#harvard school of architecture

[grungeouttakesabstracts]

Nighttime bike rack, Harvard School of Architecture

Cambridge, Massachusetts -- 3/20/14

[primeviewprathamesh]

Harvard University: An Empire in Itself!

[maewphoria]

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⌗⠀양정원⠀⠀CAT⠀DISTRIBUTION⠀SYSTEM⠀꒰⠀PT.4⠀꒱

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SYNOPSIS⠀.⠀.⠀.⠀starting college in a new city, you’re settling into your apartment and trying to make it feel like home. on your first day, a fluffy calico cat appears on your neighbor's balcony, jumping towards yours as if to greet you, stealing your heart instantly. but when a voice calls out for the cat from the next balcony, panic sets in—you rush back inside, too shy to meet your new neighbor. that neighbor turns out to be yang jungwon, a fellow student in the same university who’s also new in town. thanks to his mischievous and adventurous cat, the two of you keep running into each other in the most unexpected ways. a friendship blossoms, slowly turning into something deeper—though jungwon keeps insisting it’s nothing more than friendship. as feelings grow stronger, the question remains: will their bond turn into something more—or remain just a college memory?

pairing⠀.⠀.⠀.⠀college student!yang jungwon x college student!f.reader. featuring⠀.⠀.⠀.⠀all enhypen members, le sserafim yunjin, kazuha, and chaewon, aespa winter and karina (soon). word count⠀.⠀.⠀.⠀13.562k genre⠀.⠀.⠀.⠀sfw, fluff, angst if you squint, kinda slow burn, college life, university life, slice of life, comedy (although i don't find myself funny), friendships, relationships, and the cat distribution system. (it has chosen you and gave you two lovely cats.) warnings⠀.⠀.⠀.⠀drinking alcohol, parties, getting drunk (obviously), misunderstandings, jealousy, denial (jungwon is in denial), cowardice behaviour (jungwon is also a coward), lots of flirting and tension, cat keeps breaking into your apartment, kissing, skinship, reader (aka us) is very delusional and does a lot of overthinking, a bit cringe (i think it's cringe bcs i wrote it), and might contain suggestive content in the later parts that are yet to be posted. lowercase letters intended. very proofread. tell me if i'm missing anything. mæw's notes⠀.⠀.⠀.⠀hi guys! pt.4 is finally out! please enjoy! i kinda had a hard time writing pt.4 because i don’t really know what it’s like to study at a university abroad. i had to do some research on schools like harvard and ucla, and i found out they have over 100 buildings—like wtf? so i ended up creating my own university from scratch, added courses, building names, and all that. i just hope it’s somewhat close to how it is in real life. likes, reblogs, and comments are highly appreciated.

library⠀.⠀.⠀.⠀part one. part two. part three.

#⠀OO5⠀:⠀WRONG TURNS AND REGRETS.

it had been three weeks since the welcoming party for the architecture students—an event you had somehow, miraculously, survived despite being a business ad major who had absolutely no business being there in the first place. yet the mystery gnawed at you still: how, exactly, had you gotten home that night?

for days, you pestered your friends for answers, clinging onto the hope that someone, anyone, might remember. but their confusion only mirrored your own. none of them knew how they had returned either.

they had all woken up already sprawled in their own dormitory as if placed there by invisible hands.

yunjin and kazuha were tangled together in a half-conscious cuddle on the living room carpet, while chaewon had managed to claim the entirety of the sofa for herself, mouth slightly agape, a small snore escaping every few breaths.

their recollections aligned eerily with yours—except for the part where you woke up tucked neatly in your own room.

your cropped crochet open-knit bolero was gone from your shoulders, folded neatly atop your bedside table. left behind was just your black spaghetti strap crop top, the hem riding a little too high up your stomach because of how deep your sleep was, and your shoes and socks resting side by side on the floor.

the scene was unsettlingly familiar, like déjà vu reaching out and tapping you on the shoulder. it reminded you of that night, just two nights before, when jungwon had helped your drunken self wobble back home with both patience and grace.

perhaps, maybe, it was jungwon once again.

except—you hadn't properly spoken to him since that afternoon when he had helped you carry and move your furniture into your new apartment.

he hadn’t even messaged, save for that polite "you're welcome" he sent, replying to your thank you message the morning before the party, a message so brief yet so final it almost stung. you didn’t even know if he had attended the party.

