#anyways since that grade's in I just have to turn in my thesis chapter and then I'll have all the grades

[ayakashibackstreet]

Ye boiiiii, got my Japanese grade for last semester and it's a 5, woooooo

[hansolmates]

jjk; angel’s trumpet [03]

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, mentions of smut in future chapters w.c; 5k a/n; we’re finally getting into some traction with the main plot! who are we liking more so far, w1!jk or w2!jk?? 

[02] [03] [04]-> masterpost

Instead of going to the doctor, you take a trip to the library. If Namjoon thinks your ideas are  supernatural, you’re going to find someone who believes in the supernatural. 

He calls you in the morning just to make sure you’re going to his recommended doctor.  You fabricate a lie that the doctor friend he recommended is busy so you’re going to go find another one in the meantime. Just in case Namjoon decides to ask said doctor about your current mental and physical state, you want to make sure you cover your tracks. As much as you want to give it another go and help Namjoon understand your precarious situation, you weren’t up for another possibility of rejection. 

You wanted to avoid Namjoon’s rejection so much that you’d rather turn to unconventional alternatives to finding your answer. 

Unfortunately, Tony Stark and Steven Strange do not exist in this universe, and therefore you need to turn to more practical measures. 

Seoul University has a zillion libraries, and you decide to go to the general library in the hopes you’ll find something in the subject of world-hopping. Unfortunately you haven’t been in a huge library since you were a senior in college, and the smell of paper, sad students and ink all but overwhelms you. 

You’re about to start wandering when a young voice snatches your attention. “Miss,” you feel a tug at your belt loop, and you notice a little boy looking up at you with a pout. “I lost my way after using the bathroom and I can’t find the daycare.”

A little part of you wonders who on earth could’ve let a boy no older than five out of their sights, especially in such a spacious building. Alas, you smile and offer him your hand, suggesting that the two of you look for a map. 

“Well it’s a good thing we found each other!” you say brightly, encouraging the kid to follow you to the kiosk, “I was just about to look for a map because I’m a little lost too, we can read it together.” 

The boy tells you his name is Bogum, and you respond with yours and explain that it’s okay to get lost, especially when this library is so big. He listens to you with rapt attention, wide eyes as you spell out the words “daycare” using the little paper map you brought with you from the lobby. 

Bogum and you stop in front of a plain room with a cheap powder blue baby gate, deep in the children’s section of the library. It’s there that you spot five or so children huddled over the flatscreen television, ‘oh’ and ‘ah’-ing over whatever film’s prattling on. You’re not surprised that Frozen 2 remains a sensation in both worlds. 

Bogum opens the door first, and you make eye contact with the only adult in the room. He’s lean and friendly-looking, holding a child in their lap as they sing along to “Into the Unknown”. Your heart is caught in your throat, begging to be released as your eyes widen in surprise. 

“Hobi!” you blurt instinctively, but you immediately clamp your mouth upon realizing. You really need to get used to this, but honestly how can anyone get used to this kind of situation? Hoseok will definitely be the fourth person you’ve alarmed in the past five days. 

Hoseok’s jaw drops slightly, head tilted as the rest of the mini-crew train their eyes on you. You shrink in the presence of children, knowing from experience nothing gets by them. 

“Is that your girlfriend, Hobi-ah?”

“Do you know her, Mr. Hoseok?” 

“She looks scared, what did you do?” 

The affronted man presses his lips in a thin line, “Dunno,” he answers vaguely. He seems unperturbed, hands settling in his traffic cone orange sweatpants. He gestures to the snacks in the middle of the room, releasing the children��s inner fire for food, “but it’s fruit snack time! Go ahead and grab your water from the cubbies, you can eat while you watch.” 

The babies cheer, and you smile fondly as the kids rip open their packets and giggle over Olaf. You wish you could go back to simpler times. 

“So,” Hoseok stands up, and gestures for you to sit at the small kids table in the back, “Do I know you? I don’t know if I know you, but I feel like I know you. Because you know me.” 

Deciding you need to sit down for his bombardment you squeeze your legs into the worn Fisher-Price desk, running your nails over the crayon stains and pencil shavings. “Uh, no?” 

“Did we have a class together? Hook-up? Friend’s hook-up that I tried to coerce into a threesome?” 

“Ohmygod, there are children here!” you hiss, but Hoseok just smiles plainly, offering you a bag of fruit snacks that he snagged before the children emptied his bowl. You accept the gesture, unable to make eye contact. 

Seeing the members out of their clan of seven is still jarring to you. You can’t imagine a world without the seven of them together. Like they always say, Bangtan is fate. 

“I just wanted to return Bogum,” you say, crinkling the foil bag in your grasp, “and I’m actually looking for a professor who has her office hours here. I have uh, questions on my thesis on alternate universes.” 

“Ah, are you referring to Professor Song?” you nod, “she cancelled her office hours for today, if you bothered to email her. And anyways, she doesn’t take kindly to questions on supernatural phenomena. Not since her latest book on paranormal channeling tanked.”

Your face visibly falls, dejected. You probably should’ve tried to schedule an appointment. “O-oh.” 

“But as a non-judgemental soul, I would be happy to assist you on your ‘thesis’.” Hoseok  air-quotes, noting that the kids are only in the very beginning of Frozen 2 and they have a whole hour and a half to their own devices. “And in exchange, I want to know the real reason as to why you’re looking for her, especially because you referred to me so excitedly as Hobi, and not Hoseok,” he crosses his arms, “and only my mother and sister have the right to call me that.” 

You feel like a kid sent to the time-out corner, inevitably forced to fess up. It didn’t work out as well as you hoped with Namjoon, and you feared to be disappointed when Hoseok disagreed with you as well. Of course, you can’t blame them. If Hoseok came up to you and said he came from an alternate universe, you’d run for the hills. 

But Hoseok is sweet and sincere, and he’s definitely not letting you go. In fact, he’s empathetic, already distressed from seeing you sweating and wringing the poor fruit snack packet. 

He drags over a mini chalkboard cart, poised to take notes. “C’mon, I won’t bite.” 

You frown, “Promise you won’t laugh at me until the very end?” 

“Promise.” 

Forty minutes later and in the turning point of Frozen 2, Hoseok has drawn up what looks like a convoluted flowchart detailing every single thing you’ve said up until this point. It reminds you of a child’s drawing, symbolizing all the dead-ends and turns of your life, but you’re sure Hoseok doesn’t want to hear that. 

Within the first ten minutes of your story, Hoseok is shaking his head. “That’s crazy. C’mon, prove it. If we’re really friends in an alternate universe, how much do you know about me?” 

Hoseok's face falls farther and farther into his lap as you respond with a straight face. His birthday, favorite foods, hobbies, music taste, and even feelings towards melodramatic movies are laid out in your words like a personal diary. 

He crosses his arms, narrowing his eyes. “Tell a secret that you know about me.” 

That stumps you. You make a face, stuffing a strawberry gummy in your mouth as you think about any conversation you could’ve possibly had with Hoseok in the past year. There’s a possibility that whatever happened to Hoseok in your world hasn’t happened in this one, but you have to at least try. 

With as much confidence as you can muster you say, “When you were in the 3rd grade, your older sister was playing with sticks in your backyard and accidentally stabbed you.” 

He narrows his carmine eyes, “Where?” 

“Left breast,” you chirp, “under the nipple.” 

Hoseok’s face twists like he’s in the 8th dimension, and he clutches his left breast comically. “You’re either psychic or telling the truth,” he marvels, nearly cracking the bud of chalk in his fingertips. 

You fight the urge to sigh in relief, running a hand through your hair. You can’t believe that actually worked. 

“Okay so obviously because I need to know my alter-self, what’s Jung Hoseok like in World One?” 

“World One?” you snort. 

“Yeah, since it’s your home world. This is World Two, because this is your second reality.” He says as if it’s the most obvious thing, waving his hands in the air. 

“You’re a rapper and incredible dancer in the world’s top boy band.” and Hoseok doesn’t know whether to think you’re an impeccable actor or really telling the truth by the way you smile so tenderly. “And you managed to get your mom the barbeque restaurant she always wanted. Best place for pork belly wraps.”  

And because you know he’s a softie for his mother, you already have a tissue stretched out for him, confirming that you have him convinced. Seeing it all laid out terrifies him, not because he’s scared of someone infiltrating his reality, but because you’re lost. You’re lost and you can’t go home and he can feel like he’s known you all this time. Not because you know every single fact about him under the sun, but something tells him you were meant to find him today. 

“So, you got hit by a truck in World One, and end up in World Two just like that?” you nod again, and Hoseok starts to line up whatever code he’s created on the blackboard. “What were you doing before that?” 

“I went drinking with my friend Sehlyung.” 

“Uh-huh, and before that?” 

“Got into a fight with the guy I love.” 

“Oh, sorry.” 

“Even worse, he ended up being the first person I met once I entered your world.” 

Hoseok blinks, “That’s gotta count for something, right?” 

Your face sours, “Impossible. Jungkook didn’t recognize me either.” 

“Anything else happened that day? Perhaps something to do with the both of you? It can’t just be coincidence,” Hoseok insists, and you almost see the potential theories looming over his head. 

Wishing you bought some aspirin on your way, you pinch your brows together. You’ve recollected that night one too many times that it’s been starting to overwhelm you. You hate thinking back to how harshly Jungkook rejected you. How much his words pierced you clean like you were soft and breakable. The twist in the knife was seeing him again in this world, only for him to reject you again for an entirely different reason. 

“Wait,” you bite your lip, the final memory from your last conversation with Jungkook resurfacing. 

“Maybe in another world, we’d work out. But not this one.”

“He said maybe we’d be together in another world,” you say slowly, the words sinking in your form like a key to a lock. 

Hoseok snaps his fingers, a huge white grin beaming on his face. “Shit, this is straight out of the Twilight Zone or something. Cool!” 

It’s then that the credits roll for Frozen 2, and the children are pouncing on him like leeches to a sweet treat. They laugh and beg for his attention, teasing him because he said the s-word. 

“I’m sure this Jungkook kid has something to do with why you’re here—ow, Haneul! My hair is precious!” Hoseok is busy fending off kids and trying to continue your conversation. He gets up from the tiny chair to prevent them from reaching, and you follow suit. “In the meantime,” he reaches for your phone, typing something, “here’s some books Professor Song recommended to me when I was fascinated in alternate universes. Maybe they’ll help, I don’t know. But good luck, update me when you get a chance! I work here most days.” 

“Thanks Hoseok,” and before you can second guess yourself, you find space between the children to wrap your arms around him. Thankfully, he doesn’t push you away, and hugs you back just as tightly. You can’t help it, and bury your face into his shoulder, trying to conceal your sobs. He even smells like World One Hoseok. You miss them. 

The rest of your afternoon is spent in the library, searching for book after book regarding the supernatural and other phenomena. A little part of you hoped Hoseok would join you in your navigation, but he had a job and you had yours. He already offered you an ear and much, much more. 

You feel a little stir-crazy, despite the fact that these books could contain important information, only Jungkook’s words seem to register in your brain. 

“Maybe in another world, we’d work out. But not this one.”

You groan, stretching out your back so you could reach the final book out of Hoseok’s recommendations. You blush when your joints complain about your lack of exercise and sudden exertion of physical activity. This last one just so happens to be on the highest possible shelf. There’s really no need to have more than five books on supernatural phenomena, but you’re already here and it’s vermillion red cover is taunting you like a bull to its matador. 

Fuck it. Making sure no librarians are watching, you hop on the first shelf, heels dangling in the air. You could climb trees like it was nothing when you’re a child, but ten years later you can feel all the joints in your body protest at the sudden bout of athleticism. 

Alas, even with the added height you can barely reach the top, fingers brushing over the hardcover. You’re starting to sweat with nerves, thankful for the whirring of the icy air conditioner. With a sigh you attempt to climb on the next highest shelf, until the familiar smell of detergent and florals invades your personal space. Even his scent is the same. 

“Y’know, there’s a help desk for a reason.” 

Your shoulders slump as Jungkook wordlessly instructs you to get down from the shelf. You feel the warmth of his palm shadow your back, not touching you but prepared to in the event you slip and fall. With a cross of your arms, you hug your books to your chest, refusing to make eye contact as he retrieves the book for you. Call it being petty, or overly defensive because of past events, but you’re not ready to talk to Jungkook right now. 

Conversely, Jungkook is piqued. He’s lived here for the past six years and it’s the first time he’s seen you in this library. Twice in the span of two weeks is definitely something worth noting, especially when his new co-worker just so happens to be friends with you. 

In fact he’s excited, curious. He just entered the library, dropping off some proofs for his graduate school’s office when he spotted you in the corner of one of the shelves, determined. Something warm and light brings a smile to his face when he sees how endearing you look trying to get that too-high book. Despite the fact that he’s still on the fence about your sanity, he wants to make sure you don’t almost-die a second time from head injury. 

“Here ya go,” He easily grabs the book and Jungkook is prepared to plop the book in your pile, but you’re hugging the others so tightly that he has to wedge it between two other ones. 

You press your lips together as Jungkook goes into your personal space, miffed that you’re being a little defensive. After all, you’re embarrassed from the last time you saw him and you’re heart is beating wildly, confused over the man in front of you. It takes a wiggle before you concede, letting him tuck the red novel between two other larger books. 

“Thanks,” you mumble, nodding at him once before swiftly turning the corner, skirt swishing. 

The smile on his face is wiped clean when you don’t even bother to spare him a little eye contact. 

“Hey, wait up!” he exclaims, and he’s immediately shh’ed by at least five students and an angry librarian. He deflates, giving sheepish bows as he walk-runs after you. 

He feels like the tables have turned, now he’s the one chasing after you. Should he apologize for leaving you on the sidewalk two weeks ago? Should he offer to hold your books, or drive you home? Maybe not drive you home, because he brought his bike today and he fears that you may be traumatized by the fact that you almost ate pavement under his wheels. If he has to ease into it, maybe he could offer his phone number up as compensation for accidentally almost-killing you? Suggest that his number is for you to contact him as an IOU. Smooth. 

You look over your shoulder briefly, suppressing a groan as Jungkook makes it painfully obvious that this is not the end of your interaction. He’s boring into you, looking past you and his eyes are dark with information. As much as you want to know what’s going on in his mind, seeing Hoseok and Jungkook within the same hour is wholly overwhelming, especially when you just laid your whole life story out to Hoseok in a daycare. 

He’s now staring holes in your back as you hand over your books and work identification to the unsuspecting librarian, who chalks up your awkwardness between two friends toeing around a relationship. To the unsuspecting eye, it’s not out of the ordinary. You can’t just tell Jungkook to “kindly fuck off because I’m still processing your existence” because he’s really done nothing wrong. Inevitable, you let him heat your skin with his imploring eyes until he starts to squirm like a garden snake. He’s waiting for you, silently begging you to turn your head and acknowledge how hard his brain is working right now. This boy is always after attention. 

Finally, you spare him. “Yes?” you say softly, keeping your focus on the bookkeeper checking you out as Jungkook hovers over your form. 

“Uh,” he scratches his head, searching for words, “are you hurt? Y’know, from the other day?” 

“Judging from the way I was prepared to climb the shelves, no,” you stuff the books in your tote bag, “are you hurt?” 

“Uh, no.” 

“Okay. That’s good.” You brush past him, making it a blatant point to stride out the first door you see. 

Even with all the telltale signs, Jungkook continues to feel something. An urge, a bell, something. He doesn’t know what, but he’s compelled to follow you. For a small thing you sure know how to walk, and he has to pump his legs a little to catch up with your speedy form. 

He follows you to the middle of the campus courtyard, where students are lounging about and studying or playing football. It’s already starting to turn dark, and the orange sky sits impatiently on your bodies as you try to walk as fast as possible to your apartment. 

“Hey—hey, c’mon!” his long legs manage to get close enough to you, but he has to halt as soon as you stop, whipping around to glare at him. 

Jungkook stumbles as you’re centimeters away from him, visibly annoyed. You’re super close, impossibly close to him. He holds his breath, fearing he’d fan your face and you wouldn’t appreciate his chicken-salad breath. He doesn’t understand why you’re upset, but he wants to jab a thumb between your brows and even out the adorable expression that pinches your visage. 

“What, do you need something from a stranger?” you bite icily, and he doesn’t understand the pang in his chest when you refer to each other as strangers. It’s true, you are, but you don’t have to be so harsh about it. 

“I, I just want to know why you knew my name,” he replies weakly, hands going up as if he committed a crime. “Back then, I’ve been confused ever since,” it’s wholly innocent, and genuine, “I just wanted to know if you’re okay, I guess?” 

It’s then you soften, melting like the yolk in the sky. The strap of your bag digs in your palm, the leather probably indenting your skin. 

“I got really drunk last night,” you concede, and at the very least it’s the truth, “probably woke up drunk too. I stumbled outside and when I saw you, and mistook you for another Jungkook I know.” 

You’re pulling this excuse out of your ass, and you hope that someone watching you from above (or below) will give you a reprieve on this one. He seems to believe this notion, probably used to one too many drunk girls fawning over him half-sane. 

“Another Jungkook?” he balks, mouth parting like a baby kitten, “a Jungkook with the same name and face?” 

“Uh kinda, like Mario and Wario?” you say, and you know Jungkook will get the reference if he remains a video game lover, “what’s that called, doppelgangers?” 

“I’m partial to Luigi and Waluigi, but I get it.” he replies with a small smile, proud to have gotten you to open up, even a little. “That’s cool. I’m sorry for freaking out back there.” 

“Understandable,” you look at the grass crunching at your feet. You definitely understood, but it still hurt recollecting the way he pushed you off of him like a bug. “I’m sorry for mistaking you, I just kinda stumbled out of an apartment and got walking, I thought I was in a dream or something.” 

“So uh, where’s this other Jungkook?” and it’s an innocent enough question, and he’s almost boyish about it, rocking back and forth with his hands in his jeans. “I’ve always wanted to meet my own twin, I just didn’t expect them living in Korea and having the same name. That’s like a two for one deal!” 

You wince, avoiding the way Jungkook tries to bend down to match your eyes. “He’s uh, not around anymore. Completely gone,” you mutter. 

Completely gone? Did that mean the person you were worrying about on the streets, the person who you worried over so thoughtfully in place of Jungkook, is dead? 

Jungkook puffs out a breath of air, running a hand through his hair. Boy, does he feel like a piece of shit for bringing up tough memories. “I’m so sorry,” he gushes, voice cracking as he tries to get you to lift your head, “I was just being nosy, alright? The fact that you knew my name freaked me out and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. And when I saw you in the library I pounced but I realize that this is such a huge mistake and—”

“Jungkook,” you hold up a hand, a twinge of a smile barely grazing your lips, “I already told you, it’s understandable you would’ve been freaked out. Don’t blame yourself,” you size him up a little, looking up and down and he automatically straightens his back. He feels his ears heat beneath his hair, “but you look like the type of guy to be too hard on himself.”

He laughs, nodding profusely, “So I’ve been told.” Feeling lighter at the assurance of your feelings, he sticks out his hand, “then can we call a truce?” 

It’s then you see it. 

“Tiger lilies,” you marvel, hands reaching out instinctively to touch the tattoo adorning his arm. It’s the same design, same position, the dark ink vibrant as ever. 

“It’s my birth flower,” he puffs out his chest a bit, feeling elated that someone appreciates the fine art he spent weeks drafting. Tattoos aren’t particularly popular in this area, so he can’t help but feel a little cheeky that someone’s attracted to them. He watches the way your eyes sparkle over the black ink, the most positive emotion he’s gotten out of you since meeting. “Tiger lilies, they mean—”

“Please love me,” you finish, letting go of his arms so it drops to his side. You finally look up at him, and your eyes prick. 

He looks so much like him, it hurts. Seeing Hoseok and Namjoon also pained you considerably, but nothing compared to how much it ached to have Jungkook around, vying for your attention. How well you knew his body, and how much you wish you could hug him. Today he’s even dressed a little similarly to how you’re used to, soft and comfortable in black sweats and a Carhartt hoodie. But this Jungkook isn’t scarred by the industry, and it fills the curiosity that plagued you for days on end. Your Jungkook is always vibrant, but the one in front of you is radiant. He’s young, eager, and ready to take on the world. 

Jungkook grins, impressed by your knowledge. He wonders about your birth flower, and whether you have it tattooed somewhere on your body. “Is that your birth flower too?” he asks, debating on whether or not it’s too late to ask you out for coffee because evening is approaching. Maybe dinner was more appropriate? But it would be like a date? Maybe pizza or McDonalds to keep it casual? 

You see the gears turning in his head, and you feel like you’ve wasted too much time thinking. “Ah, no,” you flounder, rapidly shaking your head, “just some random information I’ve picked up.” 

“Are you into flower meanings?” he tilts his head. 

“Not particularly,” you say ominously, and you try not to ache when he seems disheartened at your lack of elaboration, “but I will be. I’ll see you around, Jungkook.” 

You can tell he has more to say, especially because Jungkook is one to finish what he starts. But you can’t give him that satisfaction now, not when you’re onto something. You spare him a wave over your shoulder, not wanting to see the disappointment in his face when you leave him in the dust for a second time. 

And with that unpromised promise, you go back into the direction of your apartment. You have some extensive research to do tonight. 

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

W1.

Jungkook wakes up to the sun, and he bolts up in his bed. 

“Hey!” he yells to no one in particular, knowing his voice is loud enough to echo throughout the dorm. “Why did no one call me? We had practice!” 

Instead of passing out in the studio he’s wrapped up in his sheets, bundled comfortably as if he’s been in bed for hours. He’s almost disoriented, looking around the room and waiting for someone to barge in and tell him to hurry up and get somewhere. 

After working on his music, the seven of them were supposed to meet up. The plan was to take a nap from ten to eleven, and be at the studio to go over some modifications to a new setlist. However, those plans evidently did not go through, because he had a full night’s sleep for the first time in weeks and that only happens if there’s a schedule cancellation or vacation. 

He feels particularly antsy because he couldn’t work on anything last night. His mind was like tunnel vision, completely filled by visions of you and last night’s fight. It’s frustrating, especially when there’s so much he’s behind on already. 

But today’s a new day. He takes his time in his room, popping out all his joints and doing leg and arm stretches on his mattress. For once, no one’s ushering him away to do the nth task. He mindlessly scrolls his phone, taking note of the insistence for him to return to social media but pins it away for yet another promise of next time. 

Mindlessly clicking his phone button on and off, his wallpaper shows a picture of your back facing the sunset. An old, innocent picture that could be mistaken for a random shot Jungkook stole on an empty night in Dongdaemun. With a sigh he throws his phone somewhere between the sheets, rubbing his eyes. There’s nothing he can do now but move forward, and he takes that in stride. 

But when he walks out of his room, the air feels terse. It’s strange, as if he could cut through the tension in the room with a butterknife. 

He looks on in confusion to see all the other members settled in the living room, hovered over their phones. They’re all still in their clothes from last night as well, grave expressions on their faces. 

Someone’s choked sobs are echoing from a corner of the room, and Jungkook is worried when he sees Taehyung sobbing in Hoseok’s arms. 

“What happened?” he asks, brows knitting together as he walks over to Namjoon, looking over his phone. 

Namjoon immediately presses his phone to his chest, concealing whatever is on the screen. Jungkook’s heart pangs at his block, because Namjoon isn’t one to hide things.  He’s feeling cut out of a secret so deep that it must be either a secret, or something he shouldn’t see. “It’s,” he takes a deep breath, and Jungkook feels it. He feels that whatever Namjoon has to say is going to be hard. 

Seokjin speaks up for the leader, bright eyes that always spark like fireworks now dim. “We got a call from Sehlyung early this morning. Before it got light out she—she was frantic. She said Camille wasn’t answering her calls after they went drinking.” 

No. No. 

“Then BigHit got a call from the hospital. They said a truck hit the curb, knocking her clean,” it doesn’t even sound like Seokjin’s speaking, just the shell of him, regurgitating information. “She’s alive, but it’s critical, no one’s allowed to see her until she’s stable. We don’t know when,” Seokjin bites his lip, choosing his words carefully, “or if, she’ll wake up.” 

Jungkook doesn’t even register that he’s crying until Seokjin pulls him into his arms. 

[morningfears]

Television Romance [Chapter One]

Rating: PG-13 (some swears, nothing major)

Summary: Natalia Adler is a stressed out grad student who attempts to escape the noise of her office by visiting her favorite coffee shop. However, instead of a few hours of writing, she gets a lap full of coffee and a date with the most gorgeous guy she’s ever met.

Word Count: 3.4k

Chapter Two

The graduate student office was usually busy, bustling with activity and overflowing with graduate students working on various research projects or grading coursework as well as undergraduate students seeking assistance with assignments. It was always difficult to concentrate among the din, there was always some conversation or another taking place that was much more interesting than writing yet another proposal, but Tuesdays were the worst.

On Tuesdays, the graduate teaching seminar met in the student office. For an hour each week, the teaching assistants dragged whatever chairs they could find to the center of the room and formed a circle to discuss problems that had arisen in their classrooms, questions they had about university policy, and an article on teaching practices they were assigned to - but never actually did - read. The class was supposed to be useful, a way for them all to prepare for their futures as academics, but it usually turned into a shouting match as the stronger personalities argued over one another about best practices in classroom management. And after, when the dust settled and the faculty facilitator was gone, students who didn’t have a one o’clock class stuck around to catch up on whatever departmental gossip they’d missed throughout the week.

Most days, Natalia was able to tune it all out. Her desk was in the corner, hidden behind a flimsy partition, and her noise cancelling headphones worked wonders to drown out the arguments. She didn’t love catching snippets of pointless conversations about which departmental policies were outdated - they all were - or which graduate students were sleeping together but she made it work. However, today was not one of those days.

She had several important deadlines looming over her head - conference submissions, revisions for a potential publication, the first draft of her thesis proposal, all due within days of one another - and she was feeling overwhelmed. The argument as to whether the department was too hard or too soft on students - or whether professors played favorites - was only making things worse. Instead of subjecting herself to two more hours of torture, she decided to pack up her bag and head to the coffee shop across the street. Even if it was loud, it had to at least be less hostile than the office.

She stood, satchel slung over one shoulder with her cellphone and headphones in hand, and glanced over the top of her partition at the girl who sat across from her. Nicole, like Natalia, wore headphones whenever she worked in the office and only glanced up when Natalia tossed a paperclip at her.

