Britney asks.

He deadpans, “Mandela effect.”

This time, you dissolve into laughter.

Noah glances over at you with a smile, pleased with himself.

Lily finally manages, “explain.”

You nod, “let's get you settled in first.”

Britney hands her bag to Noah, “here. I need to carry Lily's bag.”

“Sure thing,” Noah snorts, taking her bag.

*

Lily had imagined Canada to be much more green. Like a national park green, with so much plant life she could smell it thick in the air, but it's pretty much just another downtown metropolitan area like Seattle. You'd really only moved a few hours away from Seattle so that made sense.

She keeps glancing over at Noah as if he'll disappear and this is some trick from whatever thing still lived in Westchester. But he's still there, flesh and blood, his arm draped around your shoulder as they stand by where she and Britney have taken a seat, bags under their feet. They had only brought carry on bags.

You're obviously together but Lily keeps getting stuck on the fact that Noah's alive.

She isn't surprised. Noah only ever had time for you that year; both of you slinking off when you thought no one was paying attention. Lily remembers seeing you hug Noah in some lonely corner of the school if you didn't skip fifth period math.

And Connor had said he'd seen you both out in town during school hours.

Maybe it's the glasses.

Noah won't be alive to her until she sees his entire face, leaving no room for error.

“Can't believe you're moving to Seattle!” You repeat because yeah Lily had gotten a nice job offer there.

“Neither can I,” Britney complains, “I like SF, and I'd like to live somewhere warm one day. Aren't there any major tech firms in Miami?”

“Nasa,” Lily says thoughtfully, “I didn't have the experience to apply though.”

Her girlfriend frowns, “You went to Berkeley though. That has to count for like ten years.”

Lily laughs.

“You should've shot your shot,” you agree.

“Isn't Florida super humid though,” Noah mentions tilting his head, reminding Lily that he's there and she can't help but flinch. “And there's tons of snakes and agitators everywhere.”

“I like snakes,” Britney notes.

He had been so sweet those last few weeks, Lily thinks to herself. Noah was always saying how she was much stronger because she could be kind even as everything was going to hell. In english, she'd burst into tears, sick and tired of having nightmares just to wake up to a living nightmare, and he'd chased after her, comforting her.

It had made his betrayal hurt all the more.

*

“So how exactly are you,” Lily asks, dancing around the subject. Surely it was rude to bring up that Noah had been dead.

“Alive,” he replies, quirking his brow, holding Britney's bag as he opens the door.

“Yeah. . .that.”

This time, when you and Noah look at each other, there's no boundless joy that fits in perfectly with the holiday season. You've even put up snowmen in the house's windows, and there's lights wrapped around the porch: off right now. It's just you looking at Noah with glassy eyes and Noah with an amount of tenderness in his eyes that Lily didn't know people were capable of in real life: the look people get when they're finally able to confess how in love they are in movies.

It's only there for a second and then Noah's making light of the whole situation, as if he can't stand to see that haunted look in your eyes, “Well you know what they say, when you wish upon a star-”

You roll your eyes, lightly smacking his arm, then changing your mind and squeezing his arm. “Don't be a dick.” Then you round your attention on Lily, “there's the shoe rack.” Before ushering the group into the living room. “I-I didn't,” you take a deep breath, tugging your coat off as you take a seat on a cheap navy cotton couch. “I guess I never stopped looking for a way,” you glance at Noah, “for a way to fix things. I mean, I still went back there for all the school breaks.”

You've stopped looking at Lily, gaze locked on Noah's. Pink dusts his cheeks and he ducks his head, looking alway, out into the quiet street, skyscrapers in the distance.

Britney purses her lips, listening intently. She heard accounts of this nature from Jocelyn. Dan knee better than to tell her anything about the woods back home.

“And I found it,” you finish without elaboration. Lily understands. Some things were, there were some things too awful to speak once again into being.

He slips his hand into yours, threading your fingers together.

It's sweet and though Lily's reservations remain, it's clear he loves you.

“Okay then,” Britney claps together, knowing full well she was ruining the moment, “how soon can we go shopping. I'm doing all my christmas shopping in Canada.”

“Because of the exchange rate,” Noah sneers, not missing a beat.

“Hardly,” Britney snaps back, “I'm a certified trophy wife now.” She smiles as she looks over at Lily who giggles.

*

It's two in the morning and Lily keeps tossing and turning. It's warm with the heater chugging away in the night. But she can't sleep.

They'd spent the whole day out, exploring the city. You'd gotten a few days off work. Britney had made you both carry bags and bags of gifts as promised.

At least she'd have plenty of time to wrap them. December had only just begun.

But Lily can't sleep.

It isn't the nightmares of her childhood: of Jane and all the things she wishes she had said no to, or those terrible months in which Lily had nearly died from sheer terror, but a pool of anxiety masquerading as restlessness.

She gets up, having visited you before back in Seattle, back when you had shared an apartment with Ava and a revolving door of roommates during college, and wonders if Ava knows. Ava, who messes around in the more supernatural corners of the world, who you had always been closest too.

Lily gets up and decides maybe a glass of water will calm her down as she chews over the idea of Noah and her both under the same roof.

She slips into the dark kitchen, with that weird anxiety that she was sneaking around that she could never shake even knowing that you wouldn't mind her going through your kitchen. She slips into the kitchen and nearly faints at the sight of Noah at the table.

He's sitting in pitch dark.

Only it isn't-

“-your eyes,” Lily hisses, breaking the calm of the twilight hours.

Noah's sitting in the dark reading.

Because his eyes are glowing blue like redfield when she was little and redfield was a friend and hadn't shown it's true nature.

Noah's eyes are glowing.

“Shit,” Noah says gently, reaching up to flip the lights on.

He moves slowly, but Lily still flinches.

“I'm sorry Lils,” he says, those three words encompassing so many years and the darkest parts of her life, casting a shadow over her whole life she can never escape because Westchester is home but it's also where it happened and Noah's a big part of why Lily spent a year having panic attacks: having flashbacks to that awful game. He says it and the last itchy scab over the deep wound Lily has harbored for years flakes off.

Lily does a little nod of acceptance, but keeps her eyes on his unnaturally reflective eyes, a light in the dark.

She swallows thickly.

That glass of water sounds amazing right about now.

“What are you doing reading in the dark,” she asks. It seems Noah had been right all those years ago; Lily was able to keep trying, a flower growing in a crack of cement.

“Studying,” Noah says calmly. “It's pretty boring actually. Sort of makes me wish I was still haunting the woods.” His smile is small, testing the waters.

Lily-she can't. She shits her eyes, shaking her head once, slow.

“Sorry,” he says easily, shutting a thick textbook, “coping mechanism.”

Lily thinks about all those nights she'd wake up in the middle of a nightmare, “is it a glitch then?” She tilts her head curiously, the way she spent hours going over the same file of code checking for any bugs: and mistakes that had slipped through the cracks.

“You could call it that. . .but they reckon that it's more of a give and take situation.” He fiddles with the sleeve of his shirt. “The power takes people but gives them power, and when, when they brought me back, I took something with me.”

For once, dread doesn't fill Lily at the mention of what lies in the woods back home.

Lily nods, and pours herself a glass of water. “What are you studying?”

“Psychology,” Noah answer's, “trying to do developmental psychology. I want to,” he waits a beat before finishing in a rush. “I'd like to be a child therapist.”

“I thought you wanted to go to culinary school,” Lily questions. She remembers you mentioning that once. Then there's the fact that Noah had brought her lunch to school a few times when he'd learned that Lily's parents had forced her into a diet.

“I did,” he shrugs. “Turns out I like to cook for myself more than anything.”

Lily smiles.

She's glad he's able to move on like she has.

“You know I use to have nightmares. Nothing really helped apart from-.”

“Tiring myself out,” you both finish.

Noah smiles grimly.

Lily drinks he water and keeps him company for a while.

*

*

*

Lucas

Logically, Lucas knows that Canada is not that different from the states yet he still feel like the place should be more exotic as he steps off the plane for work. It's grueling work really, the pay is bad and he flies economy more than is healthy for his back, but he likes keeping private corporations on their toes. That was the whole point of environmental science, though going to law school for the same thing is starting to look more and more appealing everyday.

He just feels like he doesn't have the weight to truly go after these people and hates having to pass off the cases when he knows he could do more.

But law school is. . .stressful.

He'd have already started his third year of law if he had just gone straight to law school after undergrad.

Lucas wonders if he's ready to manage that type of stress.

He gets off the plane and has to go directly to the non-profits office. It's a tiny little thing in a rougher part of the city; gone are the shiny sports cars and whole foods.

There's boxes of paperwork dating back from the 60s and he gets to work, drinking the cheap donut shop coffee that the office head, an amicable black man who still has a rhythmic african accent that Lucas isn't worldly enough to place, gives him with a shrug, “got to support our local businesses eh?”

Lucas nods. “Tell me about it. I feel like I missed out on the New York that was happening.” Ava had sent him a buy back the block patch and he really hadn't been surprised because she had always been opinionated and headstrong about it. If she was the town witch, well then she was going to be the biggest baddest witch.

He types a reminder into his notes to get her a souvenir.

He uses yelp to find a cheap diner, where he continues to pour over a thick manila folder--have to break up the work--and finds that he can smell the ocean here even when he can't exactly see it.

Lucas sets a reminder to himself to go enjoy the beach at least once.

Then he sees the reminder to call and ask Stacy where you were living. Lucas half wanted it to be a surprise, but worried he'd miss you.

He knew you liked going out dancing. And he had arrived on a Friday night.