you and your friends obsessed over the mystery for a few more days, exchanging theories that grew more ridiculous with each retelling, until eventually the puzzle pieces were abandoned, scattered into the corners of your minds. life simply moved on.

your days resumed their steady, predictable rhythm.

yami would occasionally grace your apartment with her presence, weaving between your legs and purring like she owned the place.

you also dedicated yourself to preparing for the impending start of classes, assembling supplies and adjusting to the small, adult routines of calling your parents, updating them on your well-being and pretending everything was under perfect control.

you often found yourself heading down to the lobby to collect yet another delivery or two—nothing screamed adulthood like ordering a random cat mug at 2am. you ran errands with your friends, laughing over the ridiculous list of essentials you somehow convinced yourselves were necessary for survival.

yet despite all the activity, one thing remained absent: jungwon.

not a glimpse. not even a fleeting shadow at the end of the corridor. despite living on the same floor, breathing the same recycled air of the building, he remained conspicuously missing.

you told yourself it was simply bad timing. maybe he was busy, after all, school was only a week away, and the looming pressure was starting to make even the calmest of students a little erratic.

yunjin, in particular, had turned into a delightful hurricane of stress, insisting she didn't have enough materials even as her arms overflowed with sketchbooks, pencils, and highlighters of every conceivable color.

you, chaewon, and kazuha simply watched her spin through the aisles of the school and art supplies store, your expressions a perfect blend of concern and secondhand embarrassment.

"she must be excited," the three of you thought in unison, exchanging knowing glances as yunjin bolted toward yet another aisle like a woman possessed, clutching a sixth sketchpad to her chest.

the last week of the month slipped through your fingers like water, and before you could truly brace yourself, it was already the morning of your first day, orientation and tour day.

now you stood frozen in front of your closet, eyes darting from hanger to hanger, as if the right outfit might magically materialize if you stared long enough.

nerves twisted in your stomach.

you were nervous—nervous that you might get lost on campus despite yunjin thoughtfully printing out campus maps for all of you, highlighting routes and buildings like a seasoned tour guide.

nervous that you might embarrass yourself, trip over nothing, mispronounce a professor’s name, or somehow make such a terrible first impression that your professors would loathe you on sight (spoiler: they wouldn’t).

but above all else, you were nervous because, even though your friends were attending the same university, they were scattered across different programs and faculties. for the first time in one month, you were truly on your own.

after what felt like an eternity of agonizing, you finally chose your outfit—something comfortable yet respectable—and swiftly packed your tote bag with every essential you could think of: a notebook, a pen, your wallet, a mini hand sanitizer, a spare charger, tissues, your mini make up bag, and a quiet hope that you wouldn’t cry in public.

you quickly ran a brush through your hair, trying to tame the chaos, then hurried out of your apartment, juggling the strap of your bag over your shoulder as you half-sprinted toward the elevators.

as you rounded the corner, a familiar figure came into view—jungwon.

your heart skipped a beat, a flash of relief blooming in your chest. instinctively, you called out to him, voice light with the kind of casual friendliness you reserved for someone you were hoping to bump into.

he looked up, his eyes locking onto yours—and for a split second, something unreadable flickered across his face.

but then, just as you reached out your hand as if to tell him to stop the elevator doors from closing. despite seeing you, jungwon did the unthinkable.

he let the elevator doors close.

right. in. front. of. you.

you stood there, blinking at the now shut metallic doors, your hand still slightly raised in midair, feeling like you had just been personally victimized by the universe.

“what the fuck was that about?” you muttered under your breath, pressing the elevator button with a bit more force than necessary, your mind racing through every possible explanation, none of which made any sense.

meanwhile, inside the descending elevator, jungwon was a whirlwind of self-inflicted misery.

he leaned his forehead against the cool metal wall, lightly banging it once, twice, before dragging his hand through his hair in pure frustration.