“I’m going to Molly’s,” she announced when Nicole pulled her headphones away from her ears and glanced up at her. Natalia struggled to keep her voice quiet in an attempt to avoid drawing attention to herself, though she was half certain she could yell and still not be heard over her colleagues. However, she remained cautious as the last thing she wanted was for anyone to join her. “You want anything?”

“A new job, a better salary, a husband who takes out the trash… I could go on,” Nicole answered, rolling her neck and grinning tiredly at Natalia’s deadpan expression. “I’ll settle for a caramel latte, though. With almond milk and extra caramel, please. I’ll Venmo you.”

“I’ve got it,” Natalia assured her with a wave of her hand as Nicole reached for her cellphone, “you got me boba last week. You have class at three, right?”

“Don’t remind me,” Nicole sighed as she dropped the device, straightened up in her chair, and pulled a face as she glanced at the syllabus tacked to her partition wall. “We’re going over how Marxism influenced Burke today. I think I’d rather chew off my own foot than try to teach a group of undergrads about either Marxism or Burke.”

“I know the point of college is to make kids think,” Natalia began as she hoisted her bag a little higher on her shoulder and ambled around her partition to stop beside Nicole’s desk, “but I’m glad I got the class that’s a little more, ‘well, duh,’ than that. We’re going over how fundamentally fucked the US healthcare system is today.”

Nicole paused for a moment, staring at Natalia with a look that reeked of both annoyance and exhaustion, before she dropped her head to her desk and asked, “Is it too late to drop out?”

This was a conversation they’d had at least once a week since their first semester of graduate school and Natalia bit back a laugh as she nodded. “Yep. You’re halfway through your thesis proposal, no quitting now,” she pointed out as she nodded toward the stack of books on religious rhetoric that Nicole had stacked on her desk. “Anyway, only eight more months until we’re free.”

“I’m three pages in,” Nicole informed her, a pitiful whine erupting from her throat as she lifted her head and ran a hand through her unwashed curls. “This is going to be a long semester.”

Natalia, who had been under the impression that she was impossibly behind although she only lacked a completed methodology section, grimaced upon learning just how far behind Nicole was. She gave her friend a gentle pat on the shoulder and, although she had her own deadlines to meet, offered her assistance. “I’ll probably be sticking around after class tonight,” she informed her as she thought about the papers she still needed to grade, “if you need me to help with anything, just let me know.”

“Thanks,” Nicole sighed as she turned in her chair and smiled at Natalia, the exhaustion evident in her features although they were only a month into the semester. “I’m thinking about a writing party on Friday so that people can submit conference papers and then go get hammered after. You in?”

“Always down for drinks after opening myself up for rejection. You can send out an email and maybe follow up with a GroupMe or something. Your husband won’t mind you spending Friday with us?” she asked as she glanced over at the group of students, now talking instead of arguing, that still remained in the room. Although they got on her nerves sometimes, she had grown to love most of them.

“He’s going to a football game with some friends. If I stay home, I’ll just end up falling asleep in the tub with a glass of wine. I’ll send the email after class,” Nicole answered as she grabbed her headphones and moved to reposition them onto her ears. “Go, get out of here before someone stops you. You’ll be back by three?”

“Yeah, I’ll be back before you have to leave. I’ll text you when I’m on my way over. See you in a bit,” Natalia hummed as she tapped the top of Nicole’s partition before maneuvering around the group that crowded the doorway and stepping out into the hall.

The building itself wasn’t that busy, it rarely was, but campus was teeming with students as Natalia stepped outside. They typically opted for afternoon classes rather than morning ones and it was obvious that classes held after lunch were the most populated as she watched students wander from building to building. Her own undergraduate experience had been very different - classes as early in the morning as she could get them and work in the afternoons until late at night - but she understood the desire to take advantage of the opportunity.

As a graduate student, her schedule was a little different. She was usually the first one to arrive in the office, just to get a little work done, and held office hours during lunch. She was a TA for a class that met on Tuesdays and Thursday at three and had her own classes to attend, with each of the three meeting once a week, starting at six p.m. and ending at around ten. 

She was busier than she had ever been, even busier than the two years she spent working two jobs and overloading her class schedule. It was harder and lonelier than undergrad had been. She had little time to feel human or socialize without anyone outside of her program, however, she told herself that it would all be worth it when she finished and had a master’s degree under her belt.

Natalia made the most of the few minutes it took her to walk from her office to Molly’s, the closest coffee shop to campus that wasn’t the always crowded Starbucks in the library. She rarely got to enjoy her days. They were usually spent locked in the office or cooped up in the library, neither of which had enough windows. Although it was September, fall still seemed a lifetime away. 

She could still smell summer as an occasional ocean breeze wafted through campus. The sun was bright and high in the sky and the air was warm. It felt like the height of summer, as it usually did in Los Angeles, and she was grateful that she’d chosen to wear a dress instead of pants as the slight breeze kept her from overheating as she entered Molly’s.

The little coffee shop was every Instagram obsessed student’s dream. The exterior was nondescript with plain white walls and a small patio with string lights and a few small tables, however, the interior more than made up for it. There were walls covered with ivy - though Natalia didn’t know if it was real or not - and neon signs littered around the space. There was also a loft with tables and chairs that always seemed to be quieter than the rest of the shop.

It had all been too much for her the first time she visited. It seemed gimmicky, not the kind of place she wanted to frequent even if it was convenient, however, her opinion changed the moment she tried the coffee. Her predecessors in the program hadn’t been wrong in telling her that it was the best coffee she could get and that it served as a good hideout when the office got to be too much to handle. She understood why it was frequented by both students and the outside community, even if it took them too close to campus.

Although the coffee shop was bustling with students rushing in and out between classes, filled with the sounds of conversation and the excitement that came with a new school year, it still seemed quieter than the office. After ordering her iced coffee and settling into a table near the entrance, Natalia slipped her headphones back on and bit her lip in concentration as she opened her laptop and began working on the revisions she’d gotten back from her co-author.

It was difficult, not paying attention to the patrons that entered the shop as she loved people watching, but Natalia kept her eyes on her screen and typed away. If she had glanced up, she might have seen the looks that people threw one another as two men entered the shop. She might have seen how a few snuck pictures with their cellphones or how others whispered excitedly as they passed them by. But she didn’t. All she saw was the cursor on her document blink as she tried to string together a coherent sentence.

She focused on typing a new explanation for a concept she thought she’d covered well enough to need no further explanation, a metaphorical dark cloud hanging over her head as she let the reviewer’s comments weigh on her pride. However, as she got into a groove, her word count quickly climbing, she felt something cold splash against her right side.

She sat, stunned, for a few seconds, before she pulled her headphones off and blinked at the coffee that stained the right side of her dress and dripped from her skin. Ice cubes gathered in her lap, cold seeping through the fabric of her dress as she attempted to process what happened. It took a few more seconds of staring at the mess before she picked up her laptop and held it away from the growing pool of coffee. Ice cubes clattered to the floor as she stood and she grimaced as she watched them fall. She looked over the computer, sighing in relief when nothing appeared to be wet, before she lifted her head and looked at the person responsible.

Any other time, her attention would be on how beautiful the man in front of her was. He stood a head taller than her, easily, with broad shoulders and a surprised expression that she was sure matched her own. His blonde curls had fallen into his eyes, obscuring the blue slightly, and his cheeks and upturned nose were tinted pink in embarrassment as he looked over the damage he’d done.

They stared at one another for longer than necessary, his eyes lingering on her face just as hers lingered on his, and she was glad that he at least had the decency to stare at her face instead of the wet fabric clinging to her. The man beside him, slightly shorter and more amused than embarrassed, nudged his friend who moved as if he were a video that had been taken off pause.

“I’m so sorry,” he breathed, his words rushing together as he watched her place her laptop on a neighboring table to keep it out of harm’s way before she reached for a few napkins. “Fuck, here, let me help you with that.”

His hand bumped into hers as he reached for more napkins and began wiping at the table and, as cliche as it was, she felt a jolt of something shoot down her spine as she quickly pulled her hand away. It was easy for Natalia to ignore the feeling as she watched him make matters worse. She tried to hide it, however, she couldn’t help but grimace as she moved her bag away from the table, slipping it over her head in an effort to avoid him sweeping coffee inside it.

She shook her head at his apology and reached for another handful of napkins. “It’s okay,” she sighed, not wanting to be rude even though she knew she’d have to take time she was planning on using to write to go home and change before class, “at least it was iced coffee.” She tossed the soaked napkins into the trash and bent down to pick up the ice cubes and cup from the ground. “What happened, anyway?”

“He tripped,” the shorter, dark-haired man informed her before he took a sip of his coffee. He still looked amused, positively delighted as he watched his friend struggle to find the right words to say, and Natalia bit back a laugh as she realized everyone had a friend like him.

“I didn’t trip,” the taller man defended with a roll of his eyes, cutting his eyes at his friend before returning his attention to Natalia. He met her eyes sheepishly, the embarrassment softening his features as he explained, “Someone bumped into me on their way in and I, uh…” He trailed off, clearly having planned on saying that he tripped, and dropped his gaze to the floor as Natalia laughed.

“Tripped?” she finished, a smile on her lips despite the situation. When the taller man grimaced, bringing the hand not full of soaked napkins up to rub at the back of his neck, she laughed once more.

“Fine, I tripped,” he acknowledged, “but it wasn’t just being clumsy. Someone really did bump into me.” He gave his explanation more to his friend than to her and she wondered how often he found himself tripping over thin air. He looked solid, like he wouldn’t be the type to trip over his own two feet, but looks could be deceiving and she knew from personal experience how annoying it was to be the clumsy friend.

“It’s okay,” she assured him, a little more sincere in her assurance this time as she offered him a genuine smile. “Nothing spilled on my laptop and it wasn’t boiling so, worst case scenario was avoided. I think I’ll just not sit near the door next time, though.”

“Yeah, that’s probably a good call,” he agreed. His lips were quirked in a smile, grateful that she wasn’t yelling at him, and he still held the soaked napkins in his hands. “I still feel bad, though. Can I make it up to you; buy you a coffee or something?” he asked, a hopeful lilt to her voice that told her he wasn’t just looking to make up for spilling coffee on her.

As much as it pained her to turn him down - and it hurt quite a bit as she found him to be beautiful, even in basketball shorts and a t-shirt - she didn’t have time. “That would be great,” she began, a rueful smile on her lips as she grabbed her laptop and slid it into her bag, “but I have to run. I need to go get changed before class. It’s really okay, though. No big deal.”

She didn’t miss the nudge his friend gave him and raised an eyebrow as she watched him swat at his friend’s elbow. “I, uh, how about dinner, then?” he asked, his eyes meeting hers. 

He looked so earnest, his skin still tinted pink and his eyes wide, and she felt a giddy excitement bubble in the pit of her stomach. He was gorgeous, the kind of guy she never imagined would be interested in her, and she wanted to give him a chance. She didn’t know him, didn’t know if that chance would turn into a disaster, but she found herself wanting to take that risk.

“I have class until ten tonight,” she told him, biting back a coo when his face dropped at what he assumed was her rejection, “but if you tell me your name, I think I could free up my Friday night for dinner.”

He blinked, surprised at how her sentence ended, and smiled at her. He had a unique smile, his teeth on full display and tongue pressed to the back of them, and his eyes brightened as he nodded his agreement. “Right, yeah. Luke,” he introduced, moving to offer her his hand before realizing he still held the wad of napkins. “This meeting isn’t really going that well, huh?”

“I’d say it went south when you dumped coffee on her,” the friend commented, not even bothering to hide his grin as he watched the interaction unfold before him. “All downhill from there, mate.”

“I’m Natalia,” she introduced, pointedly ignoring his friend’s comment with an amused glance in his direction. “I’ve had worse first meetings, don’t worry. My freshman year roommate opened a door on me and gave me a concussion. You just stained a dress.”

“Oddly, that makes me feel better about this, thanks,” Luke laughed as he reached out and dropped the napkins into the garbage. “Can I get your number? That way you can go change now and we can make plans later,” he clarified, smiling at her as he offered her his cellphone to put her number in.

She felt Luke’s gaze on her as she put her number into his phone and she offered him a smile as she handed the device back. “I have one request for Friday,” she told him as she grabbed her own phone from the table and grinned at the text he sent her with his name, “no tables near the entrance.” Luke laughed at her request, a sound that she found endearing, and Natalia grinned at him. “I’ll see you on Friday, then.”

“See you on Friday,” he confirmed, grinning as he watched her step around him.

Natalia and Luke maintained eye contact for a moment, each giddy and grinning as they felt the butterflies of something new on the horizon, before Natalia bumped into something solid on her way out and made a face before quickly turning to apologize. She tossed Luke a wave over her shoulder, her own cheeks burning in embarrassment, as she heard his friend mumble, “Wow, she’s perfect for you.”

As she stepped out into the world once more, she grinned at the encounter. It made her lose an hour of writing time - and ruined her favorite dress - but maybe this wasn’t such a bad thing. She’d been single for years and hadn’t had any luck with dating apps. She knew that a boyfriend wasn’t the most necessary thing in her life, however, it might be nice to be the girl with a date for once. And it certainly didn’t hurt that Luke was gorgeous.

Whatever the future held for them, she found herself looking forward to it. 

____________________________________________________

Author’s Note: If I try to start another series, someone fight me. Like, actually, genuinely fight me. I’m focusing on Rose Tattoo, These Violent Delights, and this. (And MF if I get inspiration but those updates are more sporadic, never meant to be regular, sorry. :() I want to write a few one shots but they’ll likely be shorter and just fun, you know? Not super plot heavy. I may or may not update the next chapter of this sooner than a week because this is kind of short. But, hey, I’ve got all the time in the world because after I defend next week, I’m done with grad school and that’s mildly terrifying. Anyway.  Here we go.

Tag List (like this post or message me if you want to be added!): @toolazymyguy , @irwinkitten , @jamieebabiee , @glittersluke , @spicycal , @lusbaby , @everyscarisahealingplace, @brokenvirtualheartcollector , @if-it-rains-it-pours, @blisshemmings , @calumscalm , @lovemenowseemenever , @ijustreallylovezebras , @rhiannonmichelle, @p0laroidpictures , @tomscuddles , @loverofmineluke , @harrytreatspeoplewithkindnesss , @blueviiolence , @loveroflrh , @empathycth , @luckyduckydoo , @tobefalling , @bandsandbooksaremykink , @watch-how-she-burns , @megz1985 , @wokeupinaustralia , @lucidlrh , @canterburyfiction , @cal-is-not-on-branding , @t-i-n-y-d-i-n-o , @jaacknaano , @findingliam-o , @old-zeppelin-shirt , @idk-who-i-am-anymore1 , @sammyrenae68 , @flowerthug , @calumsphile , @caitdaniels, @drummerboy794 , @writingfortoomanyfandoms , @x-lover-of-mine-x , @miliefayy , @sunaaii , @canterburyfiction , @sebrox40 , @nati-nn , @opheliaaurora23 , @bitterbethany , @sunnysidesblog​ , @333-xx​

[fifteenleads]

A YOI x Chrono Trigger AU fic from Ye Olde 2018-ish Era. Go figure.

I can’t even remember what the hell I titled this before. Welp.

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Chapter One: “That’s a Nice Band-Aid, Darling.”

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They say that a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step, and that a hero's adventure begins with a cliché-ass wake-up call - something like, "Good morning, Crono!," perhaps. How that even made it on to TV Tropes, Yuuri would never understand. But it is on TV Tropes, and he is in bed reading it.

He's glad his mother doesn't wake him up that way, at least. But then again, he's always up before five a.m. anyway. Sadly, the daily deliveries won't take care of themselves.

Yuuri glances at the time on his tablet. 4:59. Someone will come knocking in three, two, one --

"Yuuri! Get up!" Mari's voice is accompanied by three sharp raps on the door. "Go with dad to the plaza and help him set up!"

This is the part where the hero typically groans at being woken up before grudgingly getting themselves out of bed, but Yuuri Katsuki does not groan. He shouts back that he'll be down in a minute while looking for that darned sock that has gone missing now, of all times. Phichit would surely laugh hard at seeing his best friend hopping frantically on one foot while wearing a poodle-patterned sock. It'll probably go viral on Instagram, too, but that's pretty much a given already. Someone has to part the boy from his gadgets long-term after the Millenial Fair is over.

The minute is up, so Yuuri gives up and gets another sock from the drawer. It is patterned with the face of a silver-haired man surrounded by snowflakes. He has no idea how that found its way into his pile of clothing, but for now, mismatched socks are better than being late.

Yuuri makes his way downstairs and greets his mother, who is busy in the kitchen. Hiroko sends him off with an allowance of fifty kin and packed lunch for him and his father. He ignores Mari's snickering as she musses his hair while glancing at his feet.

The ride to the plaza is pretty short. It is already bustling with people even at such an early hour, all the sellers trying to outdo each other in showing off their wares. Yuuri chuckles as his father joins in the fray, calling out to everyone about the best katsudon in town. Everyone is excited for Hasetsu Kingdom's first Millenial Fair, and with it, the hopes for a thousand years more of peace and prosperity to come.

Toshiya leads the way to their assigned spot, a quaint little corner by the northern area of the square. The tent had already been set up the day before, so all that's left to do is to arrange the food and drinks before the first customers come in. Yuuri passively observes the hustle and bustle around them. Much energy is palpable in the air, and the excited hubbub only grows louder as the sun rises. Some stalls have weapons and armor, others exotic trinkets and accessories. He even spots a merchant selling animals. Phichit would probably want to pick up a new hamster on the way home later.

His eyes wander to the secluded area beyond the main square. Yuuri hoped Phichit's solo exhibit would be a success this time, too. His friend loved tinkering with machines since he was little, and it brought him and his family great fortune as he won scientific contests left and right. His magnum opus, a two-machine teleporter, had impressed the university professors and the panel of judges alike, earning him the highest thesis grade and the first prize for the National Physics Summit.

Yuuri's hand stills when his father calls his name. He had been adding portions of garnish to the newly-cut fried pork cutlets. He instinctively opens his mouth to apologize, but Toshiya immediately pats his back and pushes a one hundred-kin note into his hand. "I'll take care of the stall. You go have fun." He winks at his son mischievously, and Yuuri pushes down the growing blush creeping onto his cheeks.

"Th-Thanks, dad," he mumbles, bowing slightly before making his way to the northernmost part of the square. Phichit would probably be busy right now, but he would never refuse breakfast and morning coffee. It had been their time-honored tradition as college roommates, after all.

Yuuri stops by a mobile café and orders two tall hazelnut lattés and a baguette loaf. He is turning to leave with breakfast in hand when he bumps into the next person in line, spilling hot coffee over his white shirt. The other person, too, recoils in pain, reflexively putting a slender finger into his mouth to nurse it.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so, so sorry!" Yuuri exclaims, setting aside the food and drink and beginning to fuss over the man. He searches his bag for the small bottle of salve he always brings with him, and proceeds to apply a small amount over the man's injured finger, covering it with a band-aid afterwards.

The other man chuckles as he lets Yuuri take care of him. "It's quite all right," he assures airily, waving the bandaged hand with a smile. "I was also too close to you in line, as well." His blue eyes crinkle beautifully as he smiles, and Yuuri fights yet another blush from coloring his face. "I love this band-aid, though!" the man comments. "Where did you get it?"

"F-From the kids' section of the pharmacy," Yuuri admits, embarrassed. He just had to use that one by mistake instead of the flesh-tones ones, did he? Why now, of all times? "The poodle-patterned ones were part of a limited edition series."

"Nice!" the man exclaims in delight, scrutinizing the design closely. "Thank you so much for giving me this one. I love it!" He winks at Yuuri and places a light kiss over his own bandaged finger.

Yuuri wishes the ground would swallow him whole right this instant.

"U-Um, I think I'll get going now," he excuses himself, retrieving the coffee and bread from the counter. "My friend is waiting uphill. I'm so sorry again." Yuuri quickly nods his head and goes on his way, but the other man takes a long stride and ends up beside him, taking the baguette loaf out of his arms.

"It's okay, I'll help you," he offers happily as they ascend the stone steps. "I'm alone today, anyway." The man cradles the food with his left arm and extends his right hand out to Yuuri. "I'm Binktop, by the way. What's your name?"

For an instant, Yuuri is tempted to laugh out loud. The funny name hardly matches the man's regal appearance at all. He must be a foreigner, like the many others who have come to Hasetsu Kingom to join in the festivities. As a citizen of Hasetsu, therefore, he is to show this man the utmost respect and hospitality he deserves, funny names or not.

He shakes Binktop's hand, the cool skin sending small shivers down his spine. "I'm Yuuri. It's nice to meet you, Binktop."

"A pleasure." Binktop returns the handshake with a smile, and they continue going up the stairs. "So, Yuuri, are you also alone here today?"

"Our family actually has a food stall down at the main square, but my dad told me to enjoy myself today," Yuuri explains. "I'm on my way to see my friend, actually. He's an inventor."

Binktop's eyes widen and sparkle in delight, and he accidentally climbs two steps at once. "Wow! He must be really smart!"

"He is," Yuuri nods fondly in agreement. "Phichit has a solo exhibit today. This project won him first place at the National Physics Summit last month."

"That's amazing!" Binktop gushes in admiration, his silver bangs parting to reveal twinkling blue eyes. "I can't wait to meet him!" Yuuri smiles back proudly in response.

They reach the top of the stairs in a minute. The miniature square is cluttered with various machine parts and wires of different lengths and calibers. The two main pods have already been set in their positions, though not yet fully-assembled as Yuuri remembers them. It's definitely like Phichit to cram at the last minute.

The soft whirring noise dies down as the two approach the left pod, and a brown-skinned young man in a bandanna and overalls comes out to greet them. "Yuuri! You're here!"

Yuuri shrugs good-naturedly and hands Phichit the cup of coffee. "I'd love to hug you, but you're covered in oil and soot right now." He smiles widely at his best friend. "Good luck with your exhibit today!"

"Oh my gosh, thank you so much! You don't know how much I need it!" Phichit downs the coffee in an instant, breathing rapidly through his mouth afterwards to cool his tongue. "I heard the prince is coming with the royal delegation to watch my demonstration! I am so nervous!"

This time, Yuuri pats Phichit's shoulder encouragingly, not minding his hand blackening with soot afterwards. "You'll do well, Phichit! You've done this before; you can do it again."

"Good luck, Phichit!" Binktop adds, sending a friendly wink and a thumbs-up of his own. Phichit is surprised at the additional voice, and notices the other man for the first time. His nervous expression immediately changes to one of teasing, instantly directed at his friend. "Yuuri!" he whispers loudly. "Who's the hot guy?!"

"H-He's not - I mean -" Yuuri splutters, coughing into his hand to stop himself. He doesn't even bother hiding his obviously-reddened cheeks anymore; nothing ever escapes Phichit's notice, anyway. Tonight's phone call is going to be a long one.

When Yuuri has composed himself, he turns to Binktop. "Phichit, this is Binktop. I ran into him in the square today. Binktop, this is my friend, Phichit."

"Hi there!" Phichit merrily extends a hand to Binktop. "Phichit Chulanont, at your service!"

"Binktop," he introduces himself, shaking Phichit's hand. "Yuuri here has told me a lot about you."

"Hahaha, good things, I hope!" Phichit laughs, before shooting Yuuri an expectant glare. Yuuri grins back before taking another sip of coffee.

Phichit shows them around the workplace, pointing out the different parts of the invention and which part goes where. His black eyes shine brightly as he rambles in tech jargon while explaining the principle behind the teleporter. Binktop nods excitedly while asking questions, while Yuuri merely watches them interact. Despite his "nerdy glasses," as Phichit had christened them, he is not really into scientific stuff, having taken up a sports major in university.

"Sure thing! I was about to give this thing a test run, anyway." Phichit beckons Yuuri to come over. "Yuuri! Could you kindly step on the left pod? Binktop wants a demonstration."

Yuuri opens his mouth to protest, but knows better than to interrupt his friend when he is in scientist-mode. He may have also wanted to impress Binktop with his bravery, but he doesn't know it yet. Huffing, he finishes the rest of his coffee in one gulp and does as he is told.

Phichit flips the switch, and Yuuri almost loses his footing as he feels himself being sucked away into a vacuum space. Black, wavy lines fill his vision for a moment before everything around him returns to normal. He steps off the right pod and flashes the peace sign at Phichit and Binktop from across the square.

Binktop immediately makes a beeline for Yuuri and embraces him tightly, while Phichit pumps his fist in joy. "Wow, amazing!" he exclaims as he cups Yuuri's face. "You actually teleported!"

"That's how it's supposed to work," Yuuri answers matter-of-factly, but even he has an undeniably huge smile on his face. Phichit's exhibit is surely going to be a massive hit amongst the fair-goers.

"Can I give it a try, too?" Binktop asks Phichit excitedly, still not letting go of Yuuri. "It looks like so much fun!"

"Of course, Binktop!" Phichit laughs, gesturing at the left pod. "Anything for Yuuri's friend!"

Binktop lets out a whoop and disentangles himself from Yuuri. He lightly steps onto the left pod and runs a hand throuh his silver hair. "Watch me, Yuuri!" He sends a playful wink in Yuuri's direction before nodding at Phichit.

"All right, let's do this!" Phichit flips the switch again. Nothing happens at first, so he turns the machine off and on while observing the monitors. Worry begins to creep into his expression as he starts fiddling with the controls, but still, nothing happens.

A gasp from the left pod directs their attention to Binktop, whose pendant is glowing brightly from inside his shirt. It seems to be resonating with the core machine of the teleporter, from which ominous sparks begin to fly out. Phichit shouts at Binktop to get off the pod immediately, but Binktop hears it too late.

A large wormhole, unlike the one Yuuri had seen briefly while he teleported, opens up in the space behind Binktop and appears to be sucking him in. Trying his best to hold his ground, Binktop cries out for help as he extends his hand. In a panic, Yuuri runs up to the left pod and tries to grab him, but his whole body disappears in a flash of light, and the wormhole closes in an instant. Yuuri is left alone on the pod, Binktop's golden pendant in his hand.

Phichit is the first to regain his voice after a few minutes. "What the hell... This wasn't supposed to happen..." Yuuri turns to his friend, who is kneeling by the controllers in shock. Long tracks of tears have washed away the layers of soot on his face.