It was unorthodox.

He usually worked strictly in the states since each country had their own laws and environmental precedent established by the courts. And alright, Lucas’ phone had a lot of law school tabs open. He was only twenty four. That wasn't too old for law school.

Weren't some students in legally blonde in their thirties?

Experience could give him an edge.

Lucas calls Stacy but it goes straight to voice mail.

Right, time difference.

He'd have to wait until tomorrow.

Having not exchanged any money as of yet, Lucas pays for his breakfast for dinner with his card and hopes the fee isn't too bad. Then he stuffs the folders and decides to walk to his hotel.

It's an hour long walk through town but years of being incredibly stressed had left him with the purposeful choice of slowing down when he could. Sometimes it felt like forcing himself to slow down, but he always felt better after a walk through a new city or sitting down with a fictional book even when he swore he didn't feel all wound up.

As far as cheap diners, tonight's was good and he had fun trying poutine.

Lucas walks through the tall buildings and wishes he hadn't worn a suit jacket. He should've worn a plain shirt or one of those gag gifts Andy was always sending him from various thrift stores. It might be further up north than even he grew up, but it was still hot in the summer.

Walking an hour in a casual suit was not his greatest idea, but the city carried the same vibrant energy the new york had. The energy that had encouraged Lucas to go to a house party--once.

He's walking by a street full of dive bars all blaring out nostalgic hits from his teenage years from Hannah Montana, which okay, to Kesha which sounded about right, and of course, Blackpink. The chalkboards outside all promise cheap drinks but Lucas isn't a big drinker.

He isn't sure how much of that is avoiding any substance that could get him hooked or if he's making that choice because he really doesn't like alcohol.

Lucas is just about through, about to by a monolithic building that has a bunch of displays in the windows, when he does a double take.

Noah fucking Marshall is smoking on the curb outside a bar, face flushed.

There's no doubt about it. Lucas would know that asshole anywhere. The same sharp jawline and prominent nose, brown hair curling around his ears only a few inches showered than it had in high school. He's wearing dark jeans and a black leather jacket over a white shirt and looking way too happy for a murderer.

Noah Marshall wearing aviators at night like the rat bastard he is!

The intense feelings of rage and wanting to hit something until the world righted itself surges in Lucas’ chest until there's a white hot anger in his throat and red clouding his vision.

He blacks out.

One second he's furiously gapping at the man-

the next

-Lucas is standing over Noah Marshall, knuckles on fire having just sucker punched the fucker.

Oh shit.

Noah looks just as surprised for a second as he looks up, blood beading up where his lips split open.

Lucas watches as recognition hits those bambi blue eyes---wait, blue.. .?

And then Noah shrugs, the ghost of a smile forming on his lips as he states, “yeah. I deserved that.”

There's a couple people looking over.

Lucas is still pissed as Noah gets up, dusting himself off and looking at the barely smoked cigarette on the ground as if he wants to smoke it, before grabbing the glasses and placing them back on instead.

Then, he grabs another cigarette, “want one,” he offers Lucas who no, wouldn't want one: wouldn't want anything from Noah if he was drowning and Noah had the only life jacket.

He was good with drowning.

Thanks.

Lucas, anger still fizzing under his skin like boiling water, asks, “how the fuck are you here!”

Noah shrugs, before slurring and it's then that Lucas realizes the other man is flushed drunk, “I live here,” without an ounce of sarcasm.

“You know exactly what I mean,” Lucas says, curling his lip and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Oh you know me. I'm just plotting world domination and decided Vancouver would be the perfect location for my evil villain lair. I've got a neon sign and everything.”

Lucas rolls his eyes, grinding his teeth together. “Do you always have to be such an asshole?”

Noah spreads his hands out and proceeds to do jazz hands, before taking a drag of his cigarette.

Fuck, Lucas feels like punching him again.

He's really thinking about it as he watches Noah, sure the idiot will try something again, when he hears your voice as you stumble out of the bar, “I knew it! You were going out for a smoke break!”

Noah's entire demeanor shifts, no longer the boy Lucas has built up in his head as the cause of all their problems. Over the years, he's decided that Noah had known from the start. In the depths of his denial, Lucas had told himself that Noah had kidnapped Dan. But, you appear, and Noah's turns bright pink as he hurried to stomp out the cigarette you've already seen like a naughty school boy, even as he turns and smiles as if you hung the sun in the sky and painted the night stars. It's lovesick the way you both look at each other with the fondness of ancient couples out for a walk in the park, lost in their own world.

However the fuck he's alive, Lucas realizes that this Noah, the real living Noah, has been just as freaked as the rest of them. It's something he hasn't thought about in years.

Noah had lost Jane.

It's enough for Lucas to unclench his hands even if he's still seething because what the hell, he still offered them all up on a silver platter. Redfield or Jane--whatever it was in the end--had given Ava powers and she hadn't stabbed your group of friends in the back.

You cross the distance quickly, and throw your arms around his middle, tipsy. That's probably why your smile is so pure-untouched by all the trauma and boring adult problems like remembering to pay the bills and having to call the cable company for the fifth time.

You don't even notice Lucas.

“What happened to your face,” you ask, raising your hand to cup Noah's cheek, frowning.

Noah nods over at Lucas.

You finally notice him.

“Lucas,” you wag your finger at him, still cuddled up to the man in question, “You can't punch Noah. Do you know how much trouble I went through to get him back?”

It shouldn't be possible, but Noah turns pinker.

“Aw babe,” Noah teases you with a familiarity that carries depth.

This wasn't a new development then.

“You really do care about me.”

This time, you round on Noah, wagging your finger menacingly, “Don’t be an idiot! Of course I love you. You're the best thing that ever happened to me!”

Which has Lucas majorly side eyeing you.

Sure, Noah had grown up to be tall and not unattractive, as far as pasty white boys were concerned, but he'd still tried to kill everyone.

Noah also looks skeptical.

“What are you doing in town Lucas,” you then ask.

“Work,” Lucas replies blandly, as he tries to come to terms with this reality altering discovery. “You were dead.”

“That's not entirely true,” Noah muses philosophically, “Physically I was dead but technically I was still roaming the woods as a monster.”

Reflexively, you interject, resting your hand on his chest, “you're not a monster.”

“I thought you liked the shape of water.”

Which sends you squealing. “Noah!”

Lucas doesn't get it. You are the strongest person he knows who can talk to anyone and has a sense of determination that rivals a gold medalist: the one who kept everyone together during one of the shiftiest times in his life, and he's who you settle for! “If you have to say technically, you've already lost the argument.”

You snort.

Noah rolls his eyes good naturedly.

“Wait,” you realize, eyes going wide, “does that mean you're younger than me now.”

Noah tilts his head in thought, “physically. . .”

“Pretty sure that means yes,” Lucas adds, wondering how long Noah had been back for.

“Oh my god, I'm stealing from the cradle!”

Noah looks incredibly affronted as he blinks rapid looking down at you like you'd grown a second head.

“You mean cradle robbing?”

“I'm. . .twenty four,” Noah says. Not even he sounds convinced.

“Twenty two,” you correct archly. Then look at Lucas with a friendly smile, “you want to go get pho?”

“Right now!” Lucas checks his watch. It was already midnight. He should've been at his hotel room sleeping by now.

You nod.

Noah elaborates, “it's pricey but the broth hits different. They have some pretty good view of the city too.”

Two years. Noah had been back for two years and you never said anything.

Lucas can put up with Noah for a few hours to spend time with you. After all, you were the one who was putting up with him for life apparently.

“Should we let-,” you begging to ask, amusement dancing in your eyes, city lights reflected in the dark brown hue that had a quality of depth that made it easy to open up to you.

“Nah,” Noah smirks, “Sheer chatted some dude up, they won't even realize-”

“Rahul will though.”

“Psst, it's fine.”

You've both built a life here, far removed from any traces of Westchester. Maybe that's where he had gone wrong. Lucas had been so desperate to escape he's never found a place of his own, and still haunted by his one and only home: a place he wants nothing to do with. He needed to make a new home.

Law school wasn't sounding too shabby.

*

Noah leads the way.

*

A lightbulb turns on.

“What's with your eyes?” Lucas asks.

Noah chuckles, “sometimes you fall into a vat of radioactive waste because that's just the type of luck you have.”

You shake your head, amused. “Side effect. It's nothing serious. We checked.”

That doesn't comfort Lucas at all.

He wonders if Connor or Tom could fix that just to be sure Noah wouldn't suddenly go Redfield on you while you were sleeping.

Ugh, that was one mental image he didn't need.

“So what terrible horrifying government secret are you here investigating and does it have to do with a company hiding vats of radioactive waste,” you ask.

Lucas takes the bait.

He could and has talked people's ears off about the loose regulations on place on waste disposal among an array of industries.

*

*

*

Andy, Dan, Tom

This all starts with two things as far as Tom is concerned. First, they've all been talking for ages about doing a guys road trip after everyone still around Westchester had driven down to visit Ava. Not that the girls weren't fun, Tom thought to himself, but it just sounded nice.

He never had a sleepover growing up so this would make up for that. At least that was the idea.

Then Lucas called Andy freaking out about Noah Marshall and Connor could only nod and go, “yeah he was with them about a year. . almost two since we visited. I think it's already been two years.”

Which was a total mindfuck because why hadn't he mentioned anything.

Why hadn't Stacy?