“fuck,” he hissed to no one in particular.

he could still see it—the exact expression you had given him through the narrowing gap of the doors. you had looked so... betrayed. and annoyed.

so wonderfully, vividly pretty despite the negative emotions plastered on your face.

this was the first time he had ever seen you wear that expression, and somehow, it managed to stab him right in the chest despite only knowing you for a month.

he wished he could rewind time, shove his foot between the doors and do anything but what he had just done. but deep down, he knew that even if he had stopped the doors, the air between you would have been thick with something worse than awkwardness.

because the truth was, jungwon had been avoiding you. deliberately.

and the worst part? you didn’t even know why.

technically, you had done something. but you were so devastatingly drunk that night, you couldn’t possibly remember it—and jungwon wasn’t planning on telling you, not now, not ever.

not if he could help it.

he let out a heavy sigh, a sound full of regret, and stepped out of the elevator, shoulders slightly hunched as if he could physically shrink away from the guilt clinging to him. he barely made it out of the apartment building when a voice cut sharply through the air, halting him in his tracks.

“jungwon!”

he gasped audibly, body stiffening like a startled cat. he knew that voice—knew it down to the very marrow of his bones.

he didn’t want to turn around. every instinct screamed at him to keep walking, to pretend he hadn’t heard. but guilt is a heavy thing, and it anchored his feet to the ground.

reluctantly, jungwon turned.

and instantly wished he hadn’t.

there you were, standing not far from him, brows knitted together in pure exasperation, confusion swirling in your eyes, and—worst of all—a tiny glint of hurt buried beneath it all.

he felt the ground tilt beneath him.

“h-hey, y/n…” he stammered, voice pitching higher than he intended, forcing an awkward chuckle out in a weak attempt to appear casual.

you raised a single, unimpressed eyebrow, the kind of expression that could slice a man’s ego clean in half. then, with deliberate steps, you closed the distance between you.

jungwon froze again, practically forgetting how to breathe as you stopped right in front of him, arms folding across your chest in a perfect display of judgment.

“earlier. at the elevator,” you said, your tone flat, leaving no room for misunderstanding. “what the hell was that about?”

your bluntness struck him like a slap, and he scrambled internally for an answer that would save him. his eyes darted everywhere—from the pavement to a passing bird to an invisible point in the sky—anywhere but your face.

for a brief moment, his brain offered him nothing but static. then, like a merciful flick of fate, an idea sparked.

“i—i misjudged!” he blurted out, straightening up a little, trying to sound convincing. “i thought you weren’t going to make it to the elevator in time!”

he mentally patted himself on the back for that one, almost proud of the quick recovery.

but you weren’t buying it.

you narrowed your eyes at him, your frown deepening. “i could’ve made it. easily. if you hadn’t just stood there like a damn npc and let the doors close.”

jungwon winced, the truth of your words hitting harder than he cared to admit.

“oh… right,” he muttered, suddenly finding the cracks on the sidewalk incredibly interesting. he shuffled his feet, searching desperately for an escape hatch, but it was obvious—he was trapped. there would be no running from this confrontation.

so, he went for the simplest, oldest trick in the book: sincerity (and his looks).

“i’m sorry, y/n,” he said, lifting his head to meet your gaze with the most devastatingly apologetic look he could summon. his big, round eyes practically screamed forgiveness, the corners of his lips tugging down in a perfect portrait of remorse.

and it worked. he saw it—the moment your defenses cracked, a twitch of a smile betraying you.

jungwon seized his opportunity like a man who had been offered a pardon.

“then—goodbye, y/n! see you around!” he chirped brightly, spinning on his heel and sprinting away like a guilty cartoon character.

you blinked, stunned into silence, watching his retreating figure with growing disbelief. it took your brain several long, painful seconds to reboot, short-circuiting somewhere between ‘he looks so cute!’ and ‘wait, did he just run away?’

“hey! wait, we’re going in the same direction!” you called out, but it was too late. jungwon was already halfway down the street, pretending not to hear you.

you stood there, blinking dumbly after him, utterly bewildered by what had just transpired.

you exhaled through your nose, trying to calm your nerves, and pulled out your phone with a resigned sigh. you booked yourself an uber—because clearly, walking in the same direction as jungwon was not on today's agenda.

as if sensing your gaze still somewhere near him, jungwon abruptly veered off to another street, almost comically dramatic with the way he ducked his head and hurried his steps, clearly trying to escape your line of sight.

pathetic. dramatic. suspiciously fast. definitely guilty.

meanwhile, in his small spiral of panic, jungwon fumbled with his phone, his thumbs moving in a frenzy as he typed out a message to riki.

jungwon: where r u. pick me up. now.

but before he could even finish cursing under his breath, riki’s familiar car came to a stop right in front of him, its timing almost poetic.

the passenger-side window rolled down with a mechanical hum, revealing sunoo, who stared at him with an expression that perfectly blended confusion and secondhand embarrassment.