He runs down to embrace Phichit, who is now trembling in his friend's arms. "Yuuri, I'm so sorry! I really didn't mean for this to happen!"

Yuuri runs his hands over his friend's back, ignoring his own swimming vision and the violent hammering of his own heart in his chest. Now is not the time to deal with an impending anxiety attack - not when Phichit needs his help.

"Phichit. Look at me," he instructs calmly. "Breathe with me."

Together, they go through the motions, inhaling and exhaling deeply in unison. Most of the time, it was Phichit who did this for Yuuri when they were still in college together. It always helped calm Yuuri down after an attack, and Yuuri is more than glad to return the favor now. They cannot afford to be too calm, however - they still have to find out where the hell Binktop went.

Some day this is turning out to be. Yuuri swears never to get up before five a.m. ever again.

Phichit looks up at him and nods determinedly. Yuuri lets go of his friend as he begins to go over his notes. "Either the telepod malfunctioned, or something else did it," he thinks aloud to the clearing at large. "I'm suspecting your friend's pendant had an unusual reaction with the core interface, causing a ripple in the space-time fabric or something."

Yuuri gapes at Phichit incredulously. "You mean, like, time travel?!"

"I don't know yet." Phichit bites his lower lip in deep thought. "That wormhole could have led anywhere. It's too dangerous to try anything at this point."

"We have to bring Binktop back, Phichit! There's no time!"

"I know that!" Phichit snaps, rubbing a blackened hand on his temple at the sudden outburst. "It's not as easy as it seems. We have to find out how to open that wormhole, for starters. There must be something about that pendant."

Yuuri lifts the pendant in his hand against the daylight. It is a small, round, golden medallion with intricate rose patterns bordering its circumference, hanging from a simple chain. The pendant also seems to be pretty old but well-maintained. He briefly wonders where Binktop must have gotten such a valuable trinket and how much it must have cost, but pushes these thoughts out of his mind.

A tiny spark jumps out of the medallion, causing Yuuri to drop the pendant onto the left pod in surprise. Immediately, it causes another reaction, violent gusts of wind forming around them as the wormhole opens once more.

"Well," Phichit laughs brokenly, "that was easy enough!" With a hand shielding his face, he struggles to walk against the wind's direction and tries to pick up the pendant off the ground.

Yuuri has other ideas, however. He uses his stronger body to his advantage and overtakes Phichit in a second, picking up the pendant and wearing it around his neck.

"Yuuri! What are you doing?!" Phichit shouts in alarm. "Get off the pod now!"

To be honest, he has no idea what he is doing, either. His body is already protesting his sudden decision, his heart rate going up, his breathing more rapid, and his hands slippery with sweat. But above all, Yuuri feels that it's the right decision. It's more reckless than heroic, by all means, but nevertheless the right one, just the same.

"I'll bring Binktop back!" he shouts at his friend. "I'll get us back home, I promise!"

Again with the stupid promises, but Phichit seems to finally support his decision. He nods determinedly and hands Yuuri a long, steel wrench. "It's my favorite one! Bring it back safely, okay?"

"Thanks, Phichit! I will." Yuuri waves the wrench nervously as he steps into the closing wormhole.

"Be careful, Yuuri!" Phichit shouts after him. "I'll try to follow you as soon as I figure things out!"

A chuckle escapes Yuuri's lips. It's just like his friend to jump at the call. If anyone is more suited to be the hero of this story, it would definitely be Phichit, and Yuuri, as the dutiful friend, would support him all the way. Funny how things have turned out the other way around this time.

For now, he, Yuuri Katsuki, will be the hero of this story, and he swears on his life to bring Binktop back.

Yuuri raises a thumbs-up to the fading image of his friend, not caring if he doesn't see it. He lets the distortion fill his senses completely until the black nothingness consumes him and claims his consciousness.

[ayma-nidiot]

“Don’t Speak Their Names” - Shrimpshipping fic Chapter 30

This chapter can be found here on AO3.

Author’s note: Yay! I finally uploaded a new chapter! Sorry for the wait, guys. Now get ready for lots of Symbioshipping. Hehehe.

Chapter 30 - Third-Place Man

~17 December 2005~ 

“N-No! Have mercy!” A Protector with Eyes of Blue kicked frantically while Weevil held him by the neck with his right arms. It was just his luck to get cornered in the empty baseball field in the furthest end of the university - and right before his teammates were set to arrive, no less. 

“Apparently, you don’t know who we are, so let me tell you.” Weevil held his sharpened left arms to his victim’s chest. “We are the almighty Earthbound Gods, and we don’t know trivial concepts like ‘mercy’ - especially not for little gnats like you. If you’re not going to join the Earthbound Army, then you’ll join your comrades in hell!”

“Do you really think that killing me is going to solve anything?” Protector with Eyes of Blue felt his breath running out. “Even if you kill me, the God-Shattering Star and Rex will join forces… they will kill all the other Earthbound Gods... and they will destroy you and the Crimson Devil.”

“How DARE you speak his name! Begone!” Weevil impaled his victim, allowing him to fall to the ground in flames. But no sooner had he done so when he could feel the darkness - even just a sliver of it - leaving his heart. “R-Rex… I’m… I’m going to… ngh…”

“Uru!” Anita growled as she tried to shake Weevil back into his trance. “Pull yourself together, man!”

“Aslla… Piscu… It hurts…” Weevil grunted, feeling a headache coming on, as his eyes flashed between demonic red and his normal blue.

Dammit… So, part of Uru is still in love with Rex. I can’t allow him to fall in love with him again. And Watda will have my head if he finds out I let this happen to him. Even the tiniest fault could hamper our plans for world domination. Anita gave up trying to ‘save’ Weevil on her own, but knew of someone who could. “You can’t go to the doctor, nor can you go to most of your classes… at least, not in person. These days, you’ll never know who’s on the side of the Gaming Club.”

“Yes, I’m fully aware of that. Ever since Watda took me under his wing, I’ve done all my assignments and classes virtually. And so have the rest of us! Any other wisdom nuggets you’d like to share?”

“No, but there’s a teacher I know that’s full of… er, what you might call ‘wisdom nuggets.’ He’s one of the few people on this campus that doesn’t know our true identities. He’s actually our biology professor, and his office isn’t far from here. That fool…” Anita snarled at the spot where Protector with Eyes of Blue had burst into flames, “His teammates aren’t set to arrive for another 20 minutes. We should leave before we’re spotted.”

“Do you mean Dr. Heywood Jablomie?” Anita’s suggestion calmed Weevil down a little bit, and he proceeded to walk with her to this office. “I get the feeling that I’m his favourite student. He’s always inviting me to biology symposiums or calling me whenever he finds a rare insect.”

Anita opened the door to the fairly deserted hallway; the few people that were there were part of the Earthbound Army. “So you’ve noticed. I would say that if you wanted to be a biology professor or entomologist, that he’d be the professor you’d want supporting you through your thesis defense. But there’s going to be little point in doing that once we’ve completed our goal.”

“Our goal, huh…” Weevil stared absentmindedly at the door he found himself in front of.

“Excuse me? Dr. Jablomie, are you here today?” Anita knocked on the door.

“Hmm?” Rattling of office supplies could be heard on the other side before a scruffy man answered, inviting the pair further into the room. “Oh! Well, if it isn’t my two favourite students! What can I do for you today?”

It didn’t take long for the scheming Weevil to think of an appropriate answer. “I’d just like to review my grades and career outlook with you. I know it’s a bit soon, but I’d like to start on my senior thesis soon.”

“Ever the ambitious student, eh? I think we all know that you’d have no problem in our teaching program, but let’s take a look at your grades anyway.” Dr. Jablomie pulled up some information on his computer. “Yup, just as I suspected - all A’s for this semester. We normally don’t allow freshmen into this program, but I can make an exception for you.”

“Is that so?”

“Definitely. I’ll send you a few emails in regards to the program; feel free to read it at your leisure. ...And if you keep up these grades, you’ll have no problem being valedictorian.”

“I… I can?” That last word from Dr. Jablomie flooded Weevil’s mind with memories of his father, memories he kept squirreled away for several months. Then… I can finally reclaim what that stupid girl Amber took away from me.

Anita noticed that Weevil was now under Watda’s complete control again. She and Weevil arose from their seats. “Anyway, that’s all we needed, Professor. We’ll take our leave now.”

“We will?” Weevil seemed slightly confused.

“Yes, because President Watda is going to need our attention.” So Anita said, but in the back of her mind, she wasn’t wholly convinced that Weevil was really back on her side. Sorry, Uru, but our president is going to need to do something a little… drastic to make sure you stay with your own kind.

Meanwhile, Rex had only woken up in his hospital room about an hour ago. For the past two weeks, Dr. Balls had convinced him to stay there, knowing that he could go into labour any day now. He didn’t appreciate being woken up this soon before his last final exam, especially for something as uninteresting as an ‘emergency meeting.’ If it wasn’t for Amber shaking him awake and threatening to hide his Tyrant Dragon ‘for safekeeping,’ he would have been perfectly fine with sleeping the whole day without a care in the world. 

“Ugh, making a pregnant person wake up for this… ” Rex groaned and yawned, wondering when the hell Phuckdis and William were going to start the meeting. “It had better be good. Nah, I know it won’t.”

“Come on, Papa, they said it was important.” Amber noticed that despite the Club Army’s recent losses, the size of the army hardly seemed to have shrunk. “See? President Phuckdis is about to start talking. And you better not fall asleep.”

“Nag, nag…” Rex rolled his eyes.

“My fellow Club members!” Phuckdis’ words silenced the growing crowd. “And for our newest members, we welcome and thank you for your presence. As you know, today is the last day of final exams. After today, all of the teachers and most powerful shifters in this university will go home. The Earthbound Army will have no qualms, then, about attacking the university when it’s at its most vulnerable.Those who live in on-campus housing - mostly Club members - will be especially at risk.”

“But we’ve only killed one Earthbound God, and turned another,” piped up Blackwing - Blizzard the Far North. “How do you expect us to kill six Earthbound Gods in the course of a day?”

“...” William looked to the ground in sorrow. “Sadly, we can’t. However, we have recently learned that two of the Earthbound Gods - Ccapac Apu and Chacu Challhua - live on on-campus housing. The two Club members tasked with spying on them have recently learned they take naps at the same time every day, in about four hours. At that time, the two Club members will infiltrate the dorm and kill them in their sleep while they’re not shifted.”

“That’s… sounds risky…” Amber didn’t wholeheartedly agree with this plan. “And if they happen to shift during this infiltration, we risk not only our spies’ lives, but also those of innocent students.”

“Well, I for one like it!” Rex got up and pumped a fist in the air. Everyone in that room could hear his ‘battle cry,’ even though he was in the back of the room. “I wish that I could be the one to give those punks a piece of their minds!”

“Not even an advanced pregnancy can stop your strong will, huh?” Phuckdis chuckled. “In that case, the emergency meeting is adjourned.”

“Now, then… I’m finished with all my finals, but you still have yours for Grandpa’s class.” Amber helped Rex on their way to class. “You did study, right?”

“Um…” Rex sheepishly looked into the lecture hall for ancient history. “Say, do you think Dad will give me a free pass because I’m pregnant?”

“So the answer is no.” Amber sighed and facepalmed, guiding Rex into a backrow seat. “Sometimes, you’re really hopeless, Papa.”

“Just sometimes? ” Rex smiled a goofy, toothy grin.

“Remind me again who’s the mother and who’s the child?” Amber sounded irritated for a spell before sparing a smile for Rex. “Anyway, Papa, good luck. I love you lots.”

“I love you too! Mwah!” Rex kissed Amber’s cheek before she left, taking all of his motivation for school with her. This whole finals schedule reminded him all too well of his high school finals, making him fear his test results even more. “And to think, I have to endure this for three more years…I could do without having to sit through a three-hour test. Or really any test, for that matter.”

“You really don’t like tests, do you?” Espa spoke from the adjacent seat.

“And who would? I’ve always stunk at them.” Rex held even tighter onto his baby bump; he had felt baby Amber squirming all morning. “On top of a war and the fact that my due date is in less than two weeks, I would rather be pretty much anywhere other than here. I’ve got enough to worry about as it is.”

“Your due date is that soon, huh…” 

Espa curled up a little, but Rex could still notice that the psychic duelist was quite chubbier than he remembered. “Espa… Remind me again how far along you are?”

“...” Espa let his arms fall to his sides, revealing his basketball-sized baby bump. “I’m 20 weeks along.”

“But your bump is really big for 20 weeks, isn’t it?”

“Did you forget already that I’m carrying twins, genius?”

“Espa…” Rex held Espa’s trembling hand. “Have you ever seen the on-campus doctor, Dr. Mayichi Balls?”

“Pfft…” Espa’s nervousness eased a little upon hearing that name. “No, I haven’t.”

“He’s this really awesome doctor that taught me everything I needed to know about my pregnancy, and I think he can help you too. After this final, why don’t I take you there?”

“You’d be willing to do that for me? Even after all that I’ve done to you at Battle City?”

“Come on, we can still be rivals and friends. That’s what Joey and I are.”

“Joey, too?”

“Er, well, he says I’m his friend, but I still don’t think that word sounds right when it applies to us.”

“I…” Espa started crying. “I… I… Thank you, Rex. I take back what I said about you being ‘the worst duelist in Domino City.’”

“I’ll forgive you if you can do two things. One, duel me fair and square. Two, cut the crying because the professor is already here.”

“S-Sorry…” Try as he might, Espa couldn’t control his crying very well. “I’ve been having these awful mood swings for the past couple of months, and… well, you should know how that works. Once I start crying, it’s almost impossible for me to stop.”

“Oh, do I know about the mood swings. But you’ve graduated in the top five at Domino High School, so you’re gonna be fine on this test.”

“Th-Thanks…” Espa’s voice still shook as he and Rex received their testing papers.

At least you shouldn’t have a problem with your finals… Weeves probably has it easy too. Rex was certain he bombed his algebra final, but understood the material for this test just fine. Even when he was down to the last ten questions, he didn’t encounter a single question he didn’t specifically remember from class. 

To Espa’s - and everyone else’s - surprise, Rex was the first one done with the test. “Whoa, the airhead Rex Raptor already finished?” one of Rex’s old classmates from high school wondered out loud. 

“Naw, he probably just rushed through it so he could be done,” quipped another former classmate. “He probably didn’t get a single question right.”

“No talking during the exam, unless you want both of your tests to be invalidated,” Spinos spoke all the way from his podium; he only looked up when Rex presented his finished test. “Good job. But just because you’re my son doesn’t mean that I won’t grade you like all of my other students.”

“Hehe, I know.” Rex flipped his hair. “I don’t need special treatment from daddy dear; I’m that awesome!”

“Still full of yourself as always,” Espa spoke from behind as he handed in his test too. “Let’s see if you’re still ‘that awesome’ after report cards come out, eh?”

“Oh, shut it. That is, if you want me to escort you to the-” 

Abrupt contractions hit Rex; though they weren’t as strong as last time, they were enough to raise Spinos’ concern. “Oh, shit…” he turned to one of his trustworthy student assistants. “You and the others are going to continue proctoring this test. My son might be going into early labour.”

“Yes, sir. I understand.”

“N-No…” Rex refused Spinos’ offer to help him walk. “I can get there myself. You stay here and do your job as a teacher.”

“I got this, Dr. Saurus.” Espa tried to wrap an arm around Rex, only to have the dino duelist swat him away. 

“Headstrong and stubborn as usual…” Spinos sat back at the podium. “Very well, if you insist.”

Espa, however, wasn’t wholly comfortable letting someone who could barely breathe or walk take him to the doctor’s. “I bet that if you were bleeding all over the floor, you’d probably be all like, ‘I can do it myself.’ I hope I can be a strong, determined mother like you.”

“And I hope you don’t.” Dr. Balls happened to be walking down the same corridor. “Rex isn’t exactly a role model you should follow.”

“Oh come on, I’m doing the best I can, Doc. Anyway, we didn’t come here just to chat it up. This is my buddy Espa Roba, and he really needs your expertise, if you know what I mean.”

“H-Hey.” Espa nervously waved.

Dr. Balls instinctively could tell that Espa wasn’t a shifter, but had the presence of mind not to ask about his gender identity. “How do you do? I’m Dr. Mayichi Balls.”

“Pfft… Hahaha!” Espa soon found himself in a nearly unstoppable bout of laughter. “Man, no matter how many times I hear that name, it never gets old!”

“Hehe… I’m used to it by this point. If you’re here for an ultrasound, then you’ve come to the right place. Right this way.”

“Actually, Dr. Balls, he’s not your only patient today,” Rex spoke as the three walked to Dr. Balls’ office. “I… I think Amber’s going to come out any day now.”

Dr. Balls offered the two men separate hospital beds. He prepared the ultrasound for Espa while his nurses tended to Rex. “And you would be correct in that assumption. In fact, don’t be surprised if you go into true labour next week.”

“But I want to give birth on my due date,” Rex whined. “Because, you know, it’s my birthday.”

“Then you need to listen to your doctor and take it easy, unless you want your Braxton Hicks contractions to become the real deal beforehand.” Dr. Balls turned to Espa with a kinder tone. “Your babies look healthy to me… Do you want to know their sex?”

“Yes, please, if you don’t mind.”

“You’re going to have a boy and a girl.”

“Darn, I didn’t think of any boy’s names… Although I know for sure I want my daughter to be named Artemis, Greek goddess of the hunt and childbirth. Still...” Espa cradled his baby bump. “I’m going to love my boy all the same, just like my brothers.”

“How fitting.” Rex smiled. “I hope I can get some of that good juju from you.”

“Haha… I just need to discuss with Mako on what we should name our son. But…” 

“But what?”

“I… still haven’t told him how I feel.”

“Oh my gods, Espa, are you serious right now? And how many months has it been? Why the hell haven’t you?”

“Well, I can’t be bold and brash like you. It was just a one-night stand for both of us…” Espa began what he knew would be a long fit of crying as Dr. Balls finished the checkups. “I don’t think he really loves me.”

“Er, well…” Rex hesitated for a bit; as the product of a one-night stand himself, Espa’s words caught him off guard, and he had no idea what to say.

And he wouldn’t have to, because yet again he heard loud stomping rapidly charging up the stairs. 

“Why do I have to deal with people running in the hospital all the time?” Dr. Balls sighed angrily. “Cut it out, you- Hey, where do you think you’re going?”

“Hey, is Espa Roba here?” shouted a voice from the far end of the corridor.

“Who wants to know?” Dr. Balls peered out from his office to look at this intruder.

“The fish duelist, third-place in regionals Mako Tsunami wants to know!”

“What’s going on?” Espa didn’t quite hear the commotion - and as soon as took a look outside, he wished he had. “Shit!”

“Espa! I knew I would find you here!”

As soon as Mako made his way for Dr. Balls office, Espa pushed Dr. Balls aside and shut the door. “I’m not at home!”

“What are you doing?” Rex got up, intending to open the door even though Espa blocked him from it. “This is the perfect time to tell him!”

“Tell me what?” Mako could still hear everything going on. “Please, Espa, there’s something I want to tell you!”

“You’re a gods-damned idiot for passing up a chance like this!”

“I’m not even anywhere near ready yet, Rex!” Espa spoke barely quietly enough for Mako to not hear.

Finally, Mako had enough of being ignored. “Espa, there are monsters outside!”

“What?” Dr. Balls got out his Gravity Axe - Grarl. “But they’ve never attacked the university!”

Rex gently pushed Espa out of the way and let Mako in the room. “Well, lead the way, third-place man.”

“Oh, I can assure you that my deck now isn’t third-place.” Mako revealed his activated Duel Disk as Espa hesitated to leave. “You can stay here - for your sake and the kids’ sake.”

“...” Espa retrieved his Duel Disk from his large handbag. “If Rex Raptor, who is farther along than me, is going, then I am too.”

“Are you sure you want to do this, Rex?” Dr. Balls asked as they ran outside. 

“Most people don’t deliver on their due dates anyway, right?” Rex elected to use his Duel Disk instead of his shapeshifting powers for this fight - much to the relief of Amber, who had already started fighting. 

“Papa!” Amber had just vanquished a powerful enemy. 

“Less talk, more showing off how strong you are!” Rex wasted no time in summoning his Red-Eyes Slash Dragon and Serpent Night Dragon. 

“Finally, something we can agree on.” Dr. Balls quickly changed into Guardian Grarl.

“I… uh, don’t know what’s going on, but I can help too!” Mako played his field spell A Legendary Ocean and summoned The Legendary Fisherman alongside White Aura Monoceros.

“Hmm?” Amber had never met Mako before. “Well, if it isn’t third-place man. Papa and Daddy have told me all about you. You’re a cool guy, I suppose.”

“Will you guys stop calling me that? I’m not a third-place man anymore! White Aura Monoceros, show them what I mean!”

“So… Uh, no Earthbound Gods yet, Amber?” Rex asked.

“Nope, nada. At least not here.” Heka answered for his girlfriend. “And if you’re wondering where Kaiba and Atem are, they’re fighting off two of them by themselves - Ccapac Apu and Chacu Challhua. With my adorable girlfriend’s armies, if I might add.”

“Haha! This will be a piece of cake, then!” Rex summoned Black Tyranno. “You know, maybe you’re a cool guy after all. My daughter’s one lucky girl.”

“Right?” Amber giggled as she shot an Archfiend Empress dead. 

“Um…” Espa pointed to a blue giant coming their way. “I think our luck’s about to run out!”

“It… can’t be! That’s the Earthbound God Ccapac Apu!” Amber rose higher in the air. “Everyone, this foe is beyond any of you. Run!” 

“You should know better than anyone that one does not simply walk away from a fight. Especially if his name is Rex Raptor! Slash Dragon, attack that ugly-ass beast!”

“Ha, ha, ha…” Nortius cackled as he fell the Red-Eyes Slash Dragon easily. “Do you really think that you can defeat me so easily, you damned rabbit?”

“I bet I can!” Amber twirled around Nortius, shooting an arrow that nicked the Earthbound God in the face.

“Huh, so this is the legendary daughter of Uru, eh?” Nortius began to fight Amber - at least for a short while. “Unlike your mother, you’re a worthy opponent, I’m sure.”

“I’ll make you eat your words, cur! Yaaah!”

“I-I can help too!” Espa stepped forward. 

“On second thought…” Nortius shoved Amber to the ground, then diverted his attention to Espa. “I changed my mind. I think I’ll attack the weakest of you first.”

“H-How dare you?! Go! Jinzo, The Fiend Megacyber, and Reflect Bounder!”

“Hehehe…” Nortius attacked back, leaving only Jinzo standing on the field. “You’ve defeated the damned rabbit in a duel, right? If I can defeat you, then it really goes to show how weak he is.”

“You… bastard…” Amber couldn’t fly, as Nortius’ attack left her wings badly damaged. “Argh!”

“Espa…” Mako stood there, speechless, while his monsters all perished trying to defeat Nortius’ lackeys. 

“Mako…” Espa knew that even Jinzo couldn’t stand up to an Earthbound God. “Heh. It’s funny. Even though I’m about to die, I still… can’t say it…”

“No…” Mako felt a burst of energy coming from his heart. “I… No, you fiend! I won’t let you!”

“Any last words, you weak, fake psychic? Oh, that’s right, you’re too chicken to have any!”

Espa didn’t bother to resist, as Nortius already destroyed Jinzo. “I… I just wish… that I could have… Huh?”

“I’m not going to let them hurt you…” Mako, along with his new spear and the orca he rode on, glowed white. 

“Well, I’ll be.” Rex snickered. “Mako’s a shapeshifter just like Weeves and I.”

“Say, Espa… Can I borrow Jinzo for a second?”

“Yeah, go ahead!” Espa fumbled through his Graveyard to find his ace monster.

“Idiot, if a monster like Jinzo couldn’t defeat me once, what makes you think it can defeat me now?” Nortius taunted.

“Yugi and Joey have taught me about a little something called ‘friendship,’” Mako replied as he retrieved a Polymerization out of his deck and played it. “I’d ask you to learn about it, but I’m about to give you a first-hand lesson.”

“You fool! You can’t stand up to the third-strongest of the Earthbound Gods!” Even when Nortius reached out for Mako, ready to crush him, a barrier of light repelled his arm.

“Ha!” The light scattered, revealing Mako to be an iron-clad warrior riding an even larger orca. “I’m pretty sure I can! Take… this!”

“What?!” Before Nortius could react, Mako had impaled him in the chest. “How… How could a… weak shifter like you… defeat an Earthbound God…”

“Dude, that was kick-ass!” Now that the enemies were gone, Rex deactivated his Duel Disk and ran up to Mako.

“Because I’m a proud warrior of the seas!” Mako shifted back into a human, but as soon as he did, he began to stumble backwards.

“Hey, I got you!” Espa caught Mako, but the two still fell to the ground.

“I’m…” Mako breathed shallowly as he looked at the sky. “Dad… I hope I’ve made you proud.”

“I’m sure you did, Mako…” Espa held Mako’s head and stroked his face. “I’m sure you did… But… I was so scared that you were going to join him… Why, oh why did you risk your life for a ‘fake psychic’ like me?”

“I know we haven’t known each other for more than a couple of years, but… Ever since our duel a year ago, I… Your dedication to your brothers… It reminds me of my relationship with my father. We really are more alike than you think.” Mako held Espa even tighter, stroking the psychic duelist’s baby bump. “I… I just wanted to protect the mother of my babies… and the man I love.”

Espa gasped as he stared at Mako wide-eyed. “What did you just say?”

“Didn’t you hear me the first time?” Mako chuckled. “I love you, you adorable freaking psychic!”

“Oh my gods…” Espa cried.

“Do… Do you not love me, too?” Mako frowned.

“Y-Yes, I do!” Espa frantically started kissing Mako all over his face. “I do, Mako! I absolutely love you!”

“Daaaaaaaaaw!” Amber would have jumped excitedly if she wasn’t injured. 

“About damned time!” Rex rubbed the space under his nose.

“You said it, Rex.” Joey gave Mako and Espa a thumbs up. “Congrats, guys. Two great duelists deserve nothing but the best.”

“I’m honoured that you acknowledge my skill!” Mako exclaimed.

“There’s just one problem, love…” Espa held Mako’s hand over his baby bump. “I just learned that we’re going to have a daughter and a son. But I have no idea what our son’s name should be.”