Tom’s done some research into necromancy and it never ends well which is why they pile into Dan’s prius and hit the road to Vancouver Canada. Sans Connor because Vy is pregnant and Connor is glued to her side. “I think they were dating,” he also adds, bookmarking some cases around New Orleans that scream supernatural activity. That throws everyone for another mind loop as he clues the Pine Springs gang who wasn't there that senior year, why Noah Marshall shouldn't be alive, much less freely walking around. The only person who takes the news relatively well is Dan, who scratches his chin thoughtfully before saying, “that makes sense,” he nods to himself.

Andy rounds on him, ready to kick Noah's ass on sight which Tom will totally back him up on. Tom still can't handle spiders for which Danni and Jocelyn continue to tease him about.

“How in the fuck does that make sense,” Andy seeths, “that motherfucker landed you in a coma! I broke my leg and had to repeat senior year!”

Dan adds, “well you know, they spoke about how tragic his death was. And they used to have nightmares of him dying-”

They all turn to look at Dan.

“What,” Andy says, “when did they tell you that?”

Dan shrugs, “well they were always coming over that year and making a point to spend time with everyone but I always thought they looked sad and thinking about them alone on the edge of town,” he trails off. He’d never brought up your parents absence, but it was clearly felt. “So I went over to theirs when I could,” Dan finishes.

Andy shakes his head, “no. I don’t know what or how, but people don’t just come back from the dead and everything's sunshine and roses,” he crosses his arms against his chest and fumes across the entire state of New York.

Tom has to agree with Andy. There’s nothing in their research to suggest that people can just come back okay. Everything taken by the power ended up twisted into a funhouse version; it never ended well.

They stretch their legs in Cleveland, Andy still scowling. Every now and then he’ll rant about how Noah has to be up to something and he has to go save you from dying. Tom doesn’t bring it up, prefering to let Andy work through it now and wrap his head around Noah Marshall being alive on the car ride up to Canada, but Connor had said Noah’s been back for at least two years--wouldn’t he already have done something? He thinks of you and how you had been alone with Noah at the end. Maybe you had kept some things to yourself.

It was hard to relive trauma aloud.

It made it more real.

Tom sends Imogen a few snaps in Toledo as Andy blasts The White Stripes, to fit his mood.

He wishes Parker had been able to get the days off. Having someone at a distance from the situation might help everyone keep their cool. He knows he won’t stop Andy from beating Noah’s ass.

Dan picks up postcards in Chicago for everyone, as they sit by the famous Bean eating pizza.

“I can’t tell if this is better or if I’m fucking starving,” Andy admits, on his third slice.

Dan snorts, looking up from his lap where he’s writing out the postcards, wanting to send them quickly, “so they make it back before we do.”

Tom takes a walk around the plaza, thinking that fall really was the best weather, cold enough for a sweater without being too freezing and the sun didn’t burn.

They don’t stop in Wisconsin or Minnesota except for gas and Mcdonalds.

Andy sleeps as Tom takes over the driving.

Dan’ll be up next.

“Please play something other than Beach House,” Tom complains at Dan, “this is going to make me fall asleep.”

Dan chuckles, “Its good night driving music.”

“No Dan,” Tom shakes his head with a smile

The sun rises, and Tom gets to sleep.

He wakes up in Rapid City, South Dakota and they have to recreate that awful Hilary Clinton, “just chilling in Rapid City,” Andy says mockingly.

Dan almost chokes on his coffee.

Montana is so fucking beautiful and Tom’s seized with the sudden urge to come live out here. “We could totally do it,” he tells the other men, “it’s cheap out here. We could buy a huge piece of land and never have to deal with any bullshit again. Our friend group could do it. Danni’s really handy and Lily could set us up with wifi!”

“Bro,” Andy says gravely, “you know I love you, but I’m not moving to Montana with you.”

Dam smiles softly, “Danni would have a field day taking pictures here.”

Montana is beautiful and green and none of the nature here has that heavy feeling the woods in Westchester do, but they’re tired and exhausted from being on the road for the last two days. They crash at a motel 8 and sleep for the next twelve hours.

*

They ask this beautiful woman who's wearing birks and has a tote bag emblazoned “love your mother” with a planet earth painted on, to take a picture of them in front of Pike Place Market. Dan has her number before Tom’s done sending the pictures to his Pine Springs groupchat, teasing Parker about having stayed behind to yell at teenagers smoking weed while driving boats around the lake: accidents waiting to happen.

Tom has never been to Seattle.

He knows most of his friends from Westchester have  to visit you or Ava, and he's grown close to Ava, but at the time he was more of a friend of a friend and so never flew up to Seattle.

“Is it lame I'm still tired,” Andy asks, as they find a park to sit down at. It felt so good to be able to lay in the grass instead of sitting cramped up in the car.

“Age is starting to hit us.” Dan muses. “Either of you want to come get some things with me.”

His friend snorts, “Haven't you gotten enough gifts for everyone?” Which, yeah, Dan has been accumulating a small horde of souvenirs in the back for all his friends. He's a thoughtful guy. Tom’s not surprised the man’s a nurse. If he'd had Dan as a nurse when he was a kid, he might not completely hated going to the doctors office.

“I was kinda thinking about getting something from every state,” Dan says, blushing red as he rubs the back of his neck.

“I think it's sweet,” Tom says, clasping a hand on the other man's back. “Cheesy, but sweet.”

Andy shakes his head, “we should've gotten there by now. If only we hadn't stopped in Montana-”

“Noah's not going anywhere,” Dan points out, “you can kick his ass tonight or tomorrow.”

“They know we’re coming,” Andy scowls, “He could be halfway around the world by now.”

“Just remember Lucas already sucker punched him,” Tom offers his friend as consolation.

Dan shakes his head a little, but stays silent. Tom hasn't been able to get Dan’s feelings on the whole situation. He can’t imagine him being completely ambivalent or cool with Noah getting off scot free, but then again, Tom doesn’t know every little detail.

No one talks about it in detail even in their little power club that Connor and him started up.

He gets it.

It’s not something anyone wants to linger on.

And he understands better than most.

His monster was different, but no less horrifying.

“I’ll go with you,” Tom offers Dan, because this is a new city and even though the point is to go see what's up with Noah, and make sure he isn’t still the shadow monster he was the last time Tom saw him, he still wants to make the most of it.

“Two hours,” Andy says with a warning. “Two hours or I leave you in Seattle.”

“Sure, sure,” Tom shakes his head. Andy would never do them like that.

“If you’re coming we should go to the space needle,” Dan says thoughtfully, taking out his phone to begin google mapping the places he wants to hit up.

“Two hours!” Andy calls back from where he’s watching a couple people play basketball.

*

Tom discovers he has a thing about heights as they ascend via an elevator. It’s a slow day and the elevator operator talks him through it, telling him all sorts of bad puns and more information about the space needle then he can remember. “Sarah Palin came by the other day,” the woman who looks to be about their age with green ringlets and a friendly smile that doesn’t seem to be forced like most customer service workers smile (smile through the pain), “and she said she could see Alaska from here! Get it?”

Tom tries to smile, but yeah, he’s never doing this again. “Did you see the masked singer with Sarah Palin?”

The girl nods, “how the mighty have fallen. You think there's an alternate universe where she was vice president and insead Joe Biden’s on Dancing with the Stars?”

Tom’s laugh dies in his throat as the elevator jolts to a stop. It certainly feels like a huge jolt, but that may be his anxiety making everything elven times worse.

“Well thank you for riding air force two,” she salutes as Tom finally steps into the platform.

Sweet, sweet relief.

He sort of has to go take a picture or two off the viewing platform. He’s made it this far.

“She was totally into you,” Dan says, stepping in to take Tom’s mind off things.

“Was not.”

“Totally was.”

Tom rolls his eyes, “she was just being nice.”

“Sure man, sure. But she was.”

*

They arrive even later than Andy had predicted. It’s midnight and proof that they had dallied in Seattle for two long. This is the first time Dan has ever left the country so of course they stop and take pictures.

And then they stop and eat at the cute little cabin lodge just off the highway.

And even Andy forgets about the Noah business.

They pull into the street, disappearing from the city in the turn onto the street. It’s crazy how much of a difference a street can make. A little quiet row of houses tucked under the twinkling lights of the city lights.

Your house is a small one story thing, clearly an older home from before cookie cutter houses came into fashion, and with a certain amount of charm even with the dead plant by the doorstep: closer to a cottage than a house like something out of Snow White. There’s even a ouija board doormat that Tom thinks is completely in line with your humor and probably Noah’s as well. He just doesn’t remember much about Noah when he was alive. Last time Tom saw Noah, Noah was saying sorry to the birds. People could change.

Right?

It’s not like Noah had gone all Zodiac Killer on his friends.

The lights are off and Tom feels kind of bad that he’s about to wake you up, but he also really wants to crash in an actual bed.

Dan knocks on your door as Andy paces behind Tom.

A minute later, you peak your head out the door. Your navy blue sweater is cuffed around your hands, clearly meant for someone taller, helping to stave off the autumn chill, and grey flannel pajama pants. You rub your eyes with the back of your hand as you yawn. “You’re here,” you smile and hug Dan with one arm, “do you need any help with the bags.”

“The bags can wait until tomorrow,” Dan answers for the group, “I just want to sleep in a real bed.”

You snort, “don’t actually have a guest room,” you admit, keeping your voice down as you usher them all inside, “but I do have a pretty comfortable pull out couch and way too many quilts. I have to stop going to Victoria Island.”

Andy looks around, tense.

Tom’s a little surprised when you hug him too. “Want any food? There’s a ton of leftovers. Noah’s been stress baking. He has a bunch of exams this week.,” you say with such casualness.