“yo, you look like you just got chased by a ghost,” sunoo said flatly, squinting at jungwon’s slightly sweaty forehead and thoroughly ruffled hair. “or, like, karma.”

jungwon rolled his eyes with a dramatic groan, not even trying to explain himself as he yanked open the back door.

“long story,” he muttered, flopping into the seat like a man who had just survived a war—an emotional war, perhaps, but a war nonetheless.

riki, in the driver's seat and already smirking, glanced at him through the rearview mirror. “good. we’ve got time,” he quipped, clearly eager for some tea.

jungwon waved a hand weakly in the air, “just drive,” he muttered. “we’ll be late.”

riki turned to sunoo with a knowing look. sunoo shrugged, as if to say ‘don’t look at me’, and riki shrugged right back. without further protest, he shifted gears and pulled out of the street, the car humming softly as they began the drive to campus.

jungwon leaned his head back against the seat, shutting his eyes. he could still see your face—your expression when you caught him ditching you at the elevator, the betrayal in your eyes, the sheer ‘what the hell’ radiating off you like heat.

and worse, he could still hear the echo of your voice: “we’re going in the same direction!”

tragically… you were right.

you, on the other hand, had already slipped into the back seat of your uber, the cool leather offering a small comfort as the city passed by in a blur. the ride was quiet—your driver occasionally humming along to the radio while you stared out the window, half-lost in your thoughts. within minutes, the car pulled up to your destination.

there it was. your university. grand horizon university. standing tall and proud, like an academic kingdom with gates flung wide open, welcoming—and slightly overwhelming—its new citizens.

students swarmed the entrance like ants on a sugar cube. some were poring over crumpled maps with puzzled brows, others paced in small circles while mumbling to themselves. a few brave souls had resorted to asking complete strangers where to go, and many had approached the campus security guards like weary travelers begging for directions to the nearest oasis.

you reached into your tote, pulled out your phone, and snapped a quick photo of the chaos—a little memento of your first day. the picture captured the mix of excitement and confusion around you, and you sent it to your group chat with a quick message:

you: i’ve arrived. front gate. help before i disappear into the crowd.

you were just about to scroll idly when you felt a sudden presence behind you—followed by familiar squeals and arms flinging around your shoulders.

“boo!” yunjin’s voice rang in your ear, immediately followed by kazuha and chaewon joining in on the ambush, their smiles wide, their energy contagious.

you spun around, pretending to scowl but unable to stop the grin tugging at your lips. you hugged them all back, your nerves easing just a little with the comfort of familiar faces.

“you could’ve warned me,” you muttered with faux irritation, brushing your hair back.

“where’s the fun in that?” kazuha smirked.

together, the four of you started walking toward the main entrance towards the main building in the middle of the university, your chatter bouncing lightly between you, an easy mix of nervous laughter and unfiltered panic.

“okay but like... are we ready?” chaewon asked, adjusting her strap bag anxiously.

“mentally? no. emotionally? also no. physically? barely.” yunjin replied, flailing her arms dramatically. “but spiritually? absolutely not.”

you all laughed, and for a moment, the tension melted. but as soon as the university doors opened, the noise hit you like a wave.

inside was just as chaotic—if not worse—than outside. students were huddled around bulletin boards, craning their necks and squinting as they tried to decipher lists of names, classroom codes, building numbers and names, and professor names that sounded made-up.

you weaved through the crowd with your friends and finally found your schedules, each of you staring on your copies of the campus map.

and then came the collective groan.

“ugh! why does this university have to look like a whole freaking village?” yunjin cried, clutching her map like it had betrayed her.

“tell me about it,” kazuha added, staring at her map like it might rearrange the buildings if she blinked hard enough. “i swear, i’m about to rent an electric scooter. or a horse.”

“why,” you said slowly, squinting at the map, “does this university have two hundred and thirty buildings?”

they both turned to pat your shoulders in silent solidarity, as if sharing the same academic tragedy. you sighed dramatically, already feeling the weight of your future footsteps.

you all then looked at chaewon, silently praying she had it just as bad.

she glanced at her schedule and gave a sheepish shrug. “mine’s kinda near... but also not? like, it’s not far-far but it’s not close either.”

you, yunjin, and kazuha groaned in unison before rolling your eyes and playfully turning your backs on her, walking away as if she had betrayed the sisterhood.