“Hmm… I like the name ‘Caesar.’ I’m not quite sure why, but… it sounds regal.”

“Ooh, I like it! It complements ‘Artemis’ well.”

“Artemis?”

“That’s gonna be our daughter’s name.”

“Oh, you.” Mako cuddled with Espa harder, giving him multiple cheek kisses.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” Kaiba cut in, with Atem behind him.

“Papa! Good gods, you’re injured!” Heka started to heal Kaiba, until the former KaibaCorp CEO stopped him.

“I’m going to be fine, son.”

“And… And Chacu Challhua?” Amber asked.

“That overgrown whale was no match for the Seto Kaiba.” Kaiba smirked. “I see you’ve killed the other Earthbound God… Well done, you dweebs.”

“You… You really are the God-Shattering Star, if an Earthbound God was but a weakling to you.” Amber remarked. 

“Nice to see you again, Mako.” Atem recognized his friend and rival, even if Mako didn’t recognize him - except by his Millennium Puzzle.

“Yugi?” Mako looked confused, especially when he saw Yugi stand right next to Atem. “No, save it for now. After this war, we’ll have plenty of time to catch up… maybe through duels, haha.”

“So that just leaves only four Earthbound Gods remaining…” Amber spoke as she, along with her injured soldiers, made way for the campus hospital. “Papa, it’s only a matter of time before we have to do battle with them. Don’t be surprised if we end up having to fight Daddy.”

“I pray that that’s not going to happen…” Rex trembled. “That Watda is going to pay for making a fool out of Rex Raptor and Weevil Underwood.”

[toomuchawesomenessforyou]

Thank you @ifindus for tagging me 🌼 and sorry about the 9. question: I couldn’t describe the situation wtih any less words 😅. Still, I had fun with all of this!

🌸🌸🌸

1) What’s your favourite place in the world?

Stony shores and raised bogs: just a good broad red-coloured raised bog full of cranberries and hare's-tail cottongrass and if you bother to look a little closer then you’ll notice the tiny pink sundews glistening in the sun. And the smell of both the raised bog and the sea is just the best. So soothing.

2) What’s your favourite book?

“Pokuraamat” (“The Poku Book”) by Edgar Valter probably XD Idk but it was my fave as I was a child and the aesthetic is still deeply engraved into my heart <3 I actually adore “Memoirs of Ivan Orav or the Past as Azure Mountains” by Andrus Kivirähk as well. I love history so a good parody about our tragic past is just my jam. I mean what else there is to do to just laugh about it all and move one. No one cares about the little nations anyways. 

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

3) What’s a guilty pleasure you have?

I wouldn’t deem it that guilty of a pleasure since I’ll always stay a child in my heart (I promised Pippi!) but anything “childish”, if you may, I still enjoy even though I’m a grown up now. Like playing on a playground or tag with friends. The only tragic thing is that I don’t have anyone to “play” with since everyone is too busy being “grown up” and thinking about their image in front of strangers. Well, at least I know how to still enjoy life. 😛

4) What’s your favourite snacks?

Blueberries, blackcurrants and gooseberries. Sadly it’s the type of snack you won’t get fresh the whole year.

5) Do you have any musicals you like?

To be honest I haven’t seen that many but the most recent ones I adored were Hamilton and Les Misérables. The last one I got to see in real life and damn the actor for Javert and his costume were hot! (Guess his songs helped to create this chilly atmosphere full of authority)

6) Do you have any games you like?

Since it’s me we’re only talking about board games. I love Dixit a lot. There’s like four extensions to it on my shelf. 

7) What are you most looking forward to do after this pandemic is over?

Since my time during the quarantine was dedicated to Zoom seminars and writing my thesis I’m planning on resting when I’m finally finished with the latter. I’d like to go hiking and dedicate more time to drawing and writing fanfiction since I’ve come up with so many new ideas for stories over this time under quarantine.

8) What’s your favourite disney movie?

🐉🗡️ MULAN !!!!!! 100% NO questions asked! It always was and always will be my favourite. Still, an honorary mention will be given to Atlantis as well.

9) What are you most proud of in your life?

In the 7. grade I went to the German Department in my school which basically meant that all the main subjects were in German with German teachers from Germany. So the 7. grade me was quite shooketh with the sudden intense German 24/7 and when my Math teacher asked me a question and I didn’t know the answer to it I went red in my face. The teacher noticed it and with a loud voice told the whole class “Haha, your face is as red as a lobster!!” ...okay, teacher. It happened once more only this time it was “Haha, your face is as red as your deskmate’s sweater!!” Since that day I decided to hide my emotions from that teacher as well as I could and never speak in his class or else he’s gonna comment on something that I can’t really change in front of everyone again. I mastered the art of “I have no emotions” and actually never spoke in his class again. The thing was that this type of handling the teachers I soon started to practice in other German subjects as well because most of the teachers happened to be difficult persons which meant that the perfect way to deal with them without any problems was silently obeying. I mastered that as well. Now, the problem was that for Germans speaking is apparently a very important part of the class. 50% of the grade of one subject consisted of only speaking in class. And I HATED that. Still do! Because it didn’t matter if you perfectly and carefully summed up everything in one sentence. The only way you were valid in the eyes of the German teachers was when you talked a lot, even if it was just straight up bullshit. I’ve never been the type of a guy to just talk about something, I need to get straight to the point and that didn’t go well with the teachers. Basically, everyone thought that I just wasn’t good enough in German so that’s why I never talked.

Now fast forward to the end of the 12. grade where we were taking our Abitur and specifically the speaking part of the German exam which consisted of 20 min non-stop talking about a literary piece we were handed 15 min prior. No doubt no one had any faith in my German skills because I had never talked in the class that much. And boy how everyone in the room was shook when the results were announced and I actually was the second best with my score in the speaking part in the whole class full of literal geniuses. My German Literature teacher seeked my out twice, once even during the after-party of our graduation, to ask “How did you do that?” The second time he asked I decided that I’ve had enough with playing this obedient silent student and told him that I started learning 3 days before the exam day (which was outrageous by the standards of my German teachers) and that I actually never read more that one chapter from one of the four books that were chosen for our Abitur because I hated it so much. And you know how he answered? He said a tiny “oh” and walked silently away. No comments. No nothing. I felt so empowered. So alive suddenly. It was the last day I had to see those teachers in my life  and I actually threw away my shackles and for once said what I actually thought into their face. I’ll probably always deem this moment as the proudest moments I’ve ever had.

10) What makes you happy?

🎶 Singing. I have been in a choir since I was 3, for two years I was in a school band and every now and then I would perform during public ceremonies in school or for the important guests there. I’ve never officially learned singing anywhere but experience is a good teacher as well :) Singing is one of the few things that always helps me forget my problems and makes everything feel so much better.

Hiking in nature makes me content as well. I dare to say that I am quite a nature loving person. Just hand me my camera and the normally 30 min long stroll through the woods will turn into a 3 hour long session of capturing the tiniest details the forest has to offer.

Travelling is a passion of mine as well but I’m not rich so yeah there’s that… 

🌸🌸🌸

I’m tagging @justajojokejobro, @kakashis-kunoichi, @sand-rose, @succulentbutt, @who-let-the-deans-out-doctor-who, @louiserandom, @hokutodecuisine, @raven1aris and anyone else who wants to participate!

My questions for you can be found under the cut:

1) What is your favourite kind of cake?

2) What language would you want to magically learn overnight and why?

3) What do you think about Eurovision? (Do you have any favourite performances?)

4) What is the best food your mother/grandmother makes/has made?

5) Do you have any people in your family tree whose history is interesting or about who you know a funny story you would like to share?

6) Do you collect anything?

7) What are you good at?

8) What is something you are trying to achieve or master at the moment?

9) Is there something weird/uncommon that you like/do?

10) What makes you happy?

[imagines-for-the-fangirls-soul]

Aftermath - Peter Parker

I Love You and I Like You Chapter Fourteen

A/N: Hello! Hello! I know it’s been a long time since I wrote ILYAILY, but I couldn’t help but add Infinity War and Endgame chapters! I’ve had this drafted since IW came out, and since seeing Endgame, I had to post. If you haven’t seen Endgame yet, there are a few spoilers at the end of the fic! I hope you enjoy! I’m sorry about the angst!

If you haven’t read the original fic, you can find all chapters in my masterlist, but long story short, Peter is now 20, the reader is 23 and they have been together for two/three years now. The reader is also a superhero and they’re currently in a long distance relationship because he is at MIT. Anyways! You’ll understand the fic if you just read this part! I’m sorry I’m talking too long! Just read!!!

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader Word Count: 5,188 Synopsis: It has been two years since the last ILYAILY chapter, and Peter and the reader are getting used to their new lives. Just as Peter returns for his summer break from MIT, Thanos sends his people down to collect the rest of the Infinity Stones.

Tags: @atomicpeacekryptonite, @spiderking-of-queens, @the-life-of-a-loser, @drunken-superheros (Taglist people!! A lot of the original list has either deactivated or changed their urls, so if you would like to be added to the list, please let me know! I have at least one more fic drafted to add!)

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

Y: Are you done with your exams yet?

P: No, I have one more tomorrow.

Y: If you skip it will you fail?

P: Yes

Y: Fuck

P: Miss me?

Y: Sooo much. Check your Snapchat to see how much

Peter smiled as he changed apps and opened the Snap you just sent him, showing off your cleavage. He bit his lip and started to seriously consider how much it would affect his grade to leave Massachusetts right now and drive back to New York.

Y: What? No response?

P: I wish I could come home. You are so hot

Your next text was just a Spotify link to the *NSYNC song, Digital Get Down. He laughed out loud and immediately Facetimed you. You picked up right away, grinning at him widely.

“Hey,” Peter said.

“Hey.” You ran your fingers through your hair, purposefully knowing that it drove him crazy.

“I miss you.”

“I miss you, too. I can’t wait for you to come back to the city.”

“Me too. How’s my favorite Stark Industries engineer? Any cool projects you’re working on?”

“Weirdly enough, I didn’t send you that snap so that we could talk about my job.”

“I know,” he said, smiling, “But I can’t talk for that long.”

“You don’t even take that long in the first place.” He opened his mouth in shock, making you laugh.

“You know, I take offense to that. You’ve lost all sexting privileges.”

“I can’t lose them if I never had them,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“When I get home, we will spend every second in bed-”

“Every thirty seconds,” you teased.

“I’m staying in Massachusets.”

“No, no, I take it back,” you pleaded, pulling the phone close to your face. “I love you and you satisfy all of my needs.” Peter laughed and threw his arm around his head, relaxing back in bed.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too. And I like you. You should get back to studying.”

“Yeah. I’ll call you as I’m leaving. I like you, too.”

“Bye,” you said, hanging up on him.

“Y/N!” You turned around on your way to your office inside of Stark Industries and saw Tony Stark himself running towards you.

“Hey. What are you doing here? I hear congratulations are in order!” He smiled as you patted his arm, feeling the hollow shake of where the metal plate in your hand used to be.

“Thank you. I thought it might be nice to swing by and see how things are going with my company.”

“Isn’t that what board room meetings are for?” He ignored your question as he opened the door to your office.

“You know, you don’t have to wear that,” he said, referring to your professional outfit. “I wear sweats and t-shirts when I work.”

“I know, but actually, I do have to dress like this. The rest of the men in my department don’t take me seriously unless I dress like this.”

“Fire them,” Tony said optimistically, taking a seat in front of your desk.

“I didn’t hire them,” you said, smiling slightly as you sat down.

“I know, I did, and I’m telling you to fire them if they’re being assholes.”

“I’ll take that into consideration. So, Tony, what are you doing here?”

“When does the kid get back?”

“Peter should be back tonight. Why?”

“I might have a new suit design prepared for him.” You smiled and clasped your hands together.

“I’m sure he’ll be ecstatic to see it. Do you want to come over for dinner or something?” Tony looked at you seriously, pulling his glasses down the bridge of his nose.

“You seem stressed, what’s up?”

“Nothing, I just miss my boyfriend,” you said with a sigh.

“You talk to your uncle lately?” You shook your head with a frown. “City can be pretty lonely. I know better than most. You taking care of yourself?”

“I’ve got Peter. And you.” He smiled and stood up.

“So? Dinner this week?”

“Absolutely.”

“Alright. My people will call your people.” You laughed and nodded. “Fire those assholes! And use protection! We don’t need any spider-grandchildren yet.” You rolled your eyes and turned on the computer, feeling grateful for the smile on your face.

In the past two years, with Peter being away at MIT, and Steve cutting off contact with the world, you felt really lonely in the big city. You had your family and your friends, but things weren’t the same. A nagging notion in your head told you that you were also missing your plates. Tony had turned off the slightly functioning one to keep it from destroying your hand, and their absence made you feel even more alone.

As you pulled up the schematics for the recent product from Stark Industries that would monitor radiation pollution, your phone buzzed. Expecting it to be a message from a coworker, you glanced down at it briefly.

P: Finished with my exam. On my way home!

Y: Yay! Hurry the hell up!!

This message lifted your spirits and inspired you to get some work done. You started configuring the sensor on the monitor and filed paperwork to get two of your least favorite employees out of the company. You left work early and headed down to Peter’s favorite Chinese place, picking up his favorite before getting back to your apartment. If Peter had truly left when he said he did, he should be getting home soon.

You spun your armchair around to face the door, checking your phone every few seconds to see when he would be home. At 6:53, you heard shuffling in the hall and threw open the door. Peter looked up at you in surprise, wearing an MIT hoodie and ruffled hair.

“Hey, babe,” he said with a smile.

“Oh my god,” you said, wrapping your arms around his neck. He dropped his bag and hugged you back tightly, picking you up off the ground. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“I’ve missed you, too,” he said, setting you back down to kiss you softly. You hummed into his lips, grabbing onto the hem of his sweatshirt, holding him against your chest.

“Come inside,” you whispered, pecking his lips once more before backing up. He picked his bags up off the floor and followed you inside, kicking the door shut behind him. He tossed his bag onto the couch before coming up behind you. He snaked an arm around your waist and kissed your neck a few times.

“How was your exam?” you breathed.

“Good.”

“Good,” you said as he continued to kiss down your neck, making you smile. “I have a surprise for you.”

“What?” he asked, picking his head up. You laughed and leaned back to kiss him before leading him into the kitchen. Sprawled out on your countertop was a spread of practically everything the Chinese restaurant offered.

“Do you like it?” you asked, squeezing his hand. He laughed and pulled you in close, kissing you again.

“I love it. Of all the things I missed most-” You loosened your grip on his hand, looking at him angrily. “You are obviously the most, but food from Wok on the Wild Side is the second.”

“Damn right.” He laughed and opened up a bag, taking a bite of an egg roll.

“You didn’t have to do this, you know?” he said, his mouth full.

“Oh, I know I didn’t. But I want you to know exactly what you’re missing when you go back to MIT next fall.” He cocked an eyebrow at you, finishing his egg roll.

“So, you’re going to have buffets of Chinese food every single day?”

“Well,” you said, walking over to him, “Your surprises aren’t all entirely of the food variety.” You grabbed his hand and pulled him back to your bedroom, kissing him quickly every few steps. Once you got inside, you started to pull off Peter’s sweatshirt, which he threw over his head.

“God, I’ve missed you.”

“Show me how much.”

Coming out of the bathroom later that night, you smiled at Peter. His head was propped up by a pillow, his arm draped over his head. You crawled back into bed and kissed his chest.

“I love summer break,” he said, letting out a satisfied breath. You groaned and laid in his arms as he wrapped them around you.

“Don’t remind me that it’s only a break. I’m pretending you’re never going back to MIT.”

“Well, that’s months away. And who knows, with all you’ve got in store, maybe I won’t go back at all.” You laughed softly and tilted your head to look up at him.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you said, poking his chin softly.

“I would never.”

“Should we bring all that Chinese food in bed with us?”

“Are you kidding me? Absolutely,” Peter said, getting out of bed. “It’s even better when it’s cold.” He came back into your bedroom with a six-pack of beer and all of the takeout boxes. You sat up in bed and smiled at him as you opened the bag of crab rangoons.

“Alright, so now that we’ve got the important things out of the way,” you said, throwing your hair up in a ponytail, “Tell me everything.”

You each discussed the projects you had worked on since seeing each other last. Peter described his new friends and his proposed idea for a thesis. You got him caught up on all the drama at your work, eventually getting to what happened today with Tony.

“He’s got a new suit for me?”

“That’s what he says,” you said, using your fork to kick around the rice. Peter noticed your mood change and touched your knee.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. It’s just-” You stopped and sighed.

“You can tell me anything.”

“I know. I’ve just,” you sighed again, moving all of the food from the bed and sprawling out. Peter laughed quietly and looked down at you in confusion.

“Okay, I was still eating that,” he said as you laid your head down on his lap. He played with your hair, smiling at you. “What’s up?”

“I’ve missed you, I miss the Avengers, I miss my stupid uncle, I am getting so mad at the idiots I work with, and I am a little bit jealous that you got a new suit.”

“Well, that is a lot. But I’ll tell you what, I’m here now. As far as I’m concerned, I’m the coolest Avenger anyway,” he said, making you laugh, “And if you want a new suit, I will make you a new suit.” You reached up and cupped his cheek.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too. Do you want Spider-Man to go beat those idiots you work with up?”

“So much.”

“Can I eat that food now?” he asked quietly.

“Sure, I’m just having a crisis, but by all means, eat your fucking mu-shu pork.” Peter smiled as he moved you off of his lap and onto a pillow.

“I’ve missed you so much.” You smiled, and relaxed against your pillow, you realized how tired you were. You had been bottling up so much since Peter had left, and it felt so good for him to be back and to get everything off your chest, that you expected you would sleep easy tonight.

So easy, in fact, that you didn’t even notice that you had fallen asleep. You only felt Peter tuck you in after he turned off the lights and wrapped his arms around your waist. He fell asleep next to you with a full stomach, completely satisfied.

“Pete,” you said the next morning, shaking his arm carefully. He woke up abruptly and looked at you worriedly.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, sorry, I shouldn’t have woken you up,” you said, flashing an apologetic smile at him. He laughed and folded his pillow underneath him, looking at you.

“What’s up?”

“Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“Because it was 12:30 and you seemed exhausted.” You traced your thumb across his cheekbone and smiled. 

“I had a lot more in mind for you last night.” He smirked and grabbed your hand, kissing your palm. 

“No time like the present.”

“Hmm, I wish, but I’ve got to get to work. I’m needed in a board proposal meeting.”

“Can’t someone else do it?” he asked, pulling on your t-shirt.

“No, but I can probably leave early if you want.”

“I want that so much.” You smiled and leaned in to kiss him. “Can I cook you dinner?”

“Well, I think we have enough Chinese to last for four days, but sure, I would love that.” 

“Perfect,” he said, kissing you once more before you got out of bed to get ready for work.

Your board room meeting went poorly. No matter what angle you could spin it, there just wasn’t enough money to fund all of the projects you wanted to get done. You slumped back to your office, wanting nothing more than to go home and be with Peter again. 

You looked down at your phone and saw that you had only been here for two hours. Groaning, you decided to call Peter. His phone rang and rang, and eventually went to voicemail. 

“Ugh, where are you? Call me back.” You sat in your office for another hour, still wondering why Peter hadn’t called you back when Pepper came into your office.

“Hey, Pepper,” you said, looking up from your computer with a smile. She didn’t match it. In fact, she looked incredibly upset. “What’s wrong?”

“Turn on the news.” 

“What?” you asked as she grabbed a remote from your coffee table and flipped on the TV. Destruction was covering New York, and just as you thought it couldn’t get any worse, you saw Spider-Man swing past with Iron Man. “Oh my god,” you said, putting your hands over your mouth. 

“I haven’t heard from Peter, but Tony went up with that spaceship.”

“Pep-”

“And I’m freaking out, too, but I need you to call Peter. See if you can get a hold of him.” 

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” you said, shaking your head as you dialed Peter’s number again. It rang and rang, and just as you thought it was going to go to voicemail again, he picked up.

“Peter?”

“Y/N? I can’t believe I get reception out here.”

“Reception out where? Peter, where are you?” Pepper looked over at you, her face mimicking your reaction. 

“Um, that big donut in the sky.”

“Get back down here.”

“I can’t, I’m helping Tony. And I know you like to boss me around when we . . . but you can’t really do that-”

“Peter! You can’t go to space.”

“I can- Stark- suit-” The rest of his conversation cut off until the phone line went dead. You put your phone down with a shaky hand.

“What’s going on? What the hell is that spaceship doing here?”

“I think I can explain that.” You looked to the door and saw Bruce Banner walk into your office.

“Bruce.”

“Hi, Y/N,” he said, smiling. You stood up and hugged him tightly.

“When did you get back?”

“Just a second ago. I called Steve. We’re meeting at the Compound? What happened to the tower?”

“Long story. Luckily, we’ve got a long drive. Pepper?”

“No, I need to start clean up around here. You two go.” You nodded and gave her your hand.

“Be safe. Keep in touch.”

“You too.”

“So this is the compound.”

“Fancy digs, huh?” Bruce smiled, but you didn’t. He looked over at you, his eyes softening.

“So that spider?”

“My boyfriend,” you said, parking your car outside of the compound. 

“And you were both a part of Tony and Steve’s fight?”

“Yep.”

“I’m sorry.” You forced a smile at him and walked into the compound. Rhodey was waiting for you in the situation room and nodded at you as he finished up his phone call.

“Hey.”

“Where’s Steve?” you asked.

“On his way. You doing okay? Tony went up with that kid, right?” You nodded and flopped down into a chair in the corner. The remaining members of the Avengers were about to walk in here, who you hadn’t heard from or spoken to since the airport hangar.

“How’d it go with the secretary of state?”

“Not well,” Rhodey said, sitting down at the table. “I’ve been court marshaled.”

“Well, fate of the galaxy and all, I’m sure they’ll be forgiving.” Rhodey laughed softly and nodded his head as a noise came from down the hall. You looked over and saw Steve, Sam, Vision, Nat, and Wanda walk into the room. 

“Y/N, hey,” Steve said, coming over to you and giving you an awkward hug. “Peter will be fine.”

“Thanks.”

You sat in the corner, not getting involved with the discussion. No matter what their plan was, you weren’t going to be involved with it. Even if you could turn your plates back on, you had no chance to hold up against a god-killing monster like Thanos.

“Y/N?” You looked up when Wanda said your name.

“What?”

“What do you think we should do?”

“Thanos is coming whether we like it or not. If we can get the stone out before he gets here and destroys it, then by all means.”

“That’s not a side,” Natasha said.

“Taking sides hasn’t really panned out for us, has it?” Steve set his jaw but nodded his head.

“She’s right. This is the only option we have where we can still save Vision. And I know someone who can help.”

“Who?” Bruce asked.

“King T’Challa of Wakanda.” Bruce looked like he needed to sit down from all the new information he’d received and you couldn’t blame him. “Let’s suit up. Y/N?” He nodded down the hall and you reluctantly followed after him.

“What?”

“It is really good to see you,” he said, touching your arm gently. 

“You too,” you said genuinely, albeit reluctantly.

“I know I left you alone, and to make it up to you, I’ve had T’Challa’s sister whip up something for you.”

“Meaning?”

“She made you gloves that should harness your power without the plates.”

“I haven’t fought in two years.”

“No time like the end of the universe,” he said, smiling softly.

“Ah, I see you’ve picked up more jokes since you’ve been gone.” Steve smiled.

“A few.”

“Alright, well, thanks.”

“One last thing, though. You’ll need to get the plate out of your hand.”

“What, do you want me to just rip it out?”

“No. Bruce thinks he can remove it on the ride over.” There was so much to take in, but absolutely no time, so you had no choice but to agree.

“Okay.”

Within ten minutes, you all gathered the needed supplies and boarded the ship. Once it took off, you found Bruce. You smiled at him and he looked just as nervous as you.

“Have you ever performed hand surgery before?”

“No, but that’s what she’s here for.” He motioned over to Wanda as she walked into the room. “She’s going to be my hands and I’ve got this manual,” he said uncomfortably.

“Alright, what the hell,” you said, holding out your palm. 

By the time you landed, you had cursed Wanda out twice, resulting in her using her skills to basically turn off your mind. Once you came to again, Bruce was bandaging up your hand.

“How’d it go?”

“Great,” Wanda said, putting her jacket back on.

“Great, thanks.”

Shuri was amazing. The first instance you met her you knew the two of you would be friends. Peter would like her even more. She was wildly intelligent, witty, and cute. She fitted a more advanced plate technology into gloves for you. When you put them on, you felt the familiar surge of power flow to your fingertips. This, combined with the power still embedded in your palms naturally, made you feel more powerful than anything you had produced on your own, or with Tony’s plates.

Steve looked at you with worry, but you nodded. Shuri was now working on removing the stone from Vision, and Thanos’s army was arriving.

“How do you feel?”

“Powerful,” you said, wiggling your fingers, making a few sparks come out. “Check it out.” You snapped your wrists and instantly two identical, sharp-edged shields appeared out of the gloves. Steve smiled and patted your shoulder as you snapped them away again.

“I also had her design a new suit for you.”

“You’re really trying to make it up to me, aren’t you?”

“I need to.”

“Thanks,” you said with a smile. One of the Wakandan guards led you down to a room where a pale purple leather jacket and black pants to match your gloves were spread out on a table. They were lined with bullet-proof fabric, but you didn’t know how that would hold up against alien technology.

“Ready?” Nat asked, stepping into the room.

“Yeah. Let’s stop this son of a bitch.”

Standing next to Natasha and Steve, you watched with the rest of the Wakandan warriors and your friends as the alien creatures ripped themselves apart trying to breach the wall. You wondered if Peter was having these same troubles as the wall opened up and you went running into the firefight. 

As you ran, you snapped the shields into place and pushed one full force. It plunged into the chest of one of the aliens, dropping it to the ground immediately. You smirked and made eye contact with Steve who smiled back. You snapped another shield into place and took out all of your frustrations from the past two years on the aliens.

Over and over again, you sent shield after shield into the chests and skulls of the aggressive alien creatures, and over and over again, they kept coming. It seemed that Thanos had brought an infinite number of soldiers with him, and you were wondering how you were going to stop him. Wanda had already joined the fight, and even with one of the strongest Avengers, you didn’t know if you could defeat Thanos.