“We already ate,” Dan offers, “there was this cool looking log cabin that sold me on pumpkin spice muffins.”

“Where is Noah,” Andy asks, cutting right to the quick.

You look at him pointedly as you explain, “he went to sleep early. He’s got school at like 7 am. I have no clue why. . .college was all about afternoon classes for me.”

Andy wisely, let’s it go for the moment.

You show them where things are, the couch is already extended. The TV’s sitting on a pile of textbooks with a nintendo switch right next to it.

Tom is out before his head hits the pillow.

*

They wake up and eat the promised leftovers as you rush to find the spare key to leave with your friends before you too have to go to work. “I would've asked for the day off like I did for the rest of the week,” you hastily explain, filling the electric kettle with water, “but it was Maureen���s birthday and I would’ve felt like such a dickhead.”

You make Dan promise to come look through the Museum you work at before it closes, and then you’re running off with a tumbler full of tea, putting a hand through your hair as if that’ll save it from looking like a mess. Tom’s unsurprised at your easy nature when they’re all imposing, making no secret of the real reason they had driven all the way to the other coast of North America.

Andy conducts a walkthrough of the house, leaving the sole bedroom of the house alone.

Dan shakes his head, flipping through the TV channels, before logging onto your netflix account, the most recent show having been played was Avatar the Last Airbender. “Anything you want to watch?”

“The good place,” Tom offers, “everyone’s always saying it's good.”

Dan shrugs. “I wouldn’t know. I don’t have netflix.”

Andy comes back with a picture frame clutched in his hand, “He’s such a dick!” Red seeping into his neck as he fumes.

Tom looks over at the picture, but it’s just a photo any normal couple would have hanging around their house: a blurry polaroid of you and Noah, each with a red solo cup at some house party, with the date, over a year ago, written on the border. He gets it, he does. And Andy’s his friend, so he nods.

Dan on the other hand, “okay. . .”

Andy disappears back down the hall. “I just don’t understand how they kept this from us! I mean-after what he did!”

Tom nods the same way he always had when his dad would start lecturing him in japanese even though his japanese is limited to whatever the japanese equivalent of Dora the explorer teaching spanish is.

“Probably so we wouldn’t freak out,” Dan offers, not looking away from the screen.

Andy marches back into the living room with a deep set frown, “Noah was fine offering us up to that monster and now they’re here playing house like nothing ever happened.” He sits down next to Tom, head in his hand. “I just don’t get it.”

He clasps a hand on Andy’s shoulder in comfort.

“Maybe they just wanted to forget as much as we did,” Dan notes quietly. “Some of us left and never really went back.” He’s talking about Lily and Lucas, who only visits during the holidays, then there’s Ava out in Arizona, busy doing field research and only going to Westchester in between jobs. Dan’s an hour away, a world away, near Stacy.

It’s really just Andy and Connor who stayed.

He’s in Pine Springs, a good hour to the west of Westchester.

“He died,” Andy grumbles out, “it could’ve easily been them, or any of us, or all of us. We’re lucky no one else did.”

Dan frowns, looking over at Andy, “I don’t like this anymore than you do. I’m not jazzed that Noah’s been back for years and we just found out. But I trust their judgement.”

“Necromancy is serious business,” Tom says, breaking the staring contest that’s started between the two friends.

*

Noah’s at least a little bit of a coward, as he saunters up to them, running a hand through his hair as he takes a seat at the table.

You had said this diner had the best malai kofta in the neighborhood.

He’s resting expression is still skewed towards sour, even as there’s other noticeable changes from the Noah Tom remember’s who’d kept to himself in school. His hair cut into a flattering undercut, clothes no longer on the angsty scruffy side but still decidedly casual as he opts for a dark palette, and of course, the blue eyes that seem to glow even in the afternoon light Lucas had mentioned in great detail. Noah’s clean shaven and lean, a backpack slung over his shoulder.

He only spares Tom a second’s glance before he focuses in on you, his lips quirk-ing up in a small smile. Sitting down, you lean forward expectantly as he plants a kiss on your cheek by way of greeting, before saying, “C’s make degrees right?”

“Mhm,” you nod, “but you did fine so it doesn’t matter. I ordered you the chicken and waffles. That’s what you usually get right?”

“Actually,” Noah starts, clearly about to tease you.

You shove his shoulder lightly, “beggars can’t be choosers.”

Dan extends an olive branch, “hey Noah.”

Which Andy immediately shoots down, “so it’s true.”

Tom’s only glad they’re already sitting and yeah, Noah’s a coward for meeting them in public, not that it had stopped Lucas from sucker punching him. It probably won’t stop Andy, only he’s sandwiched in between Dan and Tom and there’s no way Dan is getting up and out just so Andy can punch Noah. That’s not the kind of friend Dan is. Dan’ll take someone away to cool off, sprouting lines about being the bigger person, but Tom thinks that sometimes a punch is well earned.

Noah nods, sobering up, rating his arms on the table. “Yeah. It’s still. . . it’s still a trip nearly four years later.”

You cover his hand with yours, giving Noah’s hand a squeeze.

Now that they’re here with Noah, a burst of curiosity that’s been brewing in the back of Tom’s mind finally surges forward. “Do your eyes always glow? Or is it light a cat’s iridescence and that’s why you can read in the dark?”

“Gee, let me give you the paperwork the doctor diagnosed me with after I explained that my sister became a shadow monster and I came back to life. He was super nice and helpful about everything. We really don’t pay doctors enough.”

Andy rolls his eyes, “So are you still a monster or not.”

Noah frowns, before leading forward, gripping a glass of ice in hand pointedly, lifting it off the table, watching his own action with a sad fascination, “you can’t begin to imagine how nice it is to be solid again--to be more than a lingering ghost who can barely remember who it used to be.”

Which doesn’t answer the question but--

Some monsters were all too human for comfort. And some monstrous beings ended up friends and allies back in Pine Springs.

*

You and Dan walk up ahead arm in arm, chatting about everything from how cozy ll bean’s wool socks were to how you wanted to branch out and leave your job but it just couldn't be a bank, working in a cubical all day seemed like a death sentence. Dan fills you in on the news from back home and you both catch up as you walk at a leisurely pace back to your home.

Somehow, Noah manages to be patient as Tom rattles off question after question.

“Do you remember much?”

“What was it like coming back?”

“Can you do any magic thought,” he purses his lips in thought, “that doesn’t tell us much, since Ava’s out there levitating feathers.”

“Are any of your other senses better?”

“Do you have any other changes after coming back?”

“Can you speak to animals now?”

“Do you ever get a craving for human flesh?”

“Your limbs don’t fall off or anything? Right?”

“You have all your memories back?”

“Do you ever see any ghosts?”

“Can you see ghosts?”

Noah answers them patiently, if amused, as Andy skulks behind, clearly listening in on the conversation.

“How did they bring you back,” Tom finally asks, having spent countless nights researching necromancy. It had crept up in the Pine Spring’s society books, journals detail all sort of gorey accounts of their attempts to harness the power to gain power over the dead and living, but none of it had ever amounted to anything. At least in the best case.

One member had rotted away from the inside out, black mold blooming in his lungs, incurable as he choked to death after trying to raise a simple cat from the dead.

Noah tenses up, glancing over to where you’re laughing as Dan does a spot on Bernie impression about how it’s time to once again, “ask for a The man from U.N.C.L.E. sequel,” before meeting Tom’s gaze again. “You’ve formed a little club to keep the power away from people right?”

He nods, “I just-I don’t want more people to go through what we have,” he explains. They had to be proactive and learn so that no one else would stumble upon the power and exploit it to violent ends. Ava’s magic wasn’t derived from the power. Tom had double checked that. Ava’s magic was her own through her own sheer will.

But the power-that was something else entirely.

He swallows thickly.

Nothing had happened so far. And he couldn’t tell if their plan was working, or if they had gotten lucky. It had been a handful of years. But then, a decade had passed between Jane Marshall’s death and her awakening.

“And no one else ever will,” Noah says forlornly.

“Explain,” Andy says, walking up on Noah’s other side.

The man looks up at you, as you and Dan wait by the street corner for the rest of the group to catch up, and he shakes his head. “All you need to know is the power won’t be a problem again.”

*

Tom runs the problem over and over in his mind as they explore Vancouver and Andy continues to get digs in at Noah while Noah lets him.

*

He thinks about it as Andy makes everyone watch #Alive. And then Dan reminds them how obsessed everyone was with Inception when it came out. And Tom thinks about Noah’s words. And then you suggest watching something lighter: Zoolander.

*

Tom plays Noah’s words over in his head as he stares up at the ceiling, listening to Andy’s snores.

*

He puzzles over what Noah meant, why he didn’t want to bother you with it, as he drives back across the continent.

*

The power takes.

*

The power gives.

*

He gets it as they stop for gas in New York.

*

Oh, you really must love him.

*

*

*

Ava

Ava walks into Tom’s house out in Pine springs. It’s summer and she’s ready to spend the entire week swimming and continuing the search for a black lipstick that won’t stain. Fenty came pretty close.

There’s tons of cars in the driveway and she knows she’s the last one to get there; she always did like an entrance.

She tries the doorknob before knocking, hearing the laughter and conversation carry outside. The house is unlocked so she lets herself in; she likes to make entrances, guilty as charged, before following the sound of voices into the back porch overlooking the lake.

Tom had lucked out in buying this place during the summer the lady of the lake terrorized the town.

She’s frozen in shock when she sees Noah sitting with everyone like he hasn't been dead for over eight years. He’s sitting with an arm around you, beer in his other hand, talking with Lily, in a faded AC/DC shirt and dark jeans despite the heat.