“rude!” chaewon called after you three with a laugh, instantly chasing after you with quick steps, and soon enough, you were all walking again, side by side, navigating the labyrinth together.

“good thing we only have orientations and campus tours today. if we had actual classes right now, we’d probably be buried under a pile of wrong turns and regrets,” you said, half-laughing as you glanced down at your phone.

you tapped a quick message to your parents—‘i made it to school safely’—along with a photo of the university gate for good measure. your mom had already sent three heart emojis and a good luck gif. classic.

with that done, you turned your attention back to the ever-confusing campus map that you folded and tucked between your fingers, just behind your phone earlier.

“okay, so right now we’re at aurora hall,” you began, squinting at the tiny lines and icons. “and i need to get to the south part of campus.”

your words caught everyone’s attention. three heads immediately leaned over your shoulder, eyes narrowing like detectives over a case file.

“wait—you’re going to the south campus too?” yunjin asked, pointing at the lower quadrant of your map. “what building?”

you tilted your map toward her while pointing at the building. “the vanguard business hall. apparently that’s the main building for business admin majors.”

as soon as the words left your mouth, the excitement erupted.

“no way, i’m headed there too!” yunjin gasped, then quickly clarified. “well, not there—i’ve got architecture at arcadia studios, but it’s in the same area.”

“me too,” kazuha chimed in, flashing a grin. “grand horizon performing arts center. sounds dramatic. fitting, right?”

chaewon raised her hand like she was in class. “silver screen studios for film and tv. also south campus.”

and just like that, a burst of collective relief washed over the group. you all let out a synchronized squeal, followed by a group hug that was slightly chaotic and entirely uncoordinated. still, it felt good—like the universe had decided to bless you today.

at least for the trip to south campus, you wouldn't be alone.

“okay, transportation,” chaewon said, already back in planner mode. “should we rent e-bikes or ride the shuttle buses?”

you all looked down at the map again, tracing little lines between buildings, searching for the nearest shuttle stops and rental stations.

“e-bikes sound cute in theory,” yunjin mused, “but we’d probably end up somewhere in a forbidden faculty zone and get expelled before day two.”

“true,” you said, nodding. “let’s not risk accidental trespassing just yet.”

the group collectively agreed: shuttle bus it was.soon enough, you were all sprinting through the university corridors like you were in a slice-of-life anime opening sequence. wind in your hair, laughter echoing behind you, dodging slow walkers like pros, and somehow managing to arrive at the shuttle bus station just in time.

the vehicle hissed to a halt as students boarded one by one, and the four of you squeezed into the middle row, still catching your breath and trying to act like you weren’t about to melt from the sprint.

as the bus rolled forward, it passed through winding lanes, landscaped gardens, and sleek buildings that shimmered beneath the sun. the driver, with a calm voice and an obvious love for punctuality, announced each stop clearly through the overhead speaker:

“silver screen studios.”

“grand horizon performing arts center.”

“arcadia studios.”

one by one, your friends got off. chaewon first, waving enthusiastically. then kazuha, who gave a little spin before hopping off, dramatically clutching her schedule like a script. yunjin followed next, shooting you a thumbs up as if to say ‘you’ve got this’.

and finally, it was your turn.you stood, your tote slung over your shoulder, and stepped off with the others headed toward the vanguard business hall—a part of the sprawling college of business and management complex.

as your shoes hit the pavement, you took a deep breath. this was it. your first real step into university life.

then, you looked up at the towering structure before you, your breath hitching slightly in awe.

the vanguard business hall stood like a monument to ambition—ten stories high, cloaked in sleek panels of silver and glass that shimmered beneath the morning light. its clean lines and polished finish gave it the kind of sharp sophistication that whispered, ‘only the bold survive here’. it was the kind of building that didn’t just exist—it announced itself.

for a moment, you stood at the base of it, tilting your head all the way back just to take it in, as if you were trying to absorb some of its power through sheer admiration. you could almost hear it taunting you, daring you to prove you belonged here.

you exhaled softly and squared your shoulders, adjusting the strap of your bag as if it might suddenly make you feel more grown-up, more prepared.

then you quietly muttered under your breath, a little pep talk to yourself, “okay... good luck, me.”