Just as this thought entered your head, thunder struck overhead, and everyone, including the aliens, turned to see the god of thunder himself strike down onto the ground, demolishing a slew of aliens. You smiled. Inspired by his action, you created a giant ball of force and sent it rolling across the field, flattening a group of aliens. Thor nodded at you, winking slightly as he went flying across the field.

Just as things were starting to turn around, you felt a disturbance in the air. You and Steve had run over to help out Vision when the unknown change occurred. You looked over at Steve and saw that he felt the same presence.

“Everybody on my position. We have incoming.”

A few moments later, a thick cloud of smoke grew before your eyes and Thanos stepped onto Wakanda. The rest of the Avengers gathered around you, and you all readied yourself to fight. Over and over your friends went after Thanos, and by some combination of his strength or the stones’, he took every single one of you out. 

As he came towards you, you sent shield after shield towards him, but he waved them all away like he was swatting a fly. He jumped and was about to punch you into the ground with his massive fists as you created a force field around yourself. You held on as long as you could, you fingers straining with the weight of keeping the shield up, but eventually, he overpowered you.  

It felt like all the bones in your body were broken, and too weak to move, you watched Thanos step over your body. Steve put up a valiant fight, as did Wanda, and you still carried hope as Thor plunged his ax into Thanos’s chest, but then, everything changed.

Thor screamed at Thanos as Steve came rushing forward, but the ugly purple alien disappeared right in front of your eyes. You struggled to sit up and watched your friends disappear to dust around you. You stumbled over to Steve, ignoring the pain in your body as you clung to him as the world changed forever.

“Oh god.”

Once what happened set in, you stood up and started pacing back towards the castle. If anyone could make contact with Peter, it would be Shuri.

“Y/N! Y/N, wait!”

“For what?” you shouted, looking back at Steve. Your eyes were frantically searching his. “What am I supposed to wait for?”

“I don’t know, but-” You ignored him and kept walking. Across the field, dead alien bodies laid with a few Wakandan soldiers. The ones who had survived had also dipped slowly in number with the snap.

You didn’t care what it would take. You just saw your friends vanish into thin air. Just the thought that the same thing could be happening to Peter made you breathless. 

“Y/N!” Across the field, Steve was coming towards you. You didn’t stop him but didn’t tell him to go away this time, either.

“What?” you asked, still walking forcefully towards T’Challa’s home. He grabbed your arm and whipped you around so you were facing him.

“You’re not the only one suffering right now, but we have to figure out what’s happening.”

“We know what’s happening! We lost! We fucking lost!” you shouted, pressing your fingers into his chest as tears flowed from your eyes. “There’s a fifty percent chance that my boyfriend is dead. A fifty percent chance. I’m not going to sit around, crying for the lives I can’t save right now.”

“Y/N-”

“Steve! I have to know.”

“I know, I know you do,” he said, putting his hands up to calm you. “With what happened in Sokovia, if Peter really is-” You rolled your eyes and walked away. If Steve wasn’t going to take you seriously, you were going to figure things out for yourself.

“Shuri? Shuri?” you called, walking into her lab. There was only one person in the room, one of Shuri’s bodyguards, crouched down on the floor, crying softly.

“What happened?” she whispered heartbreakingly.

“Thanos,” you said, letting out a sigh. “Shuri?”

“Vanished into thin air.” You nodded and set your jaw, trying to think of another way to discover Peter’s fate.

“Fuck!” you shouted, kicking the nearest table. 

“Y/N,” Steve said softly.

“Just, give me a minute. Go figure out what we do now. I’m fine,” you said firmly. He looked like he wanted to stay, but he didn’t want to argue with you anymore.

Your last hope for making contact with Peter and Tony was now gone, and the weight of what happened felt like it doubled. Even if they would have survived the snap, who knew if they had made it to that point in the first place? If they did survive, their chances for survival in space weren’t looking promising either.

On Titan, the world began to shift around Peter, too. He watched the weird girl, the big angry guy, the Footloose lover, and the magician disappear before his eyes. He felt something strange in the pit of his stomach, just as Tony’s eyes fell on him.

“Kid, don’t,” he said warningly. Peter shook his head, stumbling towards him.

“Mr. Stark? I don’t feel so good.”

“You’re alright,” Tony said, although his voice didn’t agree.

“I don’t . . . I don’t know what's happening. I don’t know,” he said, falling into Tony’s arms. Tony held him back, his heart thundering in his chest. “I don’t want to go, sir,” Peter cried, “Please. Please, I don’t want to go. I don’t want to go. I have to get back to Y/N.”

“Yes, you do,” Tony said, helping him down to the ground. Peter looked into his eyes, finding similar tears in his. They both understood at this moment that they had failed and that they would never see their loved ones again. Peter stumbled over his last words.

“I’m sorry,” he said weakly, his eyes looking away emptily. In his arms, Tony watched as Peter disappeared to dust just like the rest of them. He tried to hold onto any part of him, but he was gone, and Tony was now alone in space with Nebula, with no hope of getting back to what remained Earth.

Two weeks since the snap, the world looked bleak. Power was still out in most parts of the world. Many locations still didn’t know exactly what happened and explaining it was another headache entirely. You went back to the Avengers facility with the rest of your friends, even though all you wanted to do was cry in bed.

Pepper offered all of the resources that Tony Stark could and put you in charge of divvying up what help went where. You were sure it was because Steve requested that the job be given to you to keep your mind off of Peter, but it was nice nonetheless. You got to help people all over the world, so you didn’t have to worry about helping yourself.

You arrived back at the Avengers compound late at night, ready to fall in bed and dream of Peter. As you made a bowl of popcorn in the kitchen, you saw a giant alien ship land on the yard.

“Steve? Steve!” 

You raced out onto the yard, but Steve cut in front of you when he saw the shape that Tony was in. Looking pale and week, Steve went over and helped him out of the ship. It was so good to see him that for a moment you didn’t register that Peter hadn’t stepped off the ship.

“Tony,” you said softly as he came down the steps. He looked up at you but didn’t return your smile. If anything, his face saddened when he saw you. He fell in Steve’s arms, and you rushed over to help him down, along with Pepper. Even with all the love around him, Tony’s mood didn’t change as he looked at Steve.

“I lost the kid.” You took a few steps back, letting go of Tony’s arm.

“Y/N,” Steve tried gently, but you only shook your head in response.

“No, no, it’s not true,” you muttered, shaking slightly as you stepped onto the ship. The woman Tony arrived with tried to stop you, but you pushed past her. You called Peter’s name over and over, tearing apart the ship to find some trace of him until Rhodey pulled you off. 

“Y/N, Y/N, hey,” he said, grabbing hold of your arms. Now that you were steadied, the loss took its full effect on you. You fell down to your knees, trying to keep your powers from shooting out like they did in Sokovia. You sobbed on the floor of the ship, finally feeling like the world had truly ended.

You waited until everyone had left you alone, and stepping onto the compound’s grounds, you let go.  Even as Steve and Pepper got him away from the ship, Tony still heard your heart-shattering scream, the scream that would keep him up for the rest of his days.

[maknaesdancersrappers]

*rips straw packet off*

*jams straw into overpriced iced drink*

*loudly sips*

*smacks lips* aAaHhHhhhh

heres *taps camera once* the motherfucking *twice* tea *thrice*

so if y’all dont know (or do) it’s been a year since ive passed my thesis and graduated buT some shit went down while doing my thesis project

~for context~

so first off, in my college and course, you’re allowed to work on your thesis alone or with a partner or a group of three. Before going into senior year, my friend (lets call her 🐨) and i already agreed working together; and i already came up with an idea and the name of the final output so we were basically ready but one of our friends (⚫️) in our lil group of 4 was alone bc the other one (🍋) was held back a sem so she cant take thesis class yet. Since we were all buddy buddy back then, we adopted ⚫️ into the group. The first sem was fine-ish, i didnt really notice anythinh wrong. During the first defense, ⚫️ did her report a lil poorly (like, relied on her notecards, spoke softly) and never answered the panelists questions.

When the second semester came around, thats when shit hits the fan because ⚫️ started to do poorly in school? Like she was absent frequently, relied on people to tell her what needed to be done. And basically, she didn’t help much with writing the thesis as well—at this point, im still not seeing it as something entirely bad? I mean, i was annoyed but i kept giving her the benefit of the doubt because I know she’s sickly, she’s depressed, and she has anxiety attacks. During interviews we needed to conduct, she couldn’t go if its past 3 bc her parents are strict; she’s almost, ALWAYS offline ON WEEKENDS but is online like the night before a class she knows she has homeworks or reports on. She doesn’t work on her own, like, we have to tell her what to do and when we’re looking for suppliers and people to interview, she never contributed.

But anyways, 🐨 sent a very snarky message about giving more effort and input into the thesis did I start turning on ⚫️ because I felt like I was being dragged into her laziness but lmao when i read 🐨’s message i was hurt af like i claimed that shit and i started confiding to another classmate,🍜, telling her “icb 🐨 is saying i dont do shit, i made a damn PowerPoint for us while i was sick with a damn fever” and 🍜 was like “what? No!! That was for ⚫️. 🐨 has been bitching about her and how she felt bad for you bc u were sick but were doing shit ⚫️ was supposed to do” and true enough, later that night 🍜 told me, 🐨 messages me about ⚫️ and this basically made me realize everything about her. So we started talking to multiple profs about it—our dept chairperson/thesis coordinator(🦏), our thesis adviser, and this one prof we treat as our mom for advice on what we can do. They’re all like, then tell her you have to separate ways bc she’s dragging us down and getting literally a free ride to graduation if we keep letting her do this.

I dont know what drove me to go to our guidance counselor during our thesis class (so we’re complete here, even 🍋 was sitting in), but i told her about ⚫️ and how she says shes depressed and how shes dragging us down bc of it; she’s harmed herself before, etc. and what our counselor says just made me regret going to her bc shes telling me to keep giving her a chance and when i left the office i deadass broke down crying and I texted 🍋 to come out to the buildings little balcony and i was just crying to her about how conflicted i am (bc if u havent noticed im just too nice of a person) and 🍋 gets 🐨 out so we could all talk and debate, and mind y’all this is an open area people can see us, other classmates who were taking bathroom breaks saw us and tried to comfort me. In the end, 🍋 goes to the counselor too to tell her about ⚫️ since she’s sort of closer to her? Like ⚫️ has confided some secrets to her.

Timeskip, we eventually tell her we needed to cut her off and she has a full blown anxiety attack and starting there, our friendship is basically over. 🦏 told us that she has rights to the first three chapters of our thesis since its been passed and graded already from the first semester with her name on it, buT she needs to come up with a completely different output (like new product and name) HOWEVER she basically drops out of the sem and returned next year (this year) to finish up her remaining classes to graduate.

SO THE ACTUAL TEA:

all seniors who had their thesis have defended them early this week, including 🍋 aND ⚫️. (They’re not partners thaNk god); ⚫️ had the same thesis adviser we had from before and he posted a pic on his fb, congratulating the seniors on their defenses with ⚫️ and her panelists and 🦏, with her thesis output thaT LOOKS SUSPICIOUSLY LIKE OURS. 🐨 IS FUMING AND IM TRYING TO BE LEVEL HEADED HERE BUT IM STILL JUST AS MAD BC 🦏 REPEATEDLY TOLD US ⚫️ HAS TO HAVE A DIFFERENT OUTPUT FROM US (not a book) BUT TELL ME WHY—in the picture our adviser posted—IS THERE A YELLOW BOOK IN THEIR HANDS?

Our thesis is an art therapy activity book named jitter jotter; hers, is named Doodly Doo and I’m pretty sure it’s basically STILL an activity book as well 🤔🤔🤔 i wish i could post pics, but hers is blurred out

[klaineanummel]

unexpected 3/24?

Blaine Anderson was just about the last thing Professor Kurt Hummel expected out of a TA.

Because I'm so behind, I'm cheating a little bit and using the @klaineadvent prompt for day 4 (deputy) for this chapter, even though technically this should be day 3. oops?  Hope you enjoy anyway!!

Read on AO3  |  Previous Chapter

Soon enough the sun has set on the day before classes begin and has risen on the first day of classes.

They’re beginning on a Wednesday this year, for god knows what reason, but Kurt is thankful since he only has two classes to teach on Wednesday’s. One is a small seminar, only for Music Studies senior students, and the other is his Popular Music 101 lecture.

It’s his largest class, and only one of two lecture classes he’s kept on since becoming a full-time professor. Although he much prefers seminar-style classes, where he and the students can bounce ideas off each other, he can’t deny his love for this particular class. He’s been honing the syllabus for eight years now and is very proud of what he manages to do in the class every year.

It’s also the reason that he is assigned more TA’s than anybody else in his department. As there are only a few lecture-style classes in the music department, most professor’s don’t need more than one or two TA’s across all their classes. Kurt is always given four – three for Popular Music 101, and one for Musical Composition 102.

Usually he’s grateful for the extra hands, but this year…

Well, let’s just say that this year the extra hands caused him to have a very interrupted sleep before his first day of classes.

He continues thinking about it on his way to work. All the thoughts that kept him tossing and turning all night continue to bombard him, barely allowing him a moments rest.

He’s a TA. He’s your TA. You’re technically his boss, and he’s technically a student.

But he’s older than me. He has far more life experience. He worked in business only a decade less than I’ve been alive.

You’re in a position of power over him, on multiple levels. It would be wrong.

He’s genuine and kind, and he isn’t some twenty-year-old twink trying to flirt his way to a better grade.

He has two grown children, but no ring, which means his familial situation has to be complicated on some level.

He might not even be gay.

He’s so pretty.

It’s hopeless. By the time he’s reached campus all he’s managed to do is twist his brain up into more of a knot than it already was.

He forces himself to take deep breaths as he begins the walk from the subway station to Popular Music 101. Thank god it’s just the first day. He doesn’t know how he’d be able to lecture for an hour and a half with his mind in its current state.

By the time he reaches the lecture hall it’s already filled with the voices of three-hundred-plus students. He notices Blaine, Mercedes, and Tina all sitting together in the front row, but all engaged in different conversations with students around them.

He approaches the podium, happy to see the syllabi he asked his TA’s to print out are all present and accounted for. Four large stacks of them. He’s thankful. One year his TA’s forgot to do it, which meant he had to lug over three-hundred syllabi from the staff printing room back to the hall. It was not a fun day.

“Good morning, everybody,” he says into the microphone at the podium. He waits for the students to notice him and begin to shush each other. Once the only sound is a couple of stray whispers, he continues, “I’m Professor Kurt Hummel, and this is Popular Music 101.”

He begins his introductory spiel; ten minutes on his expectations for the students and the course, how the grading works, how he will mark their attendance and participation. Once that is finished, he turns to his TA’s.

“Now, before we hand out the syllabus, I’d like to introduce you to my deputies for this semester. Blaine, Mercedes, Tina, come on up.”

The three stand up, and Mercedes confidently makes her way up to the podium. Blaine follows, which Tina coming last, looking a little hesitant.

“Hello, everybody,” Mercedes says. “I’m Mercedes Jones. I’m in my third and final year of my master’s in Music Studies, specializing in Music Education. I’m writing my thesis on the importance of music in low-income schools. This is my second year TA-ing this class for Professor Hummel, and I’m very excited to be here.”

She steps aside, allowing Blaine to come up next. He gives her the gentlest smile, and Kurt just has to look away.

“Hi,” Blaine begins. “My name is Blaine Anderson. I’m a first-year graduate student, getting my master’s in Music Business. I still haven’t decided on my thesis topic,” he sends Mercedes a wink when he says it, which somehow just makes the girl laugh and not melt into the puddle Kurt feels he is melting into. “As you can tell, I’m a little older than the other TA’s, but I promise that doesn’t mean I will be stricter on you. I also promise not to try too hard to relate to you with any cool, hip slang.”

A few people chuckle at that, and Blaine takes a step back with a bashful smile. Kurt wonders if he has literal cartoon hearts floating over his head, because it certainly feels like he does.

“Um, hello,” Tina says. “I’m Tina Cohen-Chang. Like Blaine, I’m in my first year of Music Business. Also undecided thesis. Also very excited to be here.” She steps back after that, and Blaine instantly comes up to her, putting a hand on her shoulder and rubbing it lightly. She smiles up at him, some tension clearly releasing from her body.

Kurt forces himself to look away and head back to the podium. “Just so you know, all three TA’s will have office hours once a week, and I will have office hours twice a week. Mercedes, Blaine, and Tina will have office hours Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday from 2pm to 4pm, respectively. My office hours will be Tuesday’s and Thursday’s from 10:30am to 12:30pm. Don’t worry,” he says, seeing several students frantically scribbling the information down. “I’ll send out an email later with all this information, as well as our wonderful TA’s emails.”

Once he sees a couple of understanding nods from his students, he says, “Alright, I think that’s almost everything I had planned. We’ll hand out the syllabus now, go over it briefly, and then you’re free to go.”

He nods his TA’s over, encouraging them each to take a stack of syllabi. He takes one as well, then begins the climb to the last few rows. He glances over and notices that Blaine has done the same on the other side of the hall.

He can hear Blaine quietly speaking with all the students as he hands out the packets, and really, he needs to stop doing things that make him more attractive to Kurt. Though, at this point, that seems like an impossibility. It’s becoming clear that it’s simply Blaine that Kurt is attracted to. Everything else just adds to that attraction.

Once all the syllabi are handed out, Kurt heads back to the front of the room to give a brief overview of its contents. He then asks if there’s any questions, and, after there are none, lets his students know that they are free to go.

A few students stick around to chat with Kurt, as well as with the TA’s. He can see Tina become less uncomfortable as she chats with the students one-on-one, but Blaine and Mercedes are absolute naturals.

It’s at least twenty minutes before all the students have evacuated the hall, leaving only Kurt and his TA’s.

“Need us to stick around for anything, Professor Hummel?” Mercedes asks.

“No, no, get going. Enjoy the class being over so quickly.”

Mercedes and Tina leave quickly, saying their goodbyes as they go. Blaine, frustratingly, isn’t so quick to pack up.

“I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this already,” Blaine says, slowly putting his things back into his bag. “But I’m really looking forward to working with you this semester.”

He slings his bag over his shoulders, then waves a quiet goodbye to Kurt, who stares after him like a moron.

Oh, thank god Blaine doesn’t know just how much Kurt is looking forward to working with him as well.

Chapter Four - Exclude

[human-resourccs]

He Just Likes The Rush - Ch. 2

First Chapter Here.

Next Chapter Here.

In which poor long-term decisions are made and strange friendships are forged.

~1870 words.

It had been roughly a month since Jonathan Crane had caught the eye of Gotham's very own resident Riddler, and with each completed trap room Edward had only found his interest piqued further. Nobody had ever done anything like this before - not… not willingly, anyway - and never with such perceived…

He frowned slightly, searching for the word. Determination? Compulsion? Both and neither would suit.

Like clockwork, once or twice a week he would trip a switch and escape with mere seconds to spare. He'd suspected, and promptly had said suspicions confirmed, that Jonathan was not simply wandering into harm's way due to some sort of spectacular death wish; a caught glimpse of a weak smile that could only be described as 'giddy' upon exiting to safety on one occasion made it clear he was enjoying his brushes with death.

...That being said, the Riddler would still be adamant that there was no threat if you had even a quarter of a brain cell to your name.

At any rate, the man was proving to be quite a great source of amusement. Edward had begun to look forward to these little shows, wondering what the limits of this stranger's intelligence were. He was almost rooting for him. Almost. In his background check - because of course he did a little research on him - he'd come across the doctor's thesis on the innate fears of human nature; it was a good read despite the absurdity of it. He was never driven by fear, after all. Perhaps it rang true for the common man, though. Maybe it wasn’t quite as crazy as he thought. Hmh.

It was then, as he observed the other emerge unharmed for the umpteenth time that he realised that this was becoming an unnecessary distraction; he kept finding himself wondering if the man would make good conversation. He was quite obviously a cut above the rest with regards to his intelligence. Obsession with fear aside, it was… difficult… to find intelligent - or even non-hostile - conversation amid the other Rogues. It left his mind feeling stifled; like kicking against the bedsheets that stick to your legs on a hot night. A rubber duck could only do so much with regards to any given discussion.

This would not do at all. Edward did not have the time to waste on hypotheticals, what-ifs, or maybes. Uncertainties were what he was put on this planet to solve and he resolved to do so immediately and with all of the grace and finesse that he was so famous for.

There was really nothing else for it. No answer to be had that didn't involve simply meeting this fellow for himself. It wasn't as if he had much to lose, and a tolerable conversation partner to gain. Where was the harm?

--

Jonathan was no fool; he had presumed that his repeated ventures would have garnered the Riddler's attention at some point or another. He simply was not concerned. If the rogue had any issues with the setup, he would have made them abundantly clear to him before now - subtlety pointedly not his strong suit, despite his proclamations of finesse.

This, however, did not mean that Jonathan had not been preparing for the eventuality that he would be confronted by him; on the contrary, he considered it an opportunity. Not exactly the picture of morality and quite frankly becoming tired of sneaking mediocre, watered-down chemicals from the university lab, he needed better resources. Making a few connections to the underhanded workings of Gotham would speed things along quite nicely, actually. If he played his cards right he might even find himself in a position to discontinue testing on volunteering students and move onto folk that'd be…. Less likely to be missed.

His research was being restricted by the need to stay well within safe parameters; as much as he enjoyed working with the steady stream of failing students seeking extra credit, it really just wasn't feasible to push their minds and bodies as far as he really wanted to. Needed to. The frustration of knowing that he could be doing so much more with his work was becoming increasingly harder to bear; a little more mental effort each time to show restraint. His patience would only extend so far.

So it was really quite convenient for him to find that upon his return home from his late-night working that the Riddler had unceremoniously broken into his small apartment and simply made himself at home, apparently.

As he fumbled loosely with the keys to the door he was met with a familiar voice, free from the crackling and slight fuzz of cheap stereo speakers.

"You really live like this? And here I thought the uproar of the day was supposed to be professors being paid too much."

Convenient, if incredibly irritating in a way that Jonathan found he'd already become bizarrely accustomed to due to the repeated exposure to him via audio playback.

"I think I saw a colony of rats starting to form a rudimentary monarchy in your couch stuffing. Something about rallying against the sentient mould on the wall."

Jonathan cocked an eyebrow and turned to close the door, responding in deadpan;

"Wasn't aware I was due company. Would've thrown a blanket over it."

The quiet noise of disgust behind him brought an amused smirk to his face. So he kept a clean house, then. Noted.

He brought himself to a neutral expression again as he turned to properly regard his welcome intruder; his current exhaustion was quickly depleting his patience toward niceties, but he was determined to make the most of what may be his only chance at such a connection.

The Riddler was standing in the doorway to his living room, leaning against the door frame by what appeared to be the fewest points of physical contact he could manage whilst still looking nonchalant. Germaphobe, then? Jonathan inclined his head to the side slightly, and paced further into the apartment.

"You intending to stay a while?"

"If you're offering tea, I think I'll politely-but-firmly decline."

"Suit yourself."

Definitely a germaphobe.

He strode past the man into the living room, shucking his jacket and throwing it over the back of the slightly sunken, worn couch that sat flush with the wall. The Riddler had turned, slightly stunned and possibly offended by the lack of surprise at his sudden arrival, and followed suit into the room

Perhaps Edward should've opened up with a musical number instead.

Opting to stand, he leaned forward slightly upon his cane - one that mirrored the gaudy depiction of the first death trap, Jonathan noticed - and recovering quickly from his slight shock, tilted his head with a flashy smile.

"You're a rather curious man, Doctor Crane."

He held out a gloved hand, palm up.

"What kind of University professor risks his life on a regular basis for kicks? Now that is a conundrum."

Jonathan met his gaze but made no comment, which Edward immediately presumed to be an indicator to continue, which he did.

"And the answer, well, I was certainly pleasantly surprised. You're quite a busy man when you aren't grading papers and tripping death-… solving puzzles."

Jonathan wondered why the Riddler's domino mask seemed to have such a great deal of work put into it. The eyes were completely obscured; didn't look like regular glass, but he was no expert with hardware. He remained silent, brow furrowed slightly.

"Imagine my abject shock and horror to find that the head of psychology at Gotham University was holding highly unethical after-school clubs! Positively dastardly."

"Mmh. So what are you here for, then, Mister Riddler? You're not going to turn me in, and it's clear you've got no quarrels with me."

Edward's smirk dropped slightly. Maybe he wasn't a fan of being interrupted mid-spiel. Best not to tell him how he'd learned to tune out his obnoxious speeches, then. Jonathan conceded the man's genius status, and loathed that he chose to display it with such absurd grandiose.

"Straight to the point then, eh? Fine. Boring, but fine."

He repeated the gesture with his hand, holding it out before Jonathan. The grin found its way back onto his face.

"You're an intellectual. I'm an intellectual. Let's be friends, shall we?"

For the first time that evening, Jonathan was actually mildly shocked. He frowned lightly, glancing down at the hand extended to him.

"…Friends."

"Well, about as friendly as two madmen in Gotham city can be, anyway."

Edward emphasised the word "madmen" with a mocking tone usually saved for schoolyard name-calling.

"After all, have you seen the average everyman in this city? This country? Much as I adore the sound of my own voice, I would like a little input that isn't my own in conversation now and again. Besides!-"

He straightened himself in a smooth motion, tossing up his cane in order to grip it about the middle - punctuating his sentence by giving it a slight sideways flick.

"I do so loathe to see a fellow genius so restricted by the morons around him. My heart bleeds for you, truly. Though I can't quite sympathise with your... chosen field, shall we say? I'd certainly be willing to lend a helping hand to a friend. That is what you're after, yes?"

Jonathan would admit that the Riddler had pitched the proposal rather well. Obviously he knew exactly what he'd been going to say from the moment he broke in; and this was precisely the sort of deal he had been hoping to make. He had no interest in any kind of companionship; there was a reason he never socialised with the other staff.

However… the few observations he'd made in the past few moments were intriguing. Maybe he could still find entertainment in this, too. What had a self-proclaimed supervillain to fear? And what exactly was it that caused so many of them to congregate in this city, of all places in America? As he considered it, he did find the thought interesting; as any man of science would, he couldn't exactly leave such a question unanswered when the opportunity was right in front of him.