Ava pinches herself to make sure she isn’t dreaming.

“Ava,” Lily cries, spotting her, “you’re here.”

“What the fuck!”

Realization dawns on your face as Noah looks over at the resident goth chick who’s withered into a refined goth woman, less fishnet and more victorian mourning shirts paired with flared black and white leggings, for the first time in eight years and seven months.

“Hey Ava,” he says, lifting his hand up in greeting from where it’s resting on your shoulder.

Your face heats up, as you look at Ava, realizing you’d never gotten around to telling her. Not when you’d visited her for Thanksgiving even though she refused to participate in a propaganda holiday that “perpetuates colonialism” or the time last year when you’d gone to support her big lecture at UMississipi. It had never seemed the right time and now the time to calmly explain was gone.

“Someone explain before I light him on fire,” Ava utters, feeling heat grow in her fingertips. It was easy after years of practice. She was toying with the idea of buying a house in Salem.

Noah doesn’t even flinch.

How could he, having grown up with Jane for a sister that had gone around filling people shoes with mud and shoving people into pools with a laugh. That girl had been fearless, and Ava has long thought if she’d been an inch more scared, you and Jane never would have gone into those ruins.

It almost warms Ava’s cold dead heart.

Ha.

If Ava had sometimes been the third wheel with you and Jane, then Noah had been the ugly duckling waiting for a scrap of attention because Jane shone bright, a sunflower soaking up light, thriving on attention. Maybe Noah hadn’t been all that bothered to let his sister take the lead as kids, even as he grumbled about the trouble they were sure to get into, but neither Marshall twin had cared about anyone’s attention more than yours.

Jane had always been a limpet, her hand in yours.

Ava had been too independent even at nine to always go along with Jane, or want a friend that close.

But you didn’t just go along with Jane, you encouraged her, and dragged Noah along when Jane got too caught up in her made up games to remember to play nice. Noah who even at nine seemed clued into the fact that you were hurt that your parents were never around, something that never occurred to Jane.

So she’s not surprised that Noah and you are a thing.

Figures.

You’d kissed more than one white boy that could vaguely pass for Noah if you had enough to drink in college even if you had only dated twice and neither had been Noah Marshall knockoffs.

It’s glaringly obvious in hindsight.

What she doesn’t get is how he’s alive.

And everyone’s just cool with it.

“I thought you already knew,” Dan says.

Lily looks at you, “didn’t you tell Ava first?”

You raise a brow, “I thought Lucas told everyone?”

Lucas shrugs, wearing a suit in the summer, “I did. I just figured Ava already knew”

Stacy sips her cocktail, “awkward.”

“Wow,” Noah jokes with a grin, “you guys are terrible friends.”

Andy almost chokes on his beer, sending Noah a look that would’ve made Medusa jealous.

Danni shakes her head, “too soon dude, too soon.”

Maybe she should move into Cora’s old house. That way she could keep up with her friends' news.

How the hell did she miss Noah coming back to life.

That was metal as fuck.

She and you would have words about keeping secrets.

“Just give me the strongest drink you can make,” she says with a shake of her head, taking a seat next to Imogen, the resident mixologist.

[sunseteyes]

FAMOUS VLOGGER S/O FOR DEKUSQUAD

feel free to send request for any bnha character~

IZUKU MIDORIYA

if you’re a well-known vlogger that features or posts about pro heroes, he’d certainly be a follower before he even sees you in real life

and he’d be really ecstatic when he does

STUTTERING in your first meeting

“(y-y-y/n)-san?! i-is that really you?! u-uhm, i-i am a f-fan of your channel!”

would be really chirpy at first, like really chirpy

but when he warms up to your presence and he forgets that you’re a famous vlogger, he’d calm down and treat you normally

the time you two will get together, he’d be ecstatic and may even tear up a bit

you’d feature him a lot in your vlog and he’s shy at first ofc but he’d be a natural afterwards

your fans would love him because you two are just cinnamon rolls

OCHAKO URARAKA

ura would blush a lot but she’d try to conceal it from you

although she’d be really obvious either way

she’d know about you and would immediately befriend you without a doubt

and when you two became a couple, she’d be vv supporting, much like hen you two were still friends

you surely would have already invited her to a few of your videos before

like doing cooking or baking, and even mukbangs

sooner, your channel would be fulll of videos with her and the fans would love her cheery attitude almot like how much you do

TENYA IIDA

he probably wouldn’t know about you ?? at first ??

but once you tell him you’re a vlogger he’d likely search you up later on and will be addicted to watching your videos

he’d be your number one fan tbh

then when you do invite him to your next video, he’d be excited... and also freeze when the camera starts filming

he’d be really really nervous at the first take but you’ll find him adorable either way

the fans would agree

and he’d be settling in either way since he basially knows how your videos go on

the fans would love his dorkiness and they’d become his fans too once they’ll know that he’s in the hero course in yuuei

SHOUTO TODOROKI

ah, this on wouldn’t know who you are at all

well, maybe if his sister or mother watches about you, then yes maybe that would be adorable i admit

if they are, mom and sister would be excited to meet you !!! like “shoto honey you didn’t say your significant other is the one i’m following on youtube, invite her to dinner/i’d like to meet them, can you bring them here?”

family dinner would be awkward if endeavor is there but first meeting with mom would be totally awesome

anyway, as for the videos, reaction o try not to laugh videos would totally suit him

i mean, he’d be great at giving comments even if he’d just watch and remain calm and composed while you’re either laughing your ass off or just have your reactions all over your face

the fans would love him

i mean bruh

“we’re proud of you, child, keep it up” would be one of those comments i tell you

TSUYU ASUI

she’d be the only one who would handle everything well

she’d know you but she’d be lowkey about it

and when you do get together, she’ll be very very supportive and would gladly join you in your videos

your fans would recognize her and would instantly love her

then requests would flood in about what’s on her bag, or what does she do as a yuuei student, or how does she study and so on

it would be really good if you’ll be from yuuei too so you could get to film with her most of the time

[canonicallyanxious]

not sure if you do anything like this, But what do you think MNC!IsakandEven are doing right now?

oh man anon i have to tell you it’s been ages since i’ve even thought about making new cliches but it’s IMMENSELY COOL there are still people thinking about this fic and these boys!! so bc i was just so irrationally pleased about this ask i dug up some [very old like from 2018 rip] notes of some post-canon hcs i came up with and using those i’m gonna come up with a new list of 2020 appropriate hcs - hope you enjoy them :’]

[side note but this made me realize that 2020 is canonically FOUR YEARS after the end of skam s3 as well as the mnc timeline????? fuck me sdkjfnsdkf]

hmm not sure what the norwegian uni system is like or what quarantine life looks like over there rn but if they’re still in school then Even probably applied to film school after a gap year or two and isak is studying idk compsci or something [for the job security yk]

Even’s friendship with balloon squad still going strong! he’s actually a pretty integral part of their yt channel now, helps them with bts stuff and editing videos and they’re twitch streamers now too so he helps with their stream set up bc none of them [except for maybe mikael] know what the hell they’re doing

mikael made him sit down and do film school apps with him so they probably are going to the same program. Even realized he was into more of the visual storytelling aspect of things so he’s probably leaning more toward cinematography/editing, mikael still on the director track. 

isak is of course subscribed to their channel and comments on all of the videos that Even appear in and Even pins every single comment which baffles the channel’s other subscribers bc it’s always shit like “wow what pretentious hipster came up with this shit” and “congrats on being the token white boy” [”Isak,” Even says, kicking at Isak’s ankle where they’re sprawled all over their couch, “you’re a token white boy too”] and “lol ur ugly” [to which even responds using the hei briskeby account “<3” and everyone is like ??????????????????????????????????]

if they’re still in oslo they probably regularly have lunch with each other’s parents. For holiday get togethers they trade off between Even’s parents’ new flat and Isak’s mom’s house, and whenever Even’s parents come to Isak’s mom’s house there’s always lots of jokes about the house they used to live in like “oh HATE what the new neighbors are doing with OUR YARD” or whatever

they probably moved into a flat together 1 or 2 years ago, idk how expensive rent is in Oslo but as they’re both students i’m gonna say they’re probably in a flatshare of some kind. isak insisted on having his own room so he can have a space to go when he wants to sleep without Even hogging the blankets [still a point of contention between them almost a decade and a half into them knowing each other!] so technically on paper they have their own rooms but let’s be fucking real at this point isak’s room is less his room and more the room that has his X-box

for the first like week [maybe even the first month] their roommates were so very confused as to whether they were actually together or just really really close friends [they’re constantly bickering but also spend all their time together but also spend all their time together playing mario kart????] and isak and even probably like forgot to tell them [like they’ve always been “isak and even” u know and now they’re “isak and even plus bomb ass sex and lots of smooches” but still isak and even but they probably forget people they’ve just met don’t know that] and probably had an ongoing debate about it 

”Even leaves Isak little drawings on the bathroom mirror in the morning, they’re definitely dating!” “Nah man they’re just friends why wouldn’t they share a room if they were together [worth noting at this point they don’t realize isak’s been sneaking into even’s bed basically every night but don’t worry they will eventually]” “okay if they’re not together they’re definitely pining and should get their shit together bc if I have to see Even give Isak another soppy look over breakfast when he’s not looking i’m going to fucking lose it”

Up until the day they’re sitting at the kitchen table and Even is like “okay i’m gonna get some groceries now” and isak leans over the table to give him a peck on the lips and says “kay love you” and their roommates are like “oh???? you two have finally started dating then??????” and Isak frowns and says “we’ve been dating for three years” and Even yells from the other room “BUT ISAK HAS BEEN IN LOVE WITH ME SINCE HE WAS SEVEN” and their roommates’ brains have completely short-circuited

later isak is still frowning like “didn’t we tell them??? i could have sworn we told them” and even is like “do you remember what you said when we first met” and isak is like “i said i’m isak and this is my boy even” and then he’s quiet for a second and he says “oh”

a year or two after that whole mess their roommates cannot believe they ever even doubted but for the most part they’re good roommates and keep the noise levels down so everything is chill [except it’s hard to hang out with them sometimes not because they engage massively in PDA although sometimes they do but because their conversations include so many layers of inside jokes, years and years of them, it’s hard for someone not well versed in the isak-and-even language to follow]

They probably have a dog. maybe two

as of this very second i hope they’re both asleep isn’t it like almost 5 am over there lol

hope this is what you were looking for anon =] thanks for the ask, it was fun to think about these boys again!