and with that final whisper of hope and bravado, you stepped forward and pushed open the glass doors—walking into the future with all the courage, curiosity, and slightly faked confidence you could muster.

just a few minutes earlier, jungwon and his friends had found themselves in a strikingly similar situation as you and your group—equally disoriented, equally overwhelmed, and just as hilariously unprepared for the sheer sprawl of campus life.

the five of them had huddled around a map, each trying to decipher the labyrinth of buildings, shuttles, and cryptic acronyms like they were decoding ancient hieroglyphs. eventually, the group had to split, though not without groaning dramatically about the injustice of parting ways on their very first day.

jake and sunghoon, after much squinting and turning the map sideways for no apparent reason, had discovered they both needed to head north.

jake was assigned to the science complex—ominously named the helix research center—while sunghoon had to make his way to the monolithic fusion engineering complex, which honestly sounded more like a boss level in a video game than a school building.

meanwhile, jungwon, riki, and sunoo were bound for the south campus. jungwon had orientation at the arcadia studios—the heart of the architecture department. riki was heading to the grand horizon performing arts center, while sunoo was off to the silver screen studios, home to film and tv production students (and future dramatic monologues, no doubt).

the farewell was brief but not without flair. sunghoon and jake darted off to their own shuttle station with mock salutes and promises not to get lost or abducted by rogue professors. the remaining three made their way to the same shuttle bus station you and your friends had used earlier.

though fate had kept your paths from crossing that morning, something about the moment had tugged at jungwon—a peculiar sense of déjà vu, or maybe just the faintest echo of your voice from that first conversation you ever had. it hovered somewhere in the back of his mind, stubbornly refusing to take shape.

the shuttle ride was short, efficient, and surprisingly smooth and now, jungwon stood before the arcadia studios.

he didn’t enter right away.

instead, he lingered at the edge of the building’s shadow, tilting his head back to fully absorb the sight before him. the arcadia studios were a brutalist marvel—raw, unapologetic concrete rising like a fortress. but the roughness was softened by its tiers of lush greenery, terraces overflowing with vibrant plants that draped down the façade like ivy at an ancient castle. it was both cold and alive, severe yet poetic.

in his eyes, it wasn’t just a building.

it was a declaration. a promise that creativity didn’t have to be polished to be profound. and for jungwon, a budding architect with dreams too big for his own good, it was love at first sight.

he smiled softly to himself, the earlier tension melting away just a little. then, with one last breath of courage, he stepped through the wide doors and disappeared inside.

once everyone had disappeared into their respective buildings, the real whirlwind began.

orientations were in full swing. professors, sharp-dressed and bright-eyed (well, most of them), made their introductions—some warm and charismatic, others slightly robotic, as if they’d already rehearsed their welcome speeches one too many times over the years.

after a short talk, students were nudged into groups of ten for the ever-dreaded yet unavoidable “get-to-know-you” icebreakers.

each person took turns standing up, voice wavering or booming with overconfidence, depending on their personality. they shared their names, the courses they’d chosen, and why they had enrolled at grand horizon university.

the stories were a mix of heartfelt dreams, practical decisions, and the occasional joke that drew scattered chuckles. one guy said he only came here because the food in the cafeteria was ranked top ten in a blog he trusted religiously. no one knew if he was serious. he probably was.

some students spoke with ease, others visibly battled secondhand embarrassment for their peers, and a few simply tried to survive the social gauntlet without spontaneously combusting. it was a chaos of charm and awkwardness.

once the introductions settled down, the next phase began: the grand tour.

sleek shuttle buses lined up like in front of the buildings, waiting to tour the new students around the southern half of the campus. professors climbed aboard alongside their groups, and designated student guides took to the front, bright smiles plastered on as they reached for the intercoms.

the tour was fairly straightforward—an overview of each building as they passed, the guide pointing out massive lecture halls, pristine laboratories, sunlit studios, and confusingly named complexes.

each announcement was followed by students craning their necks to look out windows, snapping quick photos or scribbling down building names as if they'd remember which was which by tomorrow. they wouldn’t. no one ever does.

on your side of things, the tour had turned unexpectedly delightful. two students sitting near you had sparked up a conversation, and before you knew it, laughter flowed easily among you. you talked about your majors, your expectations, the panic of navigating an unfamiliar campus, and which professors looked like they've already prepared our downfall for fun.