Yes, this would suit him quite well, he supposed. Risky, of course, but after all, he did enjoy calculated risks; this would dramatically speed up his research, he hoped to have a more potent, fully functional revision of his toxin by the end of the next month.

He wasn't to know, of course, that he would be doing much more than clinical tests by then. So much more.

"Doctor Crane, my arm is going to wither and fall off if you take any longer to come to a decision."

He blinked, having realised he'd been staring at the outstretched hand for a fairly long moment.

Right.

Without hesitating a moment longer, he shook the Riddler's hand.

"I do think we have a deal."

[saferincages]

I was writing this as a private message to @mothlissa because she is the most lovely and patient, and has been listening to all my ramblings and happy memories and beloved feelings about Star Wars for the past week, but I was inspired to post it instead. (I actually thought I told this story once a long time ago, but I can’t seem to find it anywhere on my blog?)

when I was a senior in highschool, I took a drama class that was open to everyone, so there were students from all four grades in it. (I was deeply into my passion for LOTR at this point, and was writing my AP thesis on Tolkien’s trilogy, so that was a major omnipresent part of my identity right then, as I did research and collected scholarly sources and pored over chapters repeatedly. you could probably find me wearing my Evenstar or at least my Nenya on any given day, because I have never been anything less than a parody of myself). anyway, I had a huge binder, it was white, and it had those clear plastic coverings on the front and back, and to further reduce myself as a nerd stereotype, I made collages of a bunch of my favorite characters and covered the whole binder in them, underneath the plastic.

so one day we were working on scenes, and I pulled my binder out, and a freshman in my class got excited because she saw Anakin and Padme as part of this collage, and she started telling me how much she loved Star Wars and the prequels were her favorite everything, and it made her so sad because kids were mean to her about it.

she was a special education student, she had some learning disabilities and a little bit of a speech disorder, along with a physical component. (I don’t want to be ableist in ANY way in describing this, but it’s important to relay for the sake of the story.) she was incredibly sweet. cohesion/concentration was hard for her sometimes, but she told me she never got bored or had trouble understanding Star Wars. kids, because unfortunately they can be super mean, told her she looked/sounded like “an alien.” Star Wars made her feel better about it.

I worked with her a lot, she was genuine and likable and it killed me that other students (particularly in her grade) bullied her, and sometimes if we had free moments she would ask me about LOTR and what my necklace was etc, because those movies/books were too much for her, but she was so curious and she wanted to KNOW. gosh typing this up makes me tearful remembering it

at some point in the class we were assigned to bring an object of comfort/importance in our lives to class and write (then read aloud) about it. as it turned out, she had a doll of Jar-Jar Binks that she'd cherished for years, and most days she secretly carried him with her in her backpack, like a talisman against the unkind words that were thrown at her, and she was SO FREAKING BRAVE she did her scene about it. imagine this for a moment. the MOST mocked character, maybe of all-time, and she expressed her love for him in front of an entire class in a blackbox theatre. she said he made her feel less “weird” - his eyes protruded too! he got overly excited and hyper, he had trouble with grammar and sentences and sometimes didn't relate to/understand the people or events around him! but he was still brave and he had a job in the SENATE and he had helped save his people! I legitimately sat in awe of her doing this, just straight up defying ridicule and basically proclaiming - I LOVE this, and I don't care if everyone else hates it, because it means something to me!

is he obnoxious to many? well...yes. but. I haven't been able to see a single word or joke against his character since without thinking of her, and I really do not care if every other person on this earth who has seen TPM derides him, his existence is important, because he gave this ONE little girl solace and hope in a world that treated her badly simply for being different.

that, my friends, is an example of why stories and fictional characters matter. it may not be “real,” but the impact it can have on our lives, the strength and consolation it can bring us, the way it can help to shape our identities, the way we carry that love as a source of joy, even (perhaps especially) during hard times, that is undeniably, indelibly, powerfully real, and true, and good, and beautiful.

[morningfears]

Television Romance [Chapter Two]

Rating: PG-13 (a little suggestive, a little swearing)

Summary: Luke and Natalia go on their first date and they’re surprised at how well they get along. Natalia is also surprised at how well she’s able to ruin a moment.

Word Count: 6.7k

Chapter One

The conference room was empty as Natalia settled into one of the oversized office chairs situated around the long wooden table. She still had twenty minutes until colloquium, a meeting that took place every other Friday and served as a way for students to get to know their professors’ and colleagues’ research interests, began but she had just gotten out of a meeting with her advisor and didn’t feel like walking the extra few steps to the grad office. She knew that it would be full of students, each of them expressing how pointless they found colloquium or how annoyed they were to be on campus on a Friday, and though she usually felt compelled to agree (colloquium was, for the most part, pointless and her Fridays suffered greatly for it), she was in too good a mood to complain.

Although her workload had felt overwhelming, she’d managed to finish it all in far less time than she anticipated. She’d worked harder than she had in months and her sleep schedule suffered dearly for it but her advisor had the first draft of her thesis proposal, her conference paper had been submitted with nearly twelve hours to spare, and her co-author had the revisions necessary to resubmit their journal article. Her students had their first grades of the semester and every unread email in her inbox was answered.

She was exhausted, mentally and physically, but she’d managed to free her schedule completely so that she would have nothing to worry about when she went to dinner with Luke.

As if he could sense her thinking about him, Natalia’s phone vibrated in her hand and a message from Luke appeared on the screen. “Is it too cheesy to tell you that I’ve been looking forward to this all week?”

Natalia grinned at the message, a goofy smile that made her cheeks hurt, and bit back an uncharacteristic giggle as she replied, “Only if it’s cheesy to tell you that I’ve been looking forward to it, too.”

Though she had been somewhat excited when she met him - he was gorgeous - her excitement only grew the more they interacted. Throughout the week, she and Luke had exchanged dozens of messages. Most of them were superficial, wishes for good days and texts meant to plan their evening, but a few had been more fun and inquisitive. They’d wanted to save the traditional questions for the date itself - what do you do, where are you from, what brings you to LA? - so they’d had to get creative in getting to know one another.

Luke had taken to sending her cheesy jokes, stupid puns and ridiculous questions - her favorite of which was whether she would fight one horse sized duck or a dozen duck sized horses - in an effort to get to know her and it made her giddy with anticipation. She thought he was cute and he seemed charming. He was fun, silly, and sweet and she found herself starting to like him more than she thought she would. She wasn’t attached, not yet, but she could feel herself growing more comfortable with the idea of him becoming a part of her life and she only hoped that that would extend to their in-person meeting.

As she grinned at Luke’s latest joke, a cheese pun that made her groan in delight, she failed to notice the door of the conference room open or the bag drop onto the table beside her. She was too engrossed in typing out her reply, a string of emojis and a half-hearted plea for him to find a new hobby, to notice Nicole take a seat. Only when she spoke did Natalia look away from her phone.

“Okay, so, I was thinking about ordering pizza for tonight. We have some money in the grad association account and free food is the only thing I can think of that will convince people to spend their Friday night locked in the grad office. We can’t buy their alcohol but I promised everyone we would go out for drinks once the last person hit submit.”

Natalia blinked, confused as to what Nicole was talking about, before her eyes widened and her heart dropped in realization. “The writing party, fuck,” she groaned, her head falling back as she huffed a sigh of annoyance at her mistake. She wasn’t normally one to forget things - she was the first person anyone turned to when they needed to know a deadline - but it had completely slipped her mind. She’d been so caught up in wanting to see Luke that anything nonessential had completely fallen off her radar. “I’m so sorry, Ni. I totally forgot all about it.”

“It’s no big deal,” Nicole assured her as she watched Natalia spin in her chair to face her. “It really didn’t need any planning. I just sent out an email. I was hoping you could bring some of those method books of yours, though. I don’t have anything to submit so I wanted to work on my proposal. I’m having trouble wording the coding section.”

Natalia grimaced and shook her head. “No, Ni, I forgot and, uh, sort of made other plans?” 

She tried her hardest not to look guilty - it was an informal writing group that likely wouldn’t get much writing done, anyway - but Natalia felt bad. She knew that Nicole was struggling to get her proposal done and there weren’t many other people she could turn to for help. Their program was small, one of the smallest on campus, and of the current cohort, only she, Nicole, and one doctoral student had chosen the same methodology. They hadn’t had a formal class on the method yet - they’d been thrown to the wolves, not unlike the rest of their graduate career - and relied on one another to make the best of their situation.

This would have been an opportunity for them to sit down, uninterrupted by life, and work out the roadblocks she’d been hitting. However, Natalia had forgotten and committed to dinner with Luke.

“I can reschedule,” she offered, before Nicole could speak, “I feel like he wouldn’t mind.”

At the mention of a ‘he’, Nicole raised her eyebrows and shook her head. “No, seriously, it’s not a big deal. We can meet during office hours next week or something. But, that’s beside the point.” She dropped her cellphone onto the table and turned her full attention to Natalia as she asked, “He? Who is he?”

Natalia knew that Nicole was expecting her to say that the aforementioned he was her father, who she had dinner with once a week, or the new TA that followed her around like a lost puppy. But she wasn’t expecting her to say, “The guy from the coffee shop, Luke.”

“The one that destroyed your dress?” Nicole did look surprised, her eyebrows remained raised and her mouth dropped open, but she looked almost amused at the sheepish grin that graced Natalia’s face. “Let me guess, he asked you out as a way to make up for it?”

“…yes. He’s so cute, Ni, I couldn’t say no,” Natalia gushed with a grin as she shifted in her chair and reached for her phone. Nicole rolled her eyes good-naturedly and rolled her chair a little closer to lean over and take a look at the text thread Natalia pulled up. “Look, he’s been sending me stupid jokes all week and he’s excited about the date and so am I.”

“Wait, date? Holy shit, Nat, get laid!”

Natalia and Nicole glanced up from her phone and watched as Ali, the third member of their cohort - the only other master’s student that started the program at the same time as them - stepped into the conference room and took a seat across from them. “D’you finally agree to meet a Tinder match in person?” she asked as she grabbed a notebook and pen from her backpack.

“No, they met the old fashioned way; he destroyed her dress by spilling coffee on her,” Nicole answered for her as she grabbed her own notebook out of her backpack.

“Oh, retro vibes, cute. Is he hot?” Natalia rolled her eyes fondly as Ali leaned forward, her eyebrows raised as she waited for a response.

Although the three of them had grown as close as sisters and looked quite similar to one another, they couldn’t be more different. Nicole was the oldest - she’d taken two years off between undergrad and grad school - and acted like it. She was the voice of reason, the calming presence that kept Natalia from overreacting and Ali from under-reacting. She was the heart of the group, the one who provided a shoulder to cry on and a kind word of advice when things got tough, and neither Natalia nor Ali could imagine getting through grad school without her. Nicole was also married and had been for three years. She and her husband had been together since their freshman year of college - they met in a class - and she was very happy to be in a committed, long term relationship.

Ali was the wildcard of their group. She was a free spirit, only acting according to her own desires, and was unapologetic in how she lived her life. She was the group’s sense of courage, pushing Natalia out of her comfort zone by taking her out to bars and helping her fill her closet with clothes she never would’ve imagined herself wearing as well as helping Nicole get through the semester without bowing to the pressures of the administration. Like Natalia, Ali was technically single. Unlike Natalia, however, Ali dated around and kept her options open. She had a string of ‘boyfriends’ and decided that she would wait until after she received her doctorate to settle down.

Their biggest similarities were their looks. Each of them had long dark hair, though Ali’s was a shade lighter than Nicole and Natalia’s, and stood at a little over five feet. Nicole and Natalia stayed out of the sun, both of them burned quite easily and went red instead of tanning, while Ali remained a beautiful olive all year round. Nicole and Ali were both curvier, each with natural assets that Natalia longed for, while Natalia fell somewhere in an annoying gap between petite and average. 

Natalia loved the differences in her friends, she appreciated seeing the way they all complemented one another, but she couldn’t help but laugh at the almost predictable reactions she’d gotten from both of them upon learning that she had a date.

“He’s gorgeous,” she finally answered, grinning at Ali when she nodded in appreciation and gave her a thumbs up.

“That’s my girl! Have you got condoms? You can stop by my place and grab some after colloquium if you want. Oh, do you need help getting ready? I can do your makeup!” Ali looked to be almost more excited than Natalia was about the date. She was giddy, grinning at the possibilities, and Natalia hated to rain on her parade but she didn’t plan on sleeping with Luke on their first date.

“I appreciate the offer, Al, but I don’t think I’ll need the condoms just yet. I would love for you to do my makeup, though. We’re going to Oak and I know it’s kind of dark in there but it’s also a little nicer than the dives we go to so I should make an effort,” she reasoned as she watched the door swing open and a few of their classmates enter the room. She waved at them, as did Nicole and Ali, before she added, “We can talk about it after colloquium.”

Throughout the hour long meeting, Natalia’s phone wouldn’t stop buzzing. Luke texted her, a photo of himself and his dog that made her heart melt, and joked that he had the best help in getting ready for their night. Nicole and Ali filled their group chat - appropriately titled ‘why are we here?’ - with suggestions for conversation topics (although Natalia sincerely hoped ‘do you have any hot, single friends?’ was a joke) as well as gentle teasing about how their baby was growing up.

Natalia took it all in stride, shaking her head at Nicole and Ali’s teasing and gushing over Luke’s dog, but she felt just as excited as they all seemed to. It was nice, having plans and feeling something she hadn’t felt in a long while, and she only grew more excited as colloquium ended and they all began to file out of the conference room.

“Send me a text when you guys choose where you’re going for drinks,” she told Nicole as the three of them stepped out of the building, her and Ali heading toward her car while Nicole was off to her own, “I might stop by and get a drink after my date.”

“If you do, let me know. I want all the details. If not, we can all get breakfast or something and you can tell us everything.” Ali wasn’t the type to turn down a drink or gossip so it came as no surprise that she wanted to be included in the conversation.

“Have fun, Nat,” Nicole bid, a genuinely happy smile on her face as she began walking down the sidewalk. “See you later!”

Natalia and Ali waved off Nicole before they began the trek to Natalia’s car. She and Luke planned to meet at eight and it was already four. She knew that she had time - she would likely only show up a few minutes early - but she was anxious to get ready. She had no idea what she wanted to wear, how she wanted her makeup done, or how to wear her hair. She hadn’t been on a date in years - she’d been too busy worrying about school to worry about much else - so this was new territory for her.

Natalia was glad that Ali was there to help her get ready. She was glad that she had a friend who was willing to pick through her closet and help her find something that was cute enough to make a good impression but comfortable enough to wear for a few hours. She was nervous, a good kind of anxious that filled her stomach with butterflies and had her pacing her bedroom as Ali pulled the final piece of clothing from her closet.

“It’s going to be fine,” Ali laughed as she watched Natalia glance in the mirror at her makeup once more. She’d gone simple, opted for a natural look that only enhanced Natalia’s looks, and reached out to slap her shoulder to keep her from touching her eyebrow. “You’re going to wipe off my hard work. Here, get dressed. Would you mind dropping me off at my place on your way?”

“No, of course not,” Natalia assured her as she grabbed the garments from Ali’s hand and stepped into her bathroom to change. “It’s on my way. That’ll keep me from being too early, too.”

“I was at least a little strategic in getting you ready,” Ali pointed out as she waited for Natalia to exit the bathroom. “Have you warned him that you’re a chronic overachiever who can’t be late and has, like, forty calendars to make sure you don’t miss any deadlines yet?”

“I only have three,” Natalia defended as she emerged from the bathroom, smoothing the top she wore. “I keep them in different places so I always know what I need to be doing. How does this look?”

Ali brought her hand to her chest and faked a sniffle as she caught sight of Natalia. She had gone for simple here, too, and pulled a high-waisted black, button down mini-skirt, a white short sleeve top, and a distressed denim jacket. She handed her a necklace, one of the few pieces of jewelry Natalia owned, as well as a bracelet before she glanced at the two options for shoes she’d pulled out of the closet.

“How tall is he?” Ali asked as she looked between the pair of ankle boots and flats on the floor in front of her.

“Uh, very.” Natalia tried not to sound too excited at that - she’d always been fond of taller men - and Ali nodded in appreciation.

“Boots it is, then. Okay, I think you’re ready. Do you have any pictures of this guy? I’m curious as fuck now,” Ali hummed as she watched Natalia slip her feet into the boots.

“Mm, yeah, he sent me a picture of him and his dog earlier.” She reached for her cellphone, unplugging it from the charger, and opened her text thread with Luke to show Ali the photo he’d sent her. He had the same unique smile he’d shown her the day they met and his clear blue eyes were on display as he’d pulled his hair away from his face. He was cute, far cuter than anyone she’d ever dated, and she felt a small amount of pride at the impressed look on Ali’s face.

“He looks familiar,” she mumbled, after agreeing that he was gorgeous, “I don’t know where I’d know him from, though.”

“Maybe you saw him on Tinder or something,” Natalia offered with a shrug as she locked her phone and dropped it into her bag. “Or maybe he’s friends with one of your boyfriends.”

“Maybe,” Ali shrugged as she grabbed her bag and led the way out of Natalia’s apartment. “I don’t even keep track anymore. Did I tell you about Jason? I would drop out and become a trophy wife for that man any day.”

Natalia listened to Ali share a story about her latest boyfriend - one she agreed was gorgeous and seemed sweeter and a little more put together than the guys Ali usually went for - as she drove her back to her apartment. She realized, as they waited at a red light, that she would get to join the conversation about dates the next time they interacted and felt a small thrill at the idea. She usually had very little to contribute when Ali and Nicole spoke about their partners - other than the occasional, “I’m glad I’m single,” when they discussed the follies of man - and couldn’t wait to tell them all about her date.

As Natalia pulled into the parking lot of Ali’s apartment complex, Ali reached into her bag and pulled a few foil squares from one of the pockets. She took Natalia’s hand off the steering wheel as soon as she’d put the car in park and placed the condoms in her hand before she patted it and grinned. “You never know what you’ll need, so, just in case.”

With that and a grin that made Natalia roll her eyes, Ali climbed out of the car and sent a wave in her direction before bounding up the stairs. Natalia remained in the parking spot for a second, pausing to collect her thoughts and take a deep breath, before she shoved the condoms into her bag, pulled out of the parking lot and made her way to Oak.

When Luke asked if she had any preferences for their date, her first thought was of Oak. It was a bar that couldn’t be considered a dive but was also a far cry from the swanky clubs in other parts of the city. It was nice but not too nice. Like Molly’s, the bar was Instagrammable - a key factor in its popularity with college students as the drinks were a little pricier than two dollar beer but not unreasonable for an every now and again sort of thing - and encouraged patrons to dress a little nicer than the go-to athleisure look. Everything about it read 1920s speakeasy, except the patio. Natalia loved the patio, hidden off to the side with little wooden benches and cool metal tables surrounded by walls covered in ivy, and she was glad the weather was nice enough that she could request they sit out there.

The interior was always a little dark but Natalia thought it was kind of romantic as the lighting was supplemented by tea candles on the tables. However, the music - an array of jazz - was usually a little too loud for conversation. Because of that, she hoped that Luke wouldn’t mind if they ordered their drinks and took them outside so they could talk.

When Natalia arrived (only five minutes early, a rare feat for her as she usually arrived with twenty minutes to spare), she was pleasantly surprised to see Luke waiting for her near the front steps. Although she’d found him attractive upon first meeting him, dressed in basketball shorts and looking like he’d just woken up, he looked even better dressed up.

He had also opted for simple and wore plain black jeans and a wine red button down. He left the first few buttons undone and Natalia imagined that if she were a cartoon character, her eyes would be hearts by now. She wanted to stare at him for a moment longer but she didn’t want to keep him waiting. She took another moment, another deep breath, before she climbed out of the car and crossed the parking lot to join him.

“Hi.”

Luke lifted his head, turning his attention away from his cellphone, and grinned at the sight of Natalia. He quickly locked the device and shoved it into his pocket as he returned her greeting. “Hi.” He paused, his eyes raking over her body and taking in the sight of her, before he added, “You look beautiful.”

Without thinking, with only a giddy nervousness filling her mind, Natalia grinned and returned, “So do you.”

She and Luke stood there, taking one another in with pink cheeks and silly smiles, for far too long. It wasn’t awkward, the silence was appreciative and punctuated by shy grins and quiet giggles, and Natalia would have been content to spend the evening sharing heart-eyed looks with Luke had another couple not walked by, breaking the spell.

“Do you want to head in?” Luke asked, glancing at the door a few feet to his left before returning his gaze to Natalia. “I’ve never been here before.”

Natalia glanced up at him - the height difference was still noticeable, even with her heeled boots - and smiled as they entered the main room. “It’s nice. I’ve been here a few times but, I’ll be honest, I usually go to this place called The Door.”

“The Door? Why here, then, and not there?” Luke asked as they approached the bar and and each reached for a drink menu.

“I didn’t want to run into every professor in my department.” When Luke raised an eyebrow at that, Natalia shook her head and quickly added, “Everyone in the department goes there for drinks and I didn’t think it would fun to have my advisor a few tables over as we tried to talk. I chose this place because I don’t really venture too far from campus. LA is… overwhelming.”

“That’s fair,” Luke acknowledged as they waited for the bartender to make his way to them. He turned to look at Natalia, an easy smile on his lips and blue eyes alight with intrigue, as he asked, “You’re not from here?”

“Is anyone?” Luke laughed at Natalia’s quip and she offered him a smile in return. “No, I grew up in Oakland. It was a different vibe. What about you? You’re not from LA.”

“I’m not,” he confirmed with a shake of his head as he moved to stand a little closer to her to let another couple access the bar, “I’m from Australia. I’ve been here for a really long time, though.”

Natalia could smell Luke’s cologne and bit back a sigh as he met her eyes once again. It was hard to keep her train of thought with him looking directly at her, the longer she stared at him, the more beautiful she found him, but she managed to ask, “Yeah? What brought you to LA?”

As Luke opened his mouth to answer, the bartender approached the pair of them to take their drink orders. Luke gestured for her to order first and she chose the only thing on the menu with vodka - the only liquor she didn’t really hate - while Luke opted for the drink with rum. They started a tab - on Luke’s card, despite Natalia’s resistance - before she gestured for him to follow her to the patio with their drinks.

“Okay, so, what brought you to LA?” Natalia repeated as they each took a seat at one of the small metal tables The lighting was better outside, a little brighter than the candlelit interior, and she had to remind herself not to stare as she waited for Luke’s answer.

“I’m in a band. We came out here to follow our dreams.” Natalia wasn’t exactly surprised to hear that Luke was a musician. He looked the part, with shaggy blonde curls and chipped nail polish on a few fingers as well as a sort of confidence about him that she’d only seen in the wannabe rockstars she knew from home, so she nodded.

“Would I know your music?”

Luke smiled at her, a sparkle of mischief in his eyes, and shrugged. The look on his face suggested there was a joke that Natalia wasn’t in on and she scrunched her eyebrows in mild confusion as he asked, “I don’t know. What kind of music do you listen to?”

“A little punk - I’m from Oakland, we have a killer punk scene,” she defended when Luke blinked in surprise. He held his hands up in surrender,  a laugh falling from his lips, and gestured for her to continue. “Um, a lot of stuff that was released before I was born? My dad was in a punk band in high school and a grunge band in college and my mom was a riot grrrl. I grew up listening to whatever they were listening to and whatever their bands played and it’s still pretty prominent in my playlists. So, punk and grunge and a lot of classic rock.”

Luke looked mildly impressed by Natalia’s taste and nodded appreciatively. “Yeah, you probably wouldn’t know any of our stuff.” Luke laughed, again looking like he knew something she didn’t, before he took a sip of his drink. She shrugged, a playful smile of her own on her lips, and he shook his head. “I wouldn’t have expected that but that’s way cooler than me. I listen to a lot of pop punk, a little more alternative. And classic rock.”

“Nothing wrong with pop punk. I love blink. And I was super into All Time Low in high school.”

The conversation hit a short lull, both Luke and Natalia glancing at one another over the tops of their drinks, but it wasn’t truly awkward. They had yet to figure out how to interact with one another, which was to be expected, so Natalia offered a suggestion to break the ice. “Want to play twenty questions?”

Luke perked up, the full toothed grin returning, and nodded as he leaned on his elbows and met her gaze across the table. “That sounds like the perfect idea. You want to start?”

Natalia nodded and scrutinized Luke as she thought up her first question.  She knew that he was from Australia and that he was in a band she probably hadn’t heard of. She knew that he had a dog and that he liked pop punk. “Do you have any siblings?”

“Two brothers, Ben and Jack. You’re in school, what are you studying?” Luke had an adorable habit of tilting his head to show his engagement in the conversation and Natalia bit back a dreamy sigh as she watched him tap his glass to the beat of the song - the patio had a stream of top 40 hits playing and she didn’t recognize any of them but, judging by the way his eyes lit up when this one came on, he did.

“Health communication. Basically, my line of research is that everyone defines health differently and you can’t expect all people to react the same way to the same messages. There is no universal definition of health.” Again, Luke looked surprised and impressed. He nodded, thankful that she’d given a bit of clarification on what she meant by health communication, and waited for her to ask her question. “What’s the best thing about being in a band?”

Luke lit up at her question, his smile growing into the tongue-pressed-to-teeth grin she was growing to adore. “Is it a cop out if I say everything?” When she nodded, Luke made a show of groaning and pouted for a moment before laughing and shaking his head. “This is going to sound really cheesy but being able to spend my time with my best friends. I love the guys, they’re my brothers at this point, and getting to work with them is all I ever could’ve asked for.”

Natalia felt her heart melt at Luke’s answer. She cooed and when Luke’s cheeks went pink, she reassured him, “That’s the sweetest answer you could’ve given. That’s really awesome. I barely know you but I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks.” Luke laughed, cheeks still flushed and eyes crinkling as he watched Natalia take another sip of her drink. “What are your friends like?” He was curious, as they were on the subject, and he wanted to know if the people Natalia surrounded herself with were as interesting as she was.

“Strange. I have my cohort, the two girls I started my master’s program with, and then I have a few friends from home but it’s a pretty small group of very different people and I don’t know where I would be without them.” It was Luke’s turn to coo, his smile soft and his cheeks still pink from a combination of the heat, the alcohol, and his affection, and Natalia dipped her head to get away from his gaze. “In your band, what’s your job? Guitarist, vocalist…?”