[my-darling-boy]

hello! i really want to learn more about ww1, i saw 1917 and it sparked something in me and ww1 specifically seems so complex and interesting, but it is has a lotttt of information, do u have any advice for any specific things to read/learn about first? or should i just dive in head first and learn about random stuff?

Good question! Also, I’m REALLY happy 1917 is bringing in a lot of new people wanting to learn more about WWI!

The good news is I find WWI is a subject that naturally allows you to branch out your knowledge no matter where you start. My best tip for learning more about the history: start out with ANY area that interests you, find a fact about it, and see where it takes you! I guarantee you’ll start out just wanting to know a little more about food served in the trenches and by the end of the week, you’ll be chest deep in a million other things you got caught up in learning!

For example, one of the first things that got me interested in WWI was a memoir (which I HIGHLY recommend) by Vera Brittain: Testament of Youth. From there, I researched her brother, Captain Edward Brittain and stumbled upon the story of his death and his homosexuality. It led me to Geoffrey Thurlow, a friend he showed clear evidence of having been in love with, and then the changes in male affection during the 1900s. It led me to learn of the “Edwardian Period” and delve into the social, political, and aesthetic aspects of the era. I started watching WWI films, reading academic articles, buying books, and one piece of information led to the next!

If 1917 is what got you into this, that’s a good sign! Cos I bet you were just as hurt as I was seeing depictions of that tragedy and were moved by that heartbreak! But while you’re learning about uniforms and trench foot and so on, I think a good chunk of time should also be dedicated to understanding why it’s simultaneously important to be critical of the war, and understand more about why people were very critical of it at the time, and the lasting impact it had on soldiers all the way up to young people today because it’s a HUGE theme throughout the conflict. I do a much more eloquent job explaining it in an ask someone sent me about my interest in studying, but like I said, VERY important to understand the extent of its effects and how what happened catalysed the modern lust for violence, and why a lot of mainstream remembrance efforts today end up exploiting this tragedy for nationalist-like agendas

I will say, even though it’s not filled with as many Insufferable White Boys as the ones found lurking in WWII forums, it’s war, so you still get your fair share of nationalist, white supremacist, imperialist, pro-war, sexist/misogynist pricks, so please do research with discretion and try to avoid these people (i.e. don’t even look at the comment sections on some websites) and watch out for those boasting about how “honourable” it is for boys to have joined up and died for their country at 15 and that there is something “glorious” to be had in war (because is the biggest lie men have invented for themselves and perpetuate the bs well into the 21st century unfortunately)

Some classic things I recommend reading/watching because they got me started on bits of my own research over time and one of them might be of some interest to you:

Testament of Youth, by Vera Brittain (Book)

This true memoir details how the war affected a young British university student and how the tragedies she witnessed led her to become a VAD nurse, feminist, and pacifist. If you are a more visual learner, it was made into a beautifully shot 2014 film (obviously with some inaccuracies and omitted details) and a more in depth BBC miniseries available for free on YouTube. You may also enjoy the books “Letters From a Lost Generation”, “Because You Died”, and “Vera Brittain and the First World War” which give even more information about the Brittains and the war written by the family’s historian

The Christmas Truce commercial everyone still cries over (video)

It’s a couple minutes long, perfectly sums up what draws me to keep studying the war and my love for learning about the unique changes in human connection during the war

All Quiet in the Western Front, by Erich Maria Remarque (Book)

Another classic example of anti-war literature a lot of people start out by reading from a German perspective. You can also watch the 1930 film adaptation of the book if you would like a visual (even if it has American actors)

They Shall Not Grow Old (Film)

AMAZING first hand accounts and original newly remastered footage from the First World War. It’s arguably neautral in its stance on various factors on the war, but it does a tremendous job showing what life was like at the front and giving voices to the soldiers that lived through it to share their stories.

Oh What a Lovely War! (Film)

Another solid (and entertaining) example of media showing high criticism for the war. This film was revolutionary for its time after roughly 50 years of societal silence about the consequences and negative impacts of WWI. It is incredibly condescending and an absolute anti-war gem

Great War Tommy: the British Soldier 1914-18 (Book)

If you’re a visual learner like me and want information about the kit of a British soldier and drill among other kit care details with LOTS of photos, this a GREAT book

British Uniforms and Equipment of the First World War (Book)

Like the above but has a VERY extensive library of photos for uniforms and equipment, and even shows niche patches and what some uniforms look like inside-out! It’s available for download through MLRS Books online

Valiant Hearts (Game)

From the French perspective. Very heartbreaking game about a French soldier produced in a very unique art style and has a wonderful soundtrack. Great if you like causal, story rich games

11:11 Memories Retold (Game)

This very artistic, stylised game tells the story of a Canadian photographer hired to take photos during the war as well as a German soldier looking for his son at the front. Again, superb soundtrack, and excellent if you love causal, story rich games

Shepard’s War, by James Campbell (Book)

A lovely compilation of original artwork and biographical details about E. H. Shepard during his time as an officer in WWI. If you don’t know, Shepard is the illustrator for Winnie the Pooh! Very intriguing to see his depictions of WWI soldiers as someone who was responsible for a childhood classic

Journey’s End, by R. C. Sherriff (Play)

This play tells the story of a trio of British officers on the frontline and how the effects of shellshock has greatly impacted one of the main characters. It was also made into a film in 2018 staring Asa Butterfield, Sam Claflin, and Paul Bettany

Not About Heroes, by Stephen MacDonald (Play)

A play which tells about the gay friendship between wartime poets and officers Siegfried Sassoon and Wilfred Owen

Blackadder: Blackadder Goes Forth (Show)

You might have grown up watching reruns of this show already, but in case you haven’t, it’s the fourth series of the BBC historical comedy show Blackadder and is about as condescending as Oh What a Lovely War, but much less Heavy, aside from the last episode that is. I’ve learned it’s kind of a staple in references made by some reenactment groups :P

YouTube also has TONS of WWI documentaries from every subject under the sun, ranging anywhere from 2 minutes to 2 hours. Obviously it will be a little harder to tell if the information given is without bias, misinformation, or has questionable undertones, but it’s usually a good way to teach yourself how to always be critical of any information you take in, and also a low-maitence way to keep learning. I find it’s nice to keep a balance between informative non-fiction and historical fiction when doing WWI research to keep variation in my study and also to test my ability to tell apart inaccuracies, or just to take a break from the crushing reality of it all!

In conclusion, the answer is jump right in! You’ll learn the ins and outs of WWI research as you go along! The more you learn, the more you’ll get the hang of it!

Happy researching!

[elichorph]

ok hi i’m back with a second character ...

the member of the yale's elite, they're twenty three and a grad student majoring in film & media studies. they are as amicable as they are histrionic.

stats:

full name: gordon minjun teller nicknames: goose. gordon is for business only age: twenty three  birthday: june 13, 1997 chart: gemini sun / cancer moon / leo rising gender: cis male pronouns: he / him sexuality: bisexual & biromantic height: 6′1 hair color: blue (now blonde) tattoos: none piercings: nose stud (right side), earlobes (always have silver hoops in them)

PINTEREST BOARD 

blackmail:

while the public believes that goose’s family retired and moved to another country, this was actually released as a coverup because they went missing. goose withheld information from the court about their last whereabouts which could have prevented it from becoming a cold case.

he was expelled from high school after vandalizing a statue on campus and his uncle paid the school to go back on their decision.

he lost a third of his inheritance money to a cult he briefly followed in his sophomore year of college while looking for guidance.

backstory:

tw: implied death

right at birth, goose was adopted into the teller family who were pretty well known. his father was a young ceo of an oil company in texas. goose’s family eventually became public figures and tabloid favorites after a long riveting love story between his father and mother, who belonged to opposing business families. it really was a quick rise and fall to fame, starting when it was revealed goose’s adoptive mom, grace, couldn’t have kids, he was in her arms not even a month after and right out of them thirteen years later when she disappeared and the family really was never to be heard of again. 

but as the only adopted child into a family who had to keep their public image up, goose’s dreams of being a fun loving kid were crushed. really, it was strictly gordon - gordon on the tabloids, you’d see his baby face like aw thank god grace got to have a kid of her own <3 he was posted up at galas, listening to his dad speak about oil and shit every weekend and going back to his small private school every monday and it was just the same routine conditioning to keep the image of the teller family spotless and to hopefully get gOrDoN to become the next ceo.