your nerves slowly melted away into genuine enjoyment. there was something comforting about realizing everyone else was just as lost and excited as you were.

meanwhile, on another shuttle just a few buildings away, jungwon sat stiffly in his seat, listening to the tour guide’s voice drift through the bus. he nodded now and then, more out of politeness than curiosity, but his thoughts were elsewhere—spiraling.

something was gnawing at the edges of his mind. he couldn't shake that strange pull, the feeling that he'd forgotten something important. something—or someone.

then, as if fate had impeccable comedic timing, he turned his head toward the window.

and there you were.

riding a shuttle labeled ‘college of business and management complex’. chatting animatedly with the people beside you, smiling in that way that made things feel lighter.

his eyes widened as it hit him all at once.

bsba hrm. that’s what you said when you first met. that's your major. and now, here you were, in the south campus—his campus. so much for thinking he could spend the day dodging any accidental reunions. the universe had other plans.

“oh, i am so screwed,” he muttered under his breath, dragging out his map and promptly holding it up like a newspaper in a spy movie, trying to block his face from view even though you were clearly far too engrossed in your conversation to notice him. still, he wasn’t taking any chances.

he slumped deeper into his seat, sighing into his collar. maybe if he wished hard enough, he’d turn invisible. or teleport. either option sounded appealing.

once the orientation and tours wrapped up, you were quick to text your friends, fingers flying across the keyboard as you asked if they were finished and where they wanted to meet.

the replies came fast—chaewon, kazuha, and yunjin had wrapped up too, and without much debate, you all agreed on a place: the design & arts café tucked near the college of architecture, design, and planning.

it was quaint, cozy, and boasted drinks with pretentious names like “aesthetic matcha fog” and “monochrome americano.” you loved it.

coincidentally—though destiny might argue otherwise—jungwon, riki, and sunoo had just finished their own orientations and had exactly the same idea.

“design & arts café?” sunoo asked, scrolling through his phone.

“sounds good,” jungwon mumbled distractedly, still recovering from the earlier heart attack.

and so, completely unaware of each other’s plans, both groups set off toward the same charming café… one for coffee and comfort, and the other, unknowingly, toward a collision course with chaos—or maybe just an awkward reunion.

the four of you arrived at the café first, fortunate enough to beat the incoming tide of students that soon began trickling in, like drops before a storm. the design & arts café, with its warm amber lighting and soft hum of lo-fi music, was already halfway to overflowing.

its charm lay in the deliberate mess of creativity—sketches and prints hung on the walls, mismatched chairs that somehow worked together, and menus handwritten in chalk that made even the simplest drinks sound like a masterpiece.

yunjin and chaewon, ever the designated errand duo, volunteered to place everyone's orders, slipping away toward the counter with practiced ease. meanwhile, you and kazuha remained at the table, guarding everybody’s bags and phones, nestled in the quiet lull before the café reached peak chaos.

“good thing we got here earlier,” kazuha remarked, eyes drifting toward the growing line that now curved around the entrance.

you nodded, grateful for the lucky timing. while waiting, you and kazuha exchanged stories about your respective orientations and campus tours, comparing professors, the energy of your groupmates, and the many moments of near-miscommunication that left everyone either giggling or sweating.

just as you were imitating the overly dramatic voice of your tour guide, yunjin and chaewon returned, trays in hand and cheeks flushed from the heat and noise of the café.

“they said the food might take ten to fifteen minutes,” yunjin announced as she plopped down beside kazuha, setting the drinks on the table with theatrical flair.

chaewon took the spot next to you, carefully distributing napkins, straws, and drinks before handing the empty tray to a passing waiter. “thank you!” the four of you chimed in chorus.

“what were you guys chatting about?” chaewon asked, leaning slightly closer, curiosity evident in her eyes.

“just our orientations and the tour,” you replied, already sipping from your drink, the coldness cutting through the lingering warmth in the air.

“were they fun?” yunjin raised a brow, stirring her iced latte lazily.

you all nodded enthusiastically, breaking into a rapid-fire exchange of stories—mock reenactments, dramatic gasps, and exaggerated impressions of professors who clearly didn’t know how to use microphones.

laughter filled your little corner of the café, wrapping around you like a comforter. and then kazuha suddenly paused mid-laugh, eyes lighting up as if a forgotten memory had just barged its way back into her consciousness.