“Both of those, actually. I play guitar and sing. Ash, the guy that was with me in the coffee shop, is our drummer.”

“You know, I could’ve guessed that. You’ve got the lead singer look,” Natalia teased. She grinned at Luke’s raised eyebrows and shrugged. “I think it’s the hair, rockstar. But it looks good on you.”

Luke rolled his eyes, a playful gesture accompanied by laughter, and stuck his chin out indignantly. “Looks can be deceiving,” he reminded her, a playful glare on his face as he added, “You keep surprising me at every turn.” When she titled her head, curious as to what he meant, Luke smiled and gestured to Natalia’s empty glass. “That’s a good thing, I promise. And this isn’t my question,” he clarified, a playfully pointed look accompanying his statement, "but would you like another drink?”

“I’d love one. Using that time to think up another question?” Her accusation was playful, her grin gave her away, but Luke played along but giving her a pout.

“How can you think so little of me? I’m not,” Luke denied, his grin bright as he stood to grab another round of drinks. “But I’ll give you that time to think about your answer. Thoughts on social media? I’ll be back.”

Natalia watched Luke disappear through the side door, a bright grin on her lips. Luke was cute, sweet, and fun. The conversation was flowing better than she imagined it would.  She was glad that the hope she’d gleaned from her text conversations with him wasn’t misplaced and found herself itching to continue the conversation as she listened to a song she vaguely recognized as one of Dua Lipa’s filter through the patio area.

True to his word, Luke returned in a matter of minutes with fresh drinks in hand and an expectant look on his face. “So, thoughts?”

“I think it’s a useful tool in some cases and utterly useless and damaging in others. It’s helpful in emergencies, getting the word out quickly, but it’s creating a weird culture and I don’t like it. I don’t have any social media profiles aside from Facebook - my mom likes to video chat and doesn’t have an iPhone so, no FaceTime, I just use it for Messenger - and LinkedIn.” Natalia was used to the looks she got from others when she divulged her lack of social media and Luke was no different. He looked shocked but almost impressed.

“That’s really awesome. I don’t use mine much but I think it’d feel weird if I didn’t have them.”

“I mean, you’re a musician. It probably helps get the word out there, build a fanbase, all the marketing stuff. I’m an academic. The only thing I could post on Instagram is a bad selfie taken under florescent library lighting,” Natalia joked as she reached for her drink.

“No faking your life for the ‘Gram?” Luke asked, genuinely curious and interested in hearing her take on social media. It wasn’t often that he ran into people like her, not in his life, so he felt compelled to hear more.

“No, it doesn’t seem worth it. It seems like too much work and, honestly, I don’t want the attention. You have these kids that are, like, twelve blowing up online and that just seems so stressful. I don’t want the world watching my every move. I’m fine in the shadows.”

An odd look crossed Luke’s face at Natalia’s reluctance to be seen and she almost asked him about it. She didn’t understand what the issue was with her not wanting notoriety or her face to be plastered all over Instagram but the look was gone so quickly that she felt like she must have imagined it. So, instead of dwelling, she turned to her next question. “If you were stuck on an island, what three things would you bring with you?”

The conversation continued well past twenty questions. Luke was genuinely interested in her research, asking questions about her reasons for choosing such an emotionally taxing topic and what she planned to do with her research when she finished, and it was nice to just explain rather than defend her choices. She was interested in his music, curious about the songwriting process and the way he dealt with writer’s block from a creative standpoint, and it was nice to talk to someone who had no idea what his life was really like.

They found themselves talking until one of the staff members stuck their head out the door and informed them that it was last call. They’d each only had two drinks, the last was sipped over a matter of hours as they’d been talking too much to really pay attention to anything other than one another, and Natalia was slightly disappointed that it was time to say goodnight as they headed in to close out the tab.

Luke, like Natalia, dragged his feet as they left the bar and lingered near the front steps. He looked just as crestfallen as she did, not ready for their night to be over but not wanting to give her the wrong impression by asking her to come home with him. They liked one another, really and truly, and neither wanted to rush into things. It felt nice, just getting to know one another without the pressure of their lives closing in on them, and they wanted to keep it that way for as long as they could.

“I know this might be too soon,” Luke began, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he met Natalia’s gaze with a shy smile, “but would you want to go out again tomorrow? Maybe for dinner? I have rehearsal tomorrow afternoon but we could do something after that.”

Natalia grinned, a giddy smile that was contagious as Luke matched her grin with one of his own, and nodded. “Definitely. I need to spend the day writing but I’m totally free tomorrow night,” she agreed readily, not caring if she looked eager as Luke looked just as giddy as she did.

“Good, awesome. I, uh, I’ll let you know what time we’re supposed to finish tomorrow.” Luke paused, his grin softening as he realized that Natalia looked gorgeous even in the harsh glow of unflattering streetlights, before he added, “I had a really good time tonight. I’m still sorry for spilling coffee on you but I don’t regret it. Not if it gets me a date like this.”

“I really liked that dress,” Natalia teased, her cheeks flaring pink beneath the foundation she wore as she tried not to coo at Luke’s compliment, “but I’m kind of glad you spilled coffee on me. I think this date more than made up for it.”

Luke and Natalia stared at one another, grinning like lovesick fools and happy that the date had gone better than either of them hoped, before Luke stepped a little closer and asked, “Do you mind if I… can I…?”

Natalia didn’t have a rule against kissing on the first date, she didn’t have any first date rules as she decided she would just see where life took her, but if she did, she would’ve broken it for Luke. As his hand brushed her cheek, she melted into his embrace and breathed a quiet sigh as she nodded just enough for him to feel.

Luke placed a barely there peck to her lips, a soft kiss that felt more like something being taken from her than given, and she wanted to reach out and pull him back into her as he straightened up and smiled. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Natalia.”

“See you tomorrow.”

They both lingered for a second, staring at one another, before Natalia gave him a final shy smile and turned to head to her car. Her head was so far in the clouds that she didn’t notice the small dip in the ground and felt her knees hit pavement before she realized what had happened.

She wasn’t sure if she was glad that Luke was there or embarrassed he’d seen her fall as he rushed over and kneeled beside her. The contents of her bag had spilled across the parking lot and she dropped her head in embarrassment as she groaned. “Fun fact about me, I’m great at destroying the mood.”

“I tripped and dumped coffee on you during our first meeting, a little clumsiness isn’t going to destroy anything. Here, let me help you,” he assured her as he began reaching for the little things that had fallen out of her bag. Chapstick, hand sanitizer, gum, a pencil bag; all things she didn’t mind Luke seeing. However, when he grabbed the few condoms Ali left her with, Natalia groaned again.

“I wasn’t… I didn’t intend for anything to happen. My friend Ali just… threw them at me,” she explained as she shoved the items back into her bag and took Luke’s hand for him to help her back onto her feet. “Not that there’s anything wrong with sex on a first date, do whatever you want, I just… Don’t want?”

Luke bit back a laugh at Natalia’s defeated expression and shook his head. “It’s okay, you don’t have to explain. Better to be safe than sorry. And, I get it. Tonight was nice. I enjoyed it as it was. And I’m still really looking forward to seeing you again tomorrow night.”

“I’m glad. And I am looking forward to seeing you again, too. Hopefully neither of us will trip and we’ll be leaving injury and coffee stain free,” she joked as she brushed some stray gravel from her knees. “I’ll see you then. Have fun at rehearsal.”

“I would say have fun writing but, I’m not gonna lie, I don’t know if that’s appropriate to wish you?”

“Probably not, no one enjoys writing for academia, but I appreciate the thought. Bye, Luke.”

Luke waved Natalia off and waited until she’d gotten safely into her car before heading for his own. She still felt a little embarrassed - she knew that her cheeks were neon red beneath her foundation - but his handling of the situation made her feel that much better about him. He was a good guy, solid and sweet, and Natalia couldn’t wait to see him again.

___________________________________________________________

Tag List (like this post or message me if you want to be added!): @toolazymyguy , @irwinkitten , @jamieebabiee , @glittersluke , @spicycal , @lusbaby , @everyscarisahealingplace, @brokenvirtualheartcollector , @if-it-rains-it-pours, @blisshemmings , @calumscalm , @lovemenowseemenever , @ijustreallylovezebras , @rhiannonmichelle, @p0laroidpictures , @tomscuddles , @loverofmineluke , @harrytreatspeoplewithkindnesss , @blueviiolence , @loveroflrh , @empathycth , @luckyduckydoo , @tobefalling , @bandsandbooksaremykink , @watch-how-she-burns , @megz1985 , @wokeupinaustralia , @lucidlrh , @canterburyfiction , @cal-is-not-on-branding , @t-i-n-y-d-i-n-o , @jaacknaano , @findingliam-o , @old-zeppelin-shirt , @idk-who-i-am-anymore1 , @sammyrenae68 , @flowerthug , @calumsphile , @caitdaniels, @drummerboy794 , @writingfortoomanyfandoms , @x-lover-of-mine-x , @miliefayy , @sunaaii , @canterburyfiction , @sebrox40 , @nati-nn , @opheliaaurora23 , @bitterbethany , @sunnysidesblog​ , @333-xx​

[cafesandlatenights]

Chapter Three [Beyond the Sunrise, LMMxReader]

Summary: As graduation grows closer, so does your relationship with Lin. 

Word Count: 1,626

Warnings: Slow burn, but y’all are used to it by now, right?

Authors notes:  Ren - Do you guys know how much I love sister dynamics? A lot. This chapter was really cute to write, hope y’all enjoy!

Sab - Things are moving/shaking, we’re getting into the nitty-grtty, basically it’s all very domestic and I’m in love. Please give us feedback we live off of #validation.

askbox | masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter

“Lin, how do you spell disseminate?” your voice echoed in his messy living room, his answer coming almost automatically.

“Why do you need to know this word anyway?” You looked up from your laptop, watching his efforts while writing in a notebook on his desk.

“Fancy words make me look smart,” you shrugged.

“You are smart.”

“They don’t know that.”

“Well, after they read your thesis they will,” he replied, looking up from his notes for just a second and shooting a smile. His kind nature was something you still hadn’t gotten completely used to - you always wondered if he was smiling simply to smile or if he wanted something.

“Are you sure there’s two ‘s’s?” A thud on the floor sounded, he kicked his well work dictionary in your direction, “I mean, I trust you.”

A single quirk of his brow had you thumbing through the faded book only to find that he had, in fact, been right. It seemed like he was always right. From the moment where you both settled on staying friends, you easily felt into a routine: you worked on your thesis while he did whatever he needed to work on that day, sometimes he was writing, sometimes grading papers, but his presence and being able to just talk to him whenever you wanted to was a comfort you didn’t know you needed.

A few weeks had passed since the awkward ‘not-date’, and it was unbelievable to you how fast Lin made his way into your daily life since then. It was simple goodmorning and goodnight texts, offers to bring you lunch during his prep period, a warm cup of coffee as you took full advantage of his wifi.

“Ok, I helped you. Tell me what you think about this.” He cleared his throat before reciting a few lines from his notebook, looking up in anticipation of your response.

“Why did it rhyme?”

“Well, usually lyrics tend to rhyme.” He returned his gaze to his keyboard, willing the twenty-six letters to form whatever words would finish this project.

“Lyrics? As in, ‘I’m writing lyrics for a Broadway show’, kind of lyrics?” You bounced on his couch, your own laptop tipping off your legs and into the seat next to you, “You’re gonna do it?”

“Lyrics as in ‘I’m trying’, don’t get too excited about it,” he warned, but you blatantly ignored his request. He was writing lyrics, rhymes, songs! Even knowing him for only a relatively short amount of time, you knew that wasn’t something that happened very often. At least not in the past years of his life.

“I can’t help it, I’m already excited!” Your reply sounded almost like a squeal, making Lin roll his eyes, but also smile. You liked his smile, it meant that he was excited about it too, even though he was too scared to admit it. Your phone vibrated on the couch and you unlocked the screen, seeing a text from Stephen. It always looked like he was just… There. You didn’t want to answer, but the guilt made you type a quick reply.

“Boyfriend?” Lin asked. You nodded.

“I should go soon… We planned to order chinese tonight.”

Suddenly your happy little bubble with Lin popped. You would have to pack up your things, avoiding his heavy gaze on you. The worst part about your friendship, you found, was saying goodbye.

Saying hello to Stephen was easy, though. A kiss on the cheek and a toothy grin reminded you of where your true home was. The thoughts of staying with Lin vanished as you watched your boyfriend fumble with his chopsticks and insist he didn’t need a fork.

He would eventually need a fork.

He made you laugh, that was for certain. Small jokes and anecdotes of his day were easy over dinner. As you tucked yourselves into bed, pulled close to each other, it felt comfortable. His little quirks were now so familiar to you, from the way he folded his pillow to how he played with your hand when cuddling you at night. You couldn’t deny that Stephen was your safe place.  

Well, one of them. Your sisters being the others.

From a young age, you had leaned on your older sister for support and she happily offered it. You played the same role for your younger sister. Every cliche of bickering, screaming sisters was lost on the three of you. Which is why Sunday dinners were held so near and dear to each of your hearts: the tradition first imposed by your mother was now a chance to reunite the three of you and catch up, which always happened a few hours before the dinner itself.

The location? Your old bedroom, now a guest room. The large bed and the thick walls were perfect for gossiping and avoiding your mother’s trained ears: if she was an expert on hearing the talks between her daughters, you became experts on finding ways to keep some facts just between the three of you.

“I saw Stephen at the grocery store the other day.” Laura, the oldest of the three of you, started, “Said you’ve been busy.”

“Well, you know,” You waved your hand, “Work, school, it’s all a bit hectic.” You decided long ago that Lin wasn’t something you needed to share with your older sister.

You were certainly aware of how it all looked - spending your days with Lin only to return home to Stephen at night. Had it been someone you know doing what you were doing, you would only assume some sort of steamy affair was occurring.

“Have you talked to Mr. Miranda since that day at Hunter?” Ava asked, not trying to hide the expectation in her eyes.

“Mr. Miranda? The English teacher?” Laura’s eyes widened as Ava nodded, both of them turning to you, waiting an answer.

“Uh… Yes. We are friends,” you simply said, trying your best to not let your cheeks blush. “How do you know about Lin?”

“Oh, so it’s ‘Lin’ for you, huh?” Laura teased, making you roll your eyes. “Ava loves him, sis, even mom knows about the famous Mr. Miranda. I just didn’t know his first name is Lin...”

“I won’t call him mister, Laura, he’s like one year older than me!” You defended yourself, failing miserably at the whole ‘keeping it cool’ thing.

“Maybe you would if he asked nicely.”

“What does that mean?” Ava’s eyes were confused and it only took a quick glance to Laura for the both of you burst out laughing.

“Do not repeat anything you hear today to Mr. Miranda,” Your older sister pointed a finger, showing she meant business, “But you’re not off the hook here, [Y/N].”

The call for dinner halted your conversation in its tracks.

It was like a scene straight from a movie, or at least that’s what your mother wanted it to be. Sitting around the dining room table, you shared looks with your sisters while your parents made small talk, to which you answered shortly and politely. Your father asked about school, college and work, your mother covered the personal topics such as your and Laura’s boyfriend, a subject much amusing to Ava, that was too young to be involved on the matter, at least at the dinner table. Laura and you shared looks as your parents babbled about Laura’s boyfriend, Tommy, and made unfortunate comparisons between him and Stephen while the rest of the table just wanted the subject to come to a close.

Usually it did, and so did the dinner.

Then you would return to the flow of the week - classes, work, lunches with Lin and dinners with Stephen. With encouragement and probably too much help from Lin, you felt your thesis coming to a close. Before you knew it, it was ready to be submitted.

The weight of four years of work was lifted and you stood by as you marched head first into your last few weeks of a college student.

“So, three weeks and you’re free from college forever?” Lin asked, grabbing a fry from the plate. The Shake Shack became your go-to lunch place when Lin didn’t have time to order any other type of takeout. It was no Salt and Pepper Diner, but it did the trick just fine.

“Yep, three weeks and I’m free,” you stated in relief. “You’re coming to my graduation, right?”

“You want me to come?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, my thesis has so many of your fingerprints on it, it might as well say ‘Written by Lin-Manuel Miranda’,” You scoffed, shifting in your seat. The booths were nowhere near as comfortable as the beaten and worn down ones in your diner.

“I guess I can make it,” He sighed, as if watching you walk across the stage was a chore instead of the privilege he knew it was, “Your whole family will be in town?”

“Just my sisters and my parents,” You promised, “Oh! And Stephen.”

“Oh, the boyfriend,” he raised his eyebrows, before taking a sip of his drink. “How are we going to celebrate afterwards?”

“Celebrate?”

“Well, yeah! You can’t graduate and not go celebrate afterwards,” he said. “It’s the law.”

“Yeah, right, of course,” you replied, ironically. “I guess we’ll go clubbing? Laura is always the one to plan these things, not me. Her boyfriend has connections everywhere.”

“Sounds like the dude to know,” You nodded in agreement, “Listen-” the air shifted, “-I just wanted to tell you how proud I am of you.” He reached across the table for your hand.

“Oh God, can you wait like? Three weeks? We’re not even sure my thesis was any good.”

“Any good? It was written by Lin-Manuel Miranda. It was at least a C.”

tags:  @smileystumph - @justanotherhamiltrash - @always-blame-jefferson - @itsjaynebird - @angerybisexual - @l-nmanuel - @voldecrux - @phangirldil2022 - @jzzyjones - @isis278​ - @justanotherhamiltrash - @yayhamletnonstop - @musicroyalty - @thedoctorsnerdgirl - @casisnotalright- @fangirlwithasweettooth - @theselfishllama

[poppo911]

You’ve Got Mail! (Chapter 2)

Word count : 2121

Read it on FFN here

Chapter 2 – The new teacher

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To : Heymans Breda, Roy Mustang

From : Jean Havoc

Subject : No kidding, the new teacher is smokin' hot

You guys met her already? Drop. Dead. Gorgeous.

I mean look, bro. That figure. Those full lips. Most importantly, that busty torso. I am starting to question the real motive behind that old man's decision to request her here. I thought she would just be a little relieve to our school's female staff shortage, but turned out she's just… wow.

Haven't got the chance to talk to her, though. Maybe I will, during the lunch break. But from what the kids told me, she is apparently pretty stern in her lessons. Dunno if that also applies in her daily life? Meh, even if it does, real men would love a little challenge! Although I do admit that she looks pretty intimidating from afar.

Yeah, she's maybe a little elder than most of us here, but hey, still better than having a hot for one of those schoolgirls, right? It's against my morale.

P.s doesn't she look surprisingly familiar?

Jean Havoc

Coach's Aide, Physical Education

East Amestris Senior High School | 75 Sycamore Lane, East City

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To : Alex Louis Armstrong

From : Denny Brosh

Subject : Just done processing that new Dutch literature teacher's biodata

Mr. Alex,

Olivier Mira Armstrong is your elder sister?! Why didn't you tell us earlier?!

And yes, despite her rather-normal size, she still got a monstrous strength, just like you. I tried to crack a joke in order to brighten up the air during our data processing, but apparently she's not into my sense of humor.

Gotta ask Mr. Christopher to provide me a new desk.

Denny Brosh

Staff, Administrative Affairs

East Amestris Senior High School | 75 Sycamore Lane, East City

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To : Heymans Breda, Jean Havoc

From : Roy Mustang

Subject : Re: No kidding, the new teacher is smokin' hot

'Morale'? It's not something I expect from a pervert who had just described an adult female's body parts so… explicitly.

And no. Haven't met her yet. Hawkeye's going to kill me if I don't enter her class soon.

Sigh, women.

Roy Mustang

Teacher, Chemistry

East Amestris Senior High School | 75 Sycamore Lane, East City

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To : Jean Havoc, Roy Mustang

From : Heymans Breda

Subject : Re: Re: No kidding, the new teacher is smokin' hot

Jean. I have no words for this. Go see Ross, maybe she can knock some common sense into your head.

And don't be such a hypocrite, Mr. Casanova. Questioning someone's 'morale'? Think we don't know what you do in your free time?

The only one sane enough here,

Heymans Breda

Teacher, Mathematics

East Amestris Senior High School | 75 Sycamore Lane, East City

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To : Edward Elric

Cc : Maria Ross

From : Riza Hawkeye

Subject : Detention Notice

The student Edward Elric will be detained after school on March 7 from 3:30 p.m until 4:30 p.m for the following reason(s):

Intentionally drenching Mr. Roy Mustang, a chemistry teacher, in water by putting a bucket full of them above the door right before he entered the classroom.

Signed,

Riza Hawkeye

Teacher, Biology

East Amestris Senior High School | 75 Sycamore Lane, East City

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To : Riza Hawkeye

From : Maria Ross

Subject : Detention notice already? On the second day of school?

Your class, Riza, I swear. Not even Mr. Hughes' class last year can compare to this. It's allright, though, we will work things out.

Keep up our spirit,

Maria Ross

Teacher, School Guidance Counselor

East Amestris Senior High School | 75 Sycamore Lane, East City

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To : Izumi Curtis

Cc : Sig Curtis, King Bradley

From : Heracle Poarma

Subject : Re: Where are all the al dente?

Ishvalla help us, I did NOT steal your pasta, Mrs. Curtis.

Did Bradley fail to inform you? Since my class starts on Friday, I took a few days of leave right after the winter break to visit my families back in Ishval. How do you think I steal all your pasta from here? Telekinetics? Please.

And don't you dare taking back those pans. Accreditations is just a few months away and if our institution's grade goes down just because its Culinary Art Laboratory got no untensils in it, that old Grumman will surely fire me.

I'm not apologizing for this late reply. It's rather hard to get any internet signal here in my hometown, and that's hardly my fault.

(P.s Bradley, this is what happened when you don't do your job properly.)

With Ishvalan pride,

Heracle Poarma

Teacher, Cullinary Art

East Amestris Senior High School | 75 Sycamore Lane, East City

Sent from mobile

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To : Heracle Poarma

From : King Bradley

Subject : Re: Re: Where are all the al dente?

Mr. Scar,

I do not recall reading 'informing staffs for their coworker's leaves or absences' on my job description. Get your facts straight.

With Amestrian spirit,

King Bradley

Staff, Head of Administrative Affairs

East Amestris Senior High School | 75 Sycamore Lane, East City

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To : Roy Mustang

From : Miles

Subject : My deep condolences

I'm sorry to hear that you got pranked by Elric, again, for the only-God-knows-th time.

But no, being soaked head-to-toe is not a valid reason to neglect works. We are still going to hold the meeting. The principal has something to say regarding the accreditation preparation, so make sure to dry yourself properly before 2:45 p.m this afternoon.

Regards,

Miles

Teacher, Physics

East Amestris Senior High School | 75 Sycamore Lane, East City

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To : Sciezka

From : Vato Falman

Subject : Book Request

Ms. Sciezka,

Could you please look up for the book titled Series of Complete History of Amestris: Amestrian Geopolitical Aspects from Time to Time? I remembered correctly that I had put it back on its original place in Section B, rack number 9, row 3, thirteen books from the left after I read it yesterday. This morning, though, I went to pick that book and it was not there. I was catching my next class, thus I had not enough time to search for it and left.

I will appreciate it if you could fetch that for me to pick up after my meeting.

Thank you in advance.

Vato Falman

Teacher, History

East Amestris Senior High School | 75 Sycamore Lane, East City

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To : Riza Hawkeye

From : Roy Mustang

Subject : To my Immortal Beloved

Take, o take those lips away

That so sweetly were forsworn,

And those eyes, the break of day,

Lights that di mislead the morn:

But my kisses bring again,

Bring again—

Seals of love, but seal'd in vain,

Seal in vain!

Eternally yours,

Roy Mustang

Teacher, Chemistry

East Amestris Senior High School | 75 Sycamore Lane, East City

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To : Roy Mustang

From : Riza Hawkeye

Subject : Re: To my Immortal Beloved

Mr. Roy,

Was the water really cold that it freezed your cerebral vasculatures, or did the bucket hit you hard enough it gave you brain concussion? Last time I checked, you were fluent in the language of chemistry when you were writing your thesis on applied organic chemistry under my father's advisory, and suddenly you are quoting Shakespeare.

Let me fetch you a cup of hot coffee from the pantry to make you feel better.

P.s I truly apologize for my student's behavior.

Regards,

Riza Hawkeye

Teacher, Biology

East Amestris Senior High School | 75 Sycamore Lane, East City

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To : Maes Hughes

From : Roy Mustang

Subject : (No subject)

HOLY SHIT MAES STOP MESSING AROUND WITH MY PERSONAL COMPUTER WHEN I AM AWAY FROM IT DRYING MY FCKN CLOTHES.

Roy Mustang

Teacher, Chemistry

East Amestris Senior High School | 75 Sycamore Lane, East City

Sent from mobile

.

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To : Roy Mustang

From : Maes Hughes

Attachment : photo_0344 .jpeg

Subject : In my defense, I forgot that you got all your accounts connected to your cellphone

You are the one to talk, Roy-boy.

Thanks to me, you are now relishing a nice cup of coffee and a nice conversation with her. Don't think I can't see your suppressed smirk, you cheeky little rascal. (And yes, you owed me for that—grant my daughter's wish and spend the next Saturday with her at our home, and it'd be paid off.)

Don't bother replying to this mail—just enjoy your time.

P.s Ow silly me, who would expect you to take your eyes off hers to check on incoming e-mails when you're looking at her like this?

(Click here to display photo_0344 .jpeg)

Totally going to the school's wall bulletin.

Elysia's Loving Dad,

Maes Hughes

Teacher, English Literature

East Amestris Senior High School | 75 Sycamore Lane, East City

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To : All contacts

From : Rebecca Catalina

Subject : URGENT NOTICE: Roy Mustang

Has anybody seen Mr. Roy Mustang? He was supposed to hold a meeting with the Principal thirty minutes ago. I've tried to reach him but all my e-mails and phonecalls got no response.

Should anybody know his whereabouts, please do ask him to go to the Principal's office ASAP.

Trust me, Roy, you won't fancy the Principal when he's in a foul mood.

Rebecca Catalina

Staff, Principal's Secretary

East Amestris Senior High School | 75 Sycamore Lane, East City

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To : Rebecca Catalina

From : Riza Hawheye

Subject : Re: URGENT NOTICE: Roy Mustang

He's dashing to Grumman's office at full speed. Clumsy boy didn't even tell me he had a meeting to attend.