that all kind of went to shit though when goose turned 14. his parents miraculously went missing (don’t ask me what happened i don’t even know) one night when he was tucked into bed. seriously, he woke up one morning and they were gone and suddenly there were police storming the house and he was being questioned and things weren’t routine or safe anymore. in order to still save face for the family though, news was quickly put out that the family went on a private vacation while the investigation went on privately. it was taken to court, people signed nda’s, and all little goose knew was that he his parents were going to a party that night and hadn’t told anybody else and he was too scared to tell anyone. at one point goose became the main suspect and he had to put his freshman year of high school on pause, but he was dismissed months after even though he hadn’t shared the detail that they went to a party. if he had shared it, they literally would’ve been found. eventually, there were no new leads, the case was declared cold, and an official statement was put out that the teller parents “retired” and “moved” to a different country that wouldn’t be disclosed and gOrDoN would be under the care of his uncle.

gordon was like mad though haha. even though he’d gotten his family’s entire inheritance as a fifteen year old and should’ve been happy that he was basically a millionaire, he wasn’t used to things not being in the same routine and actually having to make decisions for himself. newsflash, but goose can’t handle emotions really well and he got angry and well i don’t know if you’ve seen donnie darko where donnie literally put an axe through the statue’s head and spray painted “they made me do it” below the statue? but yeah, that. goose wasn’t slick though, got caught by security, and his uncle paid the school to let it slide and then sent goose to a boarding school in maruland.

he spent the last couple years of high school trying to figure out who he actually was outside of the tabloids and the teller name and image, and eventually got the hang of it by the time he enrolled at yale. he started going by goose instead of gordon, went into film instead of business like his family wanted him to and slowly started to blossom into the weirdo he is today <3 his dad was in the elites so he was able to secure a legacy spot and reluctantly said yes to joining. he was kinda quiet the first year, but now he’s all gungho to do charity events and make people happy and shit like that. 

his sophomore year though he kinda doubted the path he was on and his naive ass got roped up into a cult. anyways, he ended up trusting them a lot and donated 1/3 of his family’s inheritance to the cult and kinda blew it. goose was acting hella weird around this time though, i imagine people around him could kinda sense he wasn’t like alright for a few months. anyways someone ended up giving him an intervention about acting kinda whack and he realized and thankfully was able to leave the cult pretty unscathed. but he is deeply, deeply ashamed about his time in the cult though.

personality:

he is one gigantic deranged baby. like he is baby, but he’s also kind of crazy. if goose feels any normal emotion, it instantly bass boosts and he feels it in full. goose genuinely is so sensitive, he’ll physically flinch if you say something merely mean to him because he was used to growing up so perfect that he really can’t take criticism. however, he’ll do his best to patch things up by saying some incomprehensible joke right there and then. the only exception to this is the tabloids. goose has become so immune to them that he will straight up troll them back on twitter because he just doesn’t give two shits.

he’s incredibly kind. so so so kind (not really gentle though). the type to remember your favorite candy bar and hand one to you on a random tuesday. he’ll remember your name even if you’ve only met once and even if you didn’t give him your name, he’ll look it up somehow just so he knows next time. he loves to make jokes all the time. none of them ever make sense, but they’re funny to him and he won’t apologize for it. and he’s LOUD. you probably can hear his cackles and snorts and dramatic screams even when you’re on the other side of campus. he’s just a kid in a candy store excited to finally enjoy life, especially now that things have seemed to settle down. even though he’ll probably have a whole breakdown and a half the first time the blackmailer mentions his name.

yes, he actually believes he’s being haunted by jfk. goose had a string of dreams about him and witnessed some doors opening and closing on their own around the same time, and he quickly jumped to the conclusion and never thought twice about it. another strange belief that goose has? that he’s friends with a ton of a-listers. even though it’s mainly jessica alba, he won’t hesitate to tweet at extremely famous actors and thank them for getting lunch with him even if they’ve never spoke. multiple management companies have his twitter handle blacklisted. while he currently has blue hair, it’s always quick to change. for how much he dyes it, it’s surprising that it doesn’t feel like hay.  if goose feels a mental breakdown coming or simply is bored or needs attention, his hair color will do a straight 180. he hasn’t had a natural hair color since he enrolled at yale.

things that are very goose: beat up yellow high top converse, getting to know every person in existence, having memes plastered over his wall to make him smile after a long day, wearing fancy cologne to the grocery store because one cashier said he smelled good and he thinks it makes them happy to wear that, throwing a shoe across a crowd at a party, going to sulk in the bathroom or leave the party early when a song plays that brings up bad memories, keeping every movie stub, restaurant punch card, and lost button in a little scrapbook just because he wants to remember the good things in life, thinking the karate kid is the best movie to ever exist despite being five years into a film major.

wanted connections

since he doesn’t have any pre-established connections, here are some ones that could kinda be fun

someone who protects his naive ass <3

an ex or old one sided crush who hurt him so bad lmao. they really wouldn’t have to a lot to do that, but it would be juicy if they did

roommate? maybe? he lived in a really shitty apartment his first few years, maybe they convinced him to move out or moved in

or neighbors? like he will knock on their door 3 times a week with half burnt brownies to offer or because he doesn’t know where his tv remote is and needs help

someone who gave him the intervention about like “you’re acting weird are you okay” that indirectly got him to leave the cult and he feels like he’s forever indebted to them

someone who just despises goose and he doesn’t understand why and tries to make things better even though it just makes things worse

family friends? maybe? when he was in ct and his uncle didn’t let him come home with him during the holidays he would go to their house or something like that

gentle romance <3 maybe. Please

he’s their secret admirer and sends them gifts and flowers and writes them bad poems and recommends them shitty romance films

someone who takes advantage of how naive he is

anything <3 come 2 me or i will dm you or venmo you and force u to plot with me

[theartoflovingthomashunt]

HWU101: A Transfer

Masterlists: [Hollywood U] || [Red Carpet Diaries]  || [Baby Hunt]  || [Love & Scotch HWU/OH]  ||  [#HollywoodHacks HWU/LH]

Characters: Alex, Thomas Hunt, Addison Sinclair, Holly Chang, Mike Tanner, Ben Park (#LoveHacks)

Series Background: This takes place in my current Hollywood U AU a couple of years before Love & Scotch. It also is set before the #LoveHacks Choices series. 

Hunt and Alex are dating openly. He had his tenure stripped and they are both on probation, but they are in the clear. With the success of Permanent Wound and the press from outing Richard Sheridan and The Silver Circle, Alex is in high demand. She wants to produce her first movie and Hunt has agreed to direct (coming out of retirement). Now if only they can agree on it!

(This starts off with the canon storyline of them moving forward with Centaurus Lost, but it falls apart at the start of this and moves on with an original story.)

Chapter Synopsis: Hunt agreed to come out of retirement to direct Alex’s first solo-produced film, Centaurus Lost, but the production is going anything but smoothly. Will things change with the arrival of new student, Ben Park?

☆  ☆   ☆   ☆   ☆

 “Cut!” Hunt shouted. His fingers dug through his hair as he turned away trying to gather his thoughts. “Get out! All of you! OUT!”

 “Professor?” Addison questioned, looking up from one of the actors, whose costume she was adjusting. “We still have two more scenes to shoot today.”

“Leave! That includes you, Miss Sinclair. I know how you feel about following directions, but just this once do as you’re told,” Hunt grumbled. “Everyone out! This isn’t working. I need to think.”

“Let’s wrap for today,” Alex stepped forward attempting to calm the cast and crew of Centaurus Lost. “Get some rest and be back tomorrow ready to pick up where we left off.” 

“It’s okay,” Alex continued, noting the looks of uncertainty on the faces of those around her. “Go! Enjoy the beautiful afternoon.”

Alex helped the crew clean up and put the equipment away for the day, her gaze shifting to Hunt. He continued pacing off to the side, deep in thought.

 “Hey.” Alex ran her fingers up Hunt’s back, once everyone else had left. “Tell me what’s going on.”

 Hunt shifted away, Alex’s hand falling beside her.

 “This film isn’t working.” Hunt’s scratched his jaw thoughtfully. “Miss Chang and Mr. Tanner did not stop bickering about the script all day. Every time we went to shoot a scene, one or both of them, decided there should be changes. They both have some ideas of merit, but right now, they’re hurting this film far more than helping it.”

 “Thomas,” Alex breathed. She attempted to move closer, but he avoided her once more.

“I walked away from directing once because studios fed me uninspired projects. I refuse to compromise my artistry or ethics,” Hunt ranted, his gaze stern and unrelenting. “As I said, the project has to be right for me and this one isn’t working.”

“Let’s just talk about this,” Alex suggested.

“I know how much you wanted this to work… You’re the producer, find some way to fix this!” Hunt paused for a moment before continuing. “Or... I’m leaving this production.”

Alex felt her eyes misting at his tone. “Fine!”

“Alex,” his voice was softer now at the hurt in her eyes. He moved closer.

She shook him away. “Compartmentalize. I know.”

He nodded. “Go fix this. Convince me why I should take a chance on this film when so many facets of it are falling apart already.”

Alex turned and walked away. She didn’t dare look back. The past few days had been a strain between them. Even if they had agreed not to bring work home, it was hard to turn her feelings on and off. It was one thing when she was just balancing Professor Hunt, with boyfriend Hunt, now she also had business partner and director Hunt to keep separate.

 She knew before she could fix the film, she had to save the screenplay. 

Alex texted Holly and Mike. “Campus Brew. 30 minutes. This is not an option. Be there or you’re out.”

“Nice try, sweetheart. You can’t make my movie without me,” Mike replied.

“Whose movie?” Holly answered. “I believe I’m the lead writer. My name is first on the script.”

“Relax, Pixie Dream Girl. No use getting mad and looking all hot when I’m not there to see,” Mike argued.

“ENOUGH! Act like professionals. Show up for this meeting. Or breach your contracts and be out. I’m serious.”

No wonder this film was sinking. These two were never going to play nice, which is why she had chosen a public venue for their meeting, at least that would force them to keep it together to some extent. (She hoped.)

Alex stormed into the coffee shop, barely looking up from her phone as she followed the heated text exchange from her screenwriters. At this point, nothing short of an epiphany would save the film and she knew it. Hunt was right. 

“Ahh!” A deep voice startled her as she bumped into someone, scattering their books and papers all over. 

“I’m so sorry! I wasn’t even looking.” Alex quickly apologized. “This is all my fault.”

“It’s okay, Jesse Quick,” He chuckled more to himself than anything else. He adjusted his glasses.

“I’m not sure who Jesse is?” She looked at him curiously. “I’m Alex!”

“She’s just..." He paused, noting how Alex’s red shirt hugged her petite figure and the way her brown hair appeared windblown from seemingly rushing off, perhaps to save Central City. His mind had already begun sketching her before he could stop it. Everywhere he looked he saw inspiration. He quickly shook the thoughts from his head as he noted the change in her expression. "You just kind of remind me of a character from one of my favorite shows.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” She smiled softly. 

“You should! She’s great.” He bent down to pick up his fallen papers. 

“These are amazing,” Alex marveled as she helped collect his scattered sketches. “You’re very talented… I don’t think I ever got your name.” 

“I’m Ben, Ben Park,” he repositioned his books and sketches in his arm so he could shake her hand. 

“Nice to meet you, Ben. I don’t think I’ve seen you around campus before,” she noted. She would definitely remember a face like that. 

“It’s actually my first day,” Ben admitted. “I just transferred from Grantmore University.” 

“In that case, can I buy you something to drink? It’s the least I can do for running into you,” Alex suggested. 

“You don’t have to do that,” he replied. 

“I want to,” Alex insisted. “I can offer you some tips about classes and any professors you may have–if you’re interested and have a few minutes.”

“I don’t want to intrude, you look like you have a lot going on,” he smiled shyly. 

“I’ve got a few minutes before my meeting. You’d actually be doing me a favor, keep me busy until then?” 

“Okay,” he agreed. 

“Great! So tell me more about yourself, Ben. What are you studying? Please tell me you’re here as a graphic artist, because if not you need to change majors ASAPs,” Alex laughed, she didn’t mean to come off so insistent, but she meant what she said. She ordered coffee for the two of them. 

“I am.” Ben blushed at the compliment. “I’m also looking into the writing program.”

“Oh, do you want to be a screenwriter?” Alex questioned. “I’m actually meeting with two screenwriters in a bit if you want to meet them.” 

Alex hesitated after she made the suggestion. Perhaps Holly and Mike were not the best exemplars of the program… at least, not at the moment. 

“I’m more interested in writing a graphic novel.” His fingers grazed a sketchbook, that he held tightly. “I’ve written drafts of a few ideas, but…”

“Do you mind if I take a look?” Alex asked cautiously. She knew how temperamental some writers could be about their unfinished work. 

“They’re probably not good,” he shook his head, considering her request. 

“You got to start somewhere, right?” Alex offered.

Ben reluctantly handed her his sketchbook containing his draft of an outer space superhero adventure. 

Alex leaned back in the armchair in the coffee shop and began flipping through his draft. Page after page, her expression changed as the story hit highs and lows. She followed the characters through joyful, devastating, and humorous moments. “This is really good, Ben.”

“You don’t have to say that,” he took his sketchbook back. 

“I mean it. It’s really good! You should definitely look into the writing program. Clearly you have a talent for it too!” She encouraged him. 

Alex and Ben continued drinking their coffees while Alex waited for Holly and Mike to arrive. Her mind had lightened with seeing the joy in his eyes as they talked about his creations, it was a lovely sight. One she had almost forgotten about while on the set of Centaurus Lost. No, it wasn’t just joy, it was passion. Passion for his creations, that’s what was missing on set. She just needed to figure out how to inspire Holly and Mike to that level of creative passion. If the screenplay had heart, the rest of everything would fall into place.

☆  ☆   ☆   ☆   ☆

Perma tags: @lilyofchoices ; @simplymissjulia ; @mfackenthal ; @the-soot-sprite ; @virtuallytakenby ; @zeniamiii ; @kaavyaethanramsey; @choicesobsessed; @xjustin-ethansgirliex

Thomas Tags: @alleksa16  ;    @flyawayboo    ;  @alj4890  ;  @twin-skltns   ;    @ab1901 ;   @riseandshinelittleblossom  ; @hopelessromantic1352  ;   @thearianam  ; @trappedinfandoms; @zodiacsign1 ; @curiouslittlefreak ; @sharrybh20​ ; @awkwardambition ; @jodibo ;

[axclfms]

hllo demons n space cowboys !! i’m sage  comin 2 u live frm the est tz with a v red dash icon tht i can’t be bothered to change atm .   anyways  ,  shimmies shoulders  im v v excited to be here with my child axel  so let me just diiiiive right into her ! pls hit me up or spank tht lil heart if you’d like to plot and i’ll come runnin. 

「charlotte d’alessio & cisfemale」⇾ medici , axel, the junior radcliffe student’s records show that she is a scorpio and 20 years old. she is studying fine arts & photography, living in noland and can be passionate, magnetic, heedless & addictive. when i see her i am reminded of catfishing passport photos, shoplifting out of pure boredom & empty film canisters used as pill holders . ⇽

alrite first things first HERE is her pinterest ,  feel free to skip all the junk below  & just vibe check her

BACKGROUND

born & raised in southlake, tx  to oliver & pearl medici

they were high school sweethearts who were voted most likely to get married and have a dozen kids running around

they stopped at 2 bc they just .. their kids were a handful  . . . but axel will tell you they stopped after her bc they hit perfection :~)

the medici’s come from a long line of politicians  &  are all associated with the political world in one form or another  

her father dreamt of becoming president  &  honestly was beginning to climb his way there

started off by getting elected as mayor  &  then from mayor went onto join the state’s senate & was working on his campaign for governor of tx

axel & her older brother adored their father & played their part , knowing that even the smallest mistake cld wreck their dad’s way to the top... even if it didn’t matter now, if he were to run his presidential campaign they would surely be digging for anything to take him down .  aside frm some partying & drinking , they never did anything too too wild

her brother ended up going to yale for college, not wanting to be too far from him but wanting a break from her parents  &  texas  ,  axel applied to radcliffe bc she knew the ivy life wasn’t for her

and something about radcliffe’s history drew her in

last year right before midterms , axel got a phone call tht turned her world upside down .  her dad had gotten into a car accident.  after getting rushed to the ER, he ended up dying from complications in surgery.  he was in the early stages of his campaign for governor & was on his way to meet his team.

it was ruled as an accident &  that seemed to be that on that. & everyone went ahead and moved on with their lives

axel still wants to believe that there was foul play in her father’s death mainly bc she wants to blame someone

frm her eyes her mom n brother have healed without any trouble. her brother had gone back to school, graduated from yale and jetted off to south africa with his new gf where they were working for a non profit . her mom had started dating someone new within six months.

PERSONALITY

the whole thing has taken an impact on her n she’s just ... a lot more darker or wilder nw. think bradley martin frm bates motel or marissa cooper frm the oc

was probably head of social committee and heavily involved in the school. was also a cheerleader but went to practice high as balls one too many times , and eventually got kicked off the team.

lost a bet & graffiti’d the school building , got ratted out and spent a month of her summer doing community service and picking up trash.

if you knew her during freshman year and half of sophomore year ,  she is probably a completely different person nw.

pops xanax like they’re vitamins , is constantly day drunk , always has a flask hidden in a designer purse. has low key developed a little bit of a coke habit

rly good at putting on a facade of perfection when she needs to but truly feels like she has nothing left to lose so she says whatever pops into her mind, likes to stir up trouble when she’s bored n has rly just turned into a firecracker n is jus kinda.. ruthless nw

wld hit on someone’s dad out of pure boredom 

uses sex as an outlet to feel in control, to feel good , to feel wanted

only thing that she’s still passionate about is art and photography .

photography inspo is probably sarahbahbah , where she likes to shoot things in series with a film vibe to it.

catch her walking around with hints of paint on her hands , not sleeping bc she’s trying to perfect her latest piece

always sketching or doodling , probably has a film camera slung around her neck or dangling frm her wrist

human embodiment of the cherry & wilted rose emoji

big on skin care and doing face masks and only says ‘self love’ ironically. usually after she spins herself into chaos

big aesthetic would b phoebe tonkin lookin sad and depressed at the farmer’s market carrying around flowers 

ok that is all i got .... ty for prowling thru this if u did. also she is a fairly new muse of mine so if ... she ends up changing once she hits the dash MIND UR BUSINESS alskslks jkkk

WANTED CONNECTIONS

we love angst & fictional toxicity over here! hit me w any & all of ur toxic wcs

a good influence for her

someone who she used to be bff’s with but shut them out when everything went down and now it’s just ... awkward between them

someone who she didn’t get along with before but now they’re pals

unlikely friends!

a ride or die friendship

a confidant .. hit me with those 12 am late night heart to hearts with no filter NO CAP!

someone who ratted her out for vandalizing

hook ups  wld be fun ! tinder matches, one night stands etc. 

someone who axel just completely fucked over in some way (romantic or platonic) 

truly anything i am dwn for ! thnk u and good night