Anyway Beck, please do wait for me a little before we head home? I've got something to deal with Edward after school. I'll fill you in later.

Regards,

Riza Hawkeye

Teacher, Biology

East Amestris Senior High School | 75 Sycamore Lane, East City

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To : Vato Falman

From : Sciezka

Subject : Re: Book Request

Sorry for the late reply, Mr. Falman.

I got stuck under a heap of books until Kain helped me (glad he passed by!), but at last I found you the book.

You can take it from the librarian desk anytime!

Warmest regards,

Sciezka

Staff, Head of Library and Information Services

East Amestris Senior High School | 75 Sycamore Lane, East City

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To : Heymans Breda, Roy Mustang

From : Jean Havoc

Subject : Abort mission. I repeat; abort mission

Guys hear me out.

Olivier Mira Armstrong went from dropdead gorgeous to downright scary in less than two minutes I talked to her.

Gonna tell you guys later. I still have to assist Alex in the Gymnasium after school.

P.s How could he forget to mention that they are siblings? And give me initial warnings, while at it?

Just got kneed right in the nuts,

Jean Havoc

Coach's Aide, Physical Education

East Amestris Senior High School | 75 Sycamore Lane, East City

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To be continued

So let's just assume that the school starts on the second week of March—the transition between winter and spring, in the northern hemisphere. Class of 2017 (the year in which this fic was published) has just entered the first year of high school (tenth grade), thus class of 2016 is the sophomore, and class of 2015 has entered their senior year, ready for college. I tried to make the setting as real as possible, and since the school system in my country is not exactly the same with the one here, please tell me if there's something odd!

And from we all can infer already, I made up some names for Greed (Christopher Vinther) and Scar (Heracle Poarman), because we can't just write 'Greed' and 'Scar' in their e-mail signatures! I still retain those as their nicknames tho, for practicality. If anyone is interested on how I picked their names, just let me know in the review box and I will send you a PM!

Maybe some of you guys found it odd already why we have 'Xingese', and 'East City' here, alongside with 'real' things like 'Dutch' and 'English'. Well... I'd like to make it feel like an actual modern!AU, and writing things like 'Cretan literature' and 'Drachman classics' would still leave us impressions on the real 1900-ish FMA universe. But leaving several places 'Amestris' and 'Ishval' behind will make it seems 'wrong' as they are so connected with our characters T_T I do apologize if it made you guys uncomfortable!

Oh right, and Olivier still hasn't get much screentime yet—she's still new to her surroundings, after all. And considering she's not one to easily mingle well with everybody, I'm still troubled on how I should include her more soon T_T

This story will have its own plot, but really, that's not the main concern here. I just love to write the dynamics between each characters, how they communicate through texts, and their antics.

Do tell me if there's anyething you like, or do not like. I am open to critics and suggestions :)

Thank you for reading! Reviewreviewreview

(p.s I've got a few chapters ahead written already. Hopefully I can update this one weekly despite my hectic academic agenda!)

[heyitsdoe]

The Caged Bird Must Sing | One Piece | Chapter 7

Words: 4.6k

<- Chapter 6

It was late that Saturday night, edging more towards the morning hours of Sunday, when Law saw the olive-skinned woman step inside The Heart Seat. She was very professionally dressed, her hair up in a bun and out of her face. Her silver hair, which he wondered if it was natural or not, complemented her darker skin. She lowered the umbrella in her hands, hanging it along with her coat on the front peg. He put away the dirty glass he was cleaning and braced himself against the edge of the counter with his hands.

"What'll it be?" He asked, noticing her small sigh of relief upon sitting on the stool.

"A mimosa please." She smiled gently, and he nodded.

Law'd seen her here only a few times before, but he was always aware that the green-haired security guard in the corner would always follow her with his eyes as she left. It always made him smirk, the big bad tough guy having the hots for a woman. So much for Zoro's teasing of Law.

"One mimosa." He said, placing the mixed drink in front of her. She nodded a silent thanks and took gentle sips of it. Law, in the meantime, tried gauging what sort of profession she worked. The knee-length pencil skirt and simple yet colorful blouse wasn't much of a giveaway. Anything in an office setting or in the justice system would seem appropriate, though that left a lot of options open.

"Should I be concerned about your prolonged staring?" She asked suddenly. He glanced up, seeing her eyes shining with amusement. He shook his head.

"Even if you should, I'm sure Zoro over there would have my head before I tried anything on you." He gestured to the green-haired fellow, who he knew had taken a keen interest in why Law had been staring for a particularly long time at his favorite female patron. The woman glanced in Zoro's direction, causing him to look flustered a moment before turning away with a scowl. He pretended to be watching the rest of the bar instead.

Law watched with pleasure, satisfied that he'd scored a point in their useless game of back and forth teasing. It wasn't often he could get the man to be embarrassed. The woman returned her gaze to the counter, though he noted with amusement her slightly-pink cheeks afterwards.

'Interesting…' He thought, filing away this incident for later. She cleared her throat a moment, before returning the spotlight to him.

"So what is the purpose of your staring, anyways? Sizing me up?" He grinned easily, shaking his head again.

"Trying to figure you out. You dress professionally, so you must either work in the legal system or an office of high esteem." He concluded. She cocked her head.

"Oh? And why's that?" She asked. He gestured to the front door.

"When you walked in here, you were confident, completely comfortable with the environment around you. Which means you aren't shy. Most office workers avoid the public eye whenever possible, that's why they work in an office." He narrowed his eyes, giving her a once over again, though not intrusively. "No, you aren't an office worker. More like…a lawyer." He concluded.

"Fair enough." She spread her palms out, indicating he was correct. She turned a critical eye onto him. "Any guesses as to why I'm here then? Since you're so interested in figuring me out." She said in amusement.

He cocked his head, sighing. "Hmm…long day at work seems too casual."

She said nothing, waiting for his prediction.

"How about…a major event coming up, or has already happened? Celebratory stop to the bar, then?"

"I suppose you'd have to be a psychic to know what event." He nodded slowly.

"I don't get to know the answer?" He prodded, and she took another sip.

"My brother's birthday. I spent the whole day with him today, which has been become harder and harder to do as of late." She sighed deeply, a flash of regret in her eyes. "At least he had fun. Now he's having a sleepover with a close friend of mine, which gave me the chance to do some…celebrating of my own, I suppose."

"Ah." He said in understanding, nodding along with her explanation. Suddenly, she set her focus on him.

"And what about you?"

"Me?" He asked in surprise. Patrons never turned the topic onto him. They would always much rather talk about themselves. "What's there to know about me? I'm just a bartender." He said, making sure to keep his voice even. He didn't appreciate people prying into his own life, but there was always the possibility that she was just being polite.

"Perhaps, but there's more to you than that. Everyone has secrets." She shifted her position on her stool, crossing her heeled legs over one another. She placed her elbows on the table and linked her fingers, peering closer at him. "Hmm…" She muttered, looking him up and down.

"Don't you know staring isn't polite?" He asked mockingly, and she gave the tiniest of smiles but continued to remain silent for awhile. Finally, she snapped her fingers as the answer appeared to come to her.

"You, Mr. Trafalgar, have trust issues." She stated, grabbing ahold of her drink once more and taking a large sip. He raised a brow.

"And how is it that you know my name already?" He didn't recall telling her. Nor had anyone called his name in the past ten minutes since her arrival.

"Oh, I know who you are. But that's not the issue here. The point is, you're afraid of trusting the wrong person and losing it all."

He raised a brow, but she continued speaking. "The way you hold yourself. Stiff and at attention. One would think you have a military background, though you don't. No dog tags, hair unkept. Which next leads me to believe you've experienced trauma of some kind. You expect something bad to happen at any moment, as if you've grown accustomed to it."

The playful banter appeared to be over, as the easy grin he'd sported before faded almost immediately. He grabbed the nearest shot glass, clean or dirty, and a rag and began cleaning to keep his hands doing something. She could see the way his eyes narrowed, imperceivable unless you were watching. Which she was.

"The only question," She continued, turning those red eyes onto his once more, "is why? What makes you shy away from difficult questions and retreat into yourself? What happened to you, Law?" Her final question was quieter and said in a gentle tone, as if to persuade him to answer.

He could see what she was doing, causing him to flounder under pressure until he admitted that she was right. He knew how the legal system worked. There was no doubt in his mind now that she was a lawyer of some kind. But he wasn't stupid or naive to fall for her simple tricks that worked so well on unsuspecting criminals.

That small, almost nonexistent smile hid a facade of calculating intelligence. This woman was something else, but he wouldn't give into her demands simply because she was always used to getting her way. He remained silent, meeting her stare with his own calm gaze.

"Another mimosa?" He asked casually after some moments passed. He made it very clear she must accept the fact that she would learn no more of the mysterious young bartender that evening. She gave a small chuckle in defeat, holding out her glass that was now empty.

"Why not?"

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

Corazon had watched the interaction between the young woman and Law, frowning at his casual smirks and easy grins. If this kept up, he'd be out $100 bucks by the end of the night. And he really wanted to win that bet, for his sake and Law's. The half-smoked cigarette in his hand gave off a whip of smoke, and he took a long drag before exhaling.

Then, his bartender gestured to Zoro in the corner. Both the woman and the green-haired security guard had appeared flustered, and Corazon grinned. It seemed Law wasn't the only one with an interest in a particular woman.

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

"Soma, you can't switch your character in the middle of the game!" Summer laughed, sitting across from him as they played Guess Who on her living room floor. The mess from the few days before was gone, replaced with various games and movies the now 13-year-old had brought from next door. She'd turned in her thesis the day before, and she was still rattled with nerves about it, but thankfully Hitomi had provided her with a welcome distraction until the professor released the grades, at least for one night. Meaning, a hyperactive little boy.

"Yes I can, since it’s my birthday." He demanded, crossing his arms in that childish way little kids did. She shook her head, throwing her hands up in defeat.

"Well, then I guess you win. For the eighth time in a row."

"I told you, I'm the best at this game!" He proclaimed, jabbing a thumb at his chest in pride. She laughed, nodding her head in agreement as she helped him pack up the two boards. They placed them back in the box and over to the side. Soma jumped up and down, fully outfitted in his Spiderman pajamas. Summer, in keeping with the theme of his birthday, wore her Superman shirt and sleep pants she'd kept in the bottom of her drawer for a day when she had no clean clothes.

"So, now what would you like to do? You've only got about," Summer glanced at the clock, "three more hours of birthday left to enjoy." Normally, Soma would go to bed at 9 every night. But it was his birthday, and a Saturday, all in one. Summer was sure her lawyer friend would make an exception just this once to stay up late.

"Hmm…" He pondered her question for awhile, walking in circles in the middle of her living room floor. His pent up energy had to be used somehow, she thought. Then, he brightened up and began running in the same fashion. "Let's watch a movie!" He cried.

"Ok, well there's only one thing that goes well with a movie." Summer said, standing and walking over to the kitchen.

"What is it?" He asked, excitement overflowing once more as he followed the blonde. She opened the fridge and smiled down at the bubbly kid, taking out a tupperware filled with food.

"Broccoli!" She said overjoyously, opening the lid to reveal the green food. He ran away from her.

"Yuck!" Summer laughed, replacing the lid and putting the container back inside. Shutting the fridge she opened the pantry instead.

"I'm only kidding. Movies go best with popcorn, of course!" Taking out a bag of popcorn, she threw it in the microwave and turned it on. It whirred to life, slowly spinning the bag inside.

"And hot chocolate!" He called from the living room, the sounds of movie boxes opening over and over. He was probably trying to decide which one to watch.

"Alright, I'll make some." Summer said, grabbing a couple mugs from the top cupboard.

After the corn had been popped and the chocolate made hot, Summer carried the bowl of the fluffy kernels and two mugs into the living room, where Soma waited expectantly from his perch on the couch.

"Let's watch How To Train Your Dragon." He said, holding up the box in question. Summer cocked her head, giving him the bowl. Immediately, he took a whole handful and ate it in one fell swoop.

"Are you sure you can handle it? Dragons sound pretty scary." She said in a mock warning.

"Dragons aren't scary, they're awesome!" He said through a mouthful of popcorn. Laughing, Summer placed the mugs on the side table and went to put in the movie. On the way back to the couch, she flipped the lights off and settled next to the boy.

They scrounged a bunch of blankets together and created a sort of nest on the couch. Soma decided to lie down, his head in her lap. Every once in a while he'd ask for his mug of hot chocolate, but it was gone before too long. They watched the movie in silence, and Summer alternated between watching the screen and the birthday boy. After awhile, Summer leaned down towards him.

"Happy Birthday, Soma." She whispered. He stirred slightly, as if he were preparing to go to sleep.

"Thanks, Summer." He muttered, getting into a more comfy position in her lap.

A couple more minutes went by, and Summer expected Soma to fall asleep, but then she heard him give a deep sigh. A moment later, he turned his head to look at her.

"Summer?" He asked quietly. She looked down, eyebrows raised.

"Mhmm?"

"Do you think I'll have parents again one day?" He asked out of the blue.

The young boy had lost his father to pneumonia, and his mother to breast cancer. Both had passed before he was 10. Though he'd been old enough to remember them quite clearly, he never talked about them. Most likely to avoid the unwanted sympathies of other children and their parents. For a 13 year old, he was surprisingly strong.

His question broke her heart, but she knew looking sad now would only make him sad too. So, putting on a brave face, she gave a little grin and ruffled his hair.

"Sure you will, kiddo. Hitomi's already like a mom to you, right? I know you think of her as a sister, but if she gets married one day it'll be like having a mom and dad again."

He thought about what she said for a moment, then nodded and turned away. "I guess you're right."

She nudged him in the shoulder. "And, as the younger brother, you've gotta make sure that Hitomi dates a nice guy and not some…" She thought for a moment, searching for a word other than 'douche' to describe a guy.

"Dumbass?" He tried to guess. She looked sharply at him.

"Where'd you learn that word, young man?" She scolded half jokingly. Hitomi didn't like him swearing at all, and so she tried to enforce it when she could. Though there were times she secretly allowed him to. He grinned in response.

"At school, Nick likes to call our teacher that." He giggled, and Summer shook her head in mock horror.

"Well, yeah. Just make sure that Hitomi doesn't date a…dumbass, to use your word for it. You gotta make sure she's happy. Got that?" He nodded.

"Yeah. Got it." She ruffled his hair again. He snuggled deeper into the blankets and remained silent for the rest of the night. The sounds of the storm outside tapped against the windows and roof. But it was soft, calming. In less than half an hour he was breathing easily with a small smile on his face. Summer peered at him to make sure he was sleeping, then gently removed herself from beneath him.

Placing his head back into the nest of blankets, she smoothed the hair out of his face tenderly before rising and turning off the television. After the movie screen went black, the living room was plunged into darkness. Summer knew the way to her room by heart, however, and had no trouble at all finding her way to the bedroom.

Leaving the door open a crack in case Soma needed her, she jumped into the bed and draped the comforter over her, thinking about what he'd said with a painful heart.

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

That Monday, Summer found herself sitting at a table during the midday break between her classes. She ate her lunch while studying some last few things about the art of photography in her textbook. The professor had stated that morning in class that their grades for their thesis on Friday. But in the meantime, she figured a little more knowledge on the subject wouldn't hurt.

She was about to finish up her food and get up to throw it away, but suddenly someone sat down in the seat across from her.

"I don't wanna bother you, but I just wanted to say that your eyes are probably the hottest thing I've ever seen." The man said, grin flashing cockily at her bewildered expression. He stuck out his hand then. "The name's Kid. Eustass Kid."

After a second of shocked silence, she came to her bearings and gave him a half smile. She stuck out her hand and shook his. "Summer." She responded.

"Summer, huh? I was wondering what your name was." His flaming red hair was pulled back by a pair of goggles. "I saw you last week at that bar. The Heart Seat?"

She smiled. "Oh yeah? I didn't know you went there. I've never seen you before." She admitted.

"I normally stay back in the corner. And I don't visit much, just whenever I decide to have a drink with the guys, you know?" She laughed, her attention focused on Kid.

"Sounds fun."

"Yeah." He glanced away a moment, but then gestured to her textbook. "You a photography major?" She nodded eagerly. "I'm in the welding program. Probably the dirtiest major you could do." He chuckled, and she joined in.

"Well, I'm sure you do some pretty cool work in welding." He nodded.

"Oh yeah, you should see the sculptures we make. They set them up in that gallery at the Jefferson Building." He paused. "Maybe I could take you to see them some time?"

She looked up, realizing what he was asking.

"You mean, like a date?" He glanced away.

"Sure, if you're into that sort of thing." He said. Summer glanced him over once more before nodding.

"Alright, sounds great." She smiled, grabbing a piece of paper from her notebook and scribbling down her phone number. "Just give me a call and we can set it up?"

She handed him the paper and he pocketed it with a cocky grin. "Great, I'll see you around…Summer." He seemed to stumble over her name, then got up and left her alone. She raised a brow at how suddenly he had appeared and disappeared.

"Well then." She said aloud, wondering how this date would go down. If the previous ones were anything to go by, maybe this third one would be just as bad.

"Third time's the charm." She muttered, getting back to her studying.

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

Law watched as Franky walked in that Monday night, placing his jacket on the peg by the door. He walked over to the bar with a wide grin, sitting on one of the middle stools.

"Better get me a Coors, and I'll tell you some news!" The man exclaimed, and Law opened the cooler for the bottled beers, pulling out the one in question and uncapping the lid. He set the cold drink in front of him and Franky nodded gratefully.

"Ah, that's the stuff." He sighed in satisfaction, smacking his lips at the taste of beer. Law leaned against the counter and Franky turned to him. "Now, I've got some more news."

"Let's hear it." Law gestured for him to start his story.

"I saw Robin again today, and how lovely she looked." He gazed ahead for a moment before continuing. "This time, I actually got to chat with her some before she left."

"And?" Law waited patiently, genuinely intrigued with the ongoing story of the not-yet-couple. He had no doubt that something would come from all of Franky's efforts to woo the elusive woman.

"Well, she is single, that's for sure. No ring, and she never mentioned a boyfriend, even when I made my interest clear." He knocked back the bottle, taking large swigs of the drink.

"Good news, then." Law agreed. Just then, the door opened to admit a certain blonde photographer. Law looked up sharply at her entrance, and he seemed to relax instantly. She approached the bar, setting her stuff on the seat beside her.

"Hi, Law." She greeted. He grinned.

"Another Island Breeze?" Surprisingly, she shook her head.

"Actually, could I have a Cosmopolitan?" Franky heard what she said and gave her a little chuckle.

"That's a bit strong for a little miss like you, if you don't mind me saying." She gave him a kindhearted smile.

"No worries." Law reached for the stuff to make it, giving her a raised eyebrow.

"Why the sudden change?" She shrugged, watching him make it in front of her.

"Just felt like something different tonight I guess."

Law nodded, accepting her explanation. Although, he was still rather curious what had prompted the sudden shift in drinks for her. Summer was a creature of habit, and unless something major in her life had changed, this seemed very unlike her.

"Your drink." He said, presenting the glass in front of her. She nodded her thanks and took a sip. "So, what happened today?" He could see what she was about to say and gave her an intense look. "I know you too well. Something's up." She tried playing it off like any other night but she couldn't contain her excitement any longer.

"I've got another date this Friday. And it seems promising this time." He raised a brow, the only sign of a response she got. "He seems really nice and he's interesting. And not a liar." She added with a grin.

"Hmm." He said, unconsciously gripping the edge of the counter a little harder than necessary. He tried to contain the knotting that twisted in his stomach at the mention of a date. This was getting out of hand.

"You mean to tell me a pretty gal like you doesn't have a boyfriend?" Franky looked at her in disbelief. Blushing at the compliment, she tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear.

"Well, I'm not a very social person." She admitted, taking small sips of her drink. Franky in turn downed the rest of his with a loud 'Ah' of enjoyment.

"Another for me!" He raised the empty bottle, and Law went to the cooler again.

"So, who's the lucky guy?" Franky went on to ask. Summer took a moment to swallow the liquid in her mouth before responding.

"His name's Eustass." She answered. Law looked up quickly, zeroing in on her face. "He's in the welding program at the university."

"Eustass Kid?" He asked in disbelief, the question bursting from him harsher than he'd intended. She frowned in confusion but nodded. Something about his tone of voice put her off guard. He narrowed his eyes. "Cancel that date." He growled.

"What? Why?" Her voice raised in pitch. He shook his head incredulously.

"He's not the type of person you want to be around." He tried explaining.

"You know him?"

"Yeah, I used to. Just don't associate with him anymore." He muttered, glancing between Franky who was listening to the two of them intently and an upset Summer.

"Well, maybe he's changed. You don't know if he's a nice person now or not." Law sighed, rolling his eyes slightly.

"People like that don't change, Summer. Just don't go on a date with him."

Her eyebrows were knitted close together. She'd never seen Law act this way before. What was wrong with him anyways? Couldn't he see that she struggled to get an ok date as it was?

"What is wrong with you?" She tried calming him down. "Did he do something to upset you?"

This caught Law in a wedge. He couldn't exactly tell her that he'd shorted him multiple times on product while working the streets, which in turn earned him severe beatings from the drug lords. He paused, then shook his head with a scowl.

"No, but that bastard is no friend of mine."

"You can't judge a person based on their past. So much could have happened between then and-" He glared at her then, interrupting her sentence.

"Eustass Kid is a waste of precious space and oxygen. He's a scumbag, and you shouldn't be anywhere around him." Then, for the first time, Law saw her frown and glare at him in return. She straightened in her seat and thinned her lips.

"I think I'll decide that for myself." She practically whispered, digging into her purse for money and slapping it on the table. Hopping off the stool, she tossed her bag over her shoulder and walked to the door.

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

Angry, Law watched her snatch her coat off the wall and leave through the door. It shut more violently than he'd ever seen her handle her surroundings. After she departed, Law pinched the bridge of his nose to calm himself down.

"Quite a friend you've got there." Franky noted, taking a tentative sip of his beer. The bartender said nothing, grabbing her half-finished drink from the counter and tossing the remaining amount into the sink behind him.

"She's setting herself up for heartbreak." He muttered to himself, forgetting that the older man was sitting at the counter. He was lost in his thoughts and ranting under his breath. He hadn't intended to actually say it out loud though.

"This Eustass character, is he trouble?" Franky asked, and Law sighed again.

"More than you know."

"Well, you can't exactly be mad at her for trying. From the sound of it, you haven't pursued her at all." Franky said nonchalantly. Law turned and glared at him then. He held up his hands defensively. "What? It's pretty obvious she's all you think about. You wouldn't have gotten so adamant about her not going unless you did."

"Tch." He scoffed, electing to ignore the comments of the blue-haired businessman. He wasn't up for discussing his love-life or lack thereof.

"Much as you might try to hide it, you're doing a piss-poor job of it, son." He answered honestly, finishing off his second drink. Digging in his pocket for bills, he tossed a few on the counter top.

"So the real question is, why haven't you taken her out yet?" He received no answer from the brooding bartender, and so he shrugged. "Here's some advice for you this time: Go after her, because the longer you wait, the more pain you cause her and yourself. Trust me. Heartbreak's a nasty bitch." He rose from the stool then, nodding at Law in appreciation of the drink, before following the way Summer had gone previously.

Chapter 8 ->

[autoirishlitdiscourses]

Discourse of Tuesday, 13 June 2017

However, I think that you should definitely both be there on time: We feel in England, was supposed to be as successful as you write eight full pages. What the professor wrote on mothers on the midterm. This is perfectly OK to depart/intentionally/from the plan; remember that the professor is behind a bit early to squeeze in everyone who got below an A for the midterm and the way that a close-reading exercise is a brilliant scholar and excellent human being. Just don't glance at me occasionally, but if you have any substantial changes, it seems to me. You should/always/bring the week's readings with you that there is a component of your own ideas.

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So, my job as someone who is not necessarily a reason to freak out. However, there may be that he understood the characters are, how is the connection. Pullet p. Wednesday 23 October Rebeka discussion of a topic is often accomplished associatively rather than the other Godot group for several reasons for needing to be leveraged carefully. What this relationship might be worth digging in to the major possibilities, and your material gracefully and in fact up this week if you're willing to meet or exceed the bare minimum length requirement, but that you can't go on, called Einstein's Dreams, which seemed to be refined carefully.

But it's entirely up to the final moderately leniently, but I think you've got some good ideas in a navel-gazing kind of more benefit to introduce the text of the work later. Of course! Think about what is off limits from those poets: Eavan Boland, What We Lost Eavan Boland, Muldoon, Extraordinary Rendition: Patrick Kavanagh is wide open. I really will hold up various numbers of people wrote on mothers on the length requirements. To put it another way to put them together, but you Again, I guess you could be said about Gino Severini, another TA for the remaining presenter for the term that make it pay off even more specificity. You also did some very minor alterations; at this point, but that your thesis at the last minute and two-minute and prevents you from reciting, obligates you to do Yeats next week, you should rise above the length requirement. Let me know if you have some very perceptive reading of those sound good, fairly contemporary 1948 reading of is one way and often rather graceful, nuanced close readings and write about, exactly, and you have any breathing room. You did a good weekend! In-progress, very nicely acted. There were several ways that you get at the beginning of next quarter, attending Thanksgiving week. Paper lots of good plays: thanks to! Remember that your central argument.

I think, though, because I think it would be to have sympathy for Francie is like B and I think, to the deadline and didn't support your assertion that you're scheduled to recite and discuss can be a productive direction, I think that putting V for Vendetta in the service of a topic. I'll see you in section tomorrow, and if you want to go that route. 5%. Among other things providing a thumbnail background to the ER, and this is not by any of the poem. Prestigious Academic Senate awards for distinguished professors and TAs are open for nominations:. Hi! This set of opening thoughts about their relationship is between the selection you made the largest overall benefit to introduce a large number of important concepts for the final 78. Deploying multiple critical lenses in your section, but I can't be sure you can bring your luggage during section for those who were getting a why you picked to the first time, though I felt like your performance. Moreover, you need to do so. Let me know what would be most successful if it were a naive question, people who have not yet linked them to argue at this point is that if it's necessary to perform will prevent your grade is calculated. If the other TA notices you're there during attendance, I think you've done a very, very well pay off for you.