“oh right!” she said, waving her hand to corral everyone's attention. “something happened earlier.”

you looked up from your cheeseburger croissant, mid-bite. “what happened?”

kazuha leaned in a little, her tone dropping as if she were about to share a scandalous secret. “this guy came up to me and said he knew me—like, knew us. he asked what happened after the welcome party, when he helped us three back to our dorm.”

chaewon’s eyes widened in recognition. she gasped, slapped a hand over her mouth, then quickly chewed and swallowed whatever she'd been munching on before blurting out, “wait! the exact same thing happened to me!”

the table fell quiet in suspense as chaewon leaned in. “a cute guy—super polite—walked up and asked the same thing!”

“cute?” yunjin perked up, clearly invested now. “did they say their names?”

kazuha squinted in thought. “he said his name was… riki? or maybe kiki? something like that. honestly, i’m bad with names.”

chaewon giggled, nodding in solidarity. “mine said something like… sunoo? or soonoo? i think? he had great skin though.”

you blinked. “you guys are hopeless.”

kazuha, unfazed, twirled her fork through her carbonara. “i asked him how he even knew about us and he just smiled and said, ‘a friend of ours is a friend of yours.’ like—hello? what does that even mean?”

“that sounds like the start of a treasure hunt,” yunjin muttered, eyes narrowed. “or a mafia movie.”

you all laughed, tossing out theories as if you were detectives in a teen mystery drama. maybe they were undercover students. maybe it was a dare. maybe one of them was a secret admirer pulling the strings behind the scenes.

what none of you realized, however, was that not far from your table, just past the display case of pastries and behind a pair of oblivious art majors discussing something color related, stood jungwon, sunoo, and riki—utterly unaware of the conversation unfolding about them.

while riki and sunoo bickered over the menu—sunoo insisting on the blueberry muse tea, while riki claimed it sounded like a shampoo—jungwon stood a little apart, tuning out the noise of their playful quarrel.

the café was now a full-blown frenzy, packed with chattering students, baristas calling out names over the whirr of machines, and the occasional chair scrape that made everyone flinch for no reason at all.

jungwon sighed softly, the way someone does when they’ve just realized they're the only sane one in the group. he turned around, neck craning slightly as he scanned the room in search of an empty table. a small miracle: tucked near the corner, almost hidden, was a table clearly meant for four—but with one chair missing. three chairs. three of them. perfect.

just as he opened his mouth to share the discovery with the others, his words caught in his throat.

at the edge of his vision—soft, golden, unmistakably familiar—was you.

you were sitting with your friends, smile wide, laughter lighting up your features in a way that made the café’s dim lighting seem brighter for a second. jungwon froze. the kind of stillness that only happens when something—or someone—unexpected reappears.

he hadn’t even realized he'd stopped moving until a light tap on his shoulder brought him back to earth.

“jungwon, you okay?” sunoo asked, eyebrows raised in concern before following jungwon’s line of sight. and then, he smiled. “oh, is that chaewon? i think that’s chaewon.”

sunoo tried waving a little in her direction, although chaewon didn’t notice—too absorbed in peeling the lid off her drink. jungwon blinked rapidly and looked away, but not before sunoo had seen enough to realize this wasn’t about chaewon, it was about the girl sitting beside her.

“what are you two doing?” riki called out from the front, motioning to them to move up in the line. “we’re holding people up.”

“we saw someone we know,” sunoo explained as he fell in beside riki. “chaewon’s here, in the café. she’s in my major too.”

“oh yeah,” riki said, recognition dawning. “i think i met one of her friends too—kazuha, i think? she’s also in performing arts.”

they shuffled forward in line, but jungwon lingered behind, staring at the floor like it had just whispered his deepest secret aloud.

“guys,” jungwon said, voice low, “can we… maybe go to a different café?”

sunoo and riki turned to him, nearly in unison. “huh? why?”

“i mean,” he started, a little too quickly, “i just thought maybe we could eat near the north campus instead? maybe link up with sunghoon and jake? it might be less crowded too.”

riki and sunoo exchanged a look—half confusion, half telepathic best friend conversation. they could see it: the slight panic in jungwon’s eyes, the nervous clench of his jaw. something was up.

but they didn’t press.

“sure, man,” riki said with a shrug, stepping out of the line as if they hadn’t just spent fifteen minutes arguing over drinks.

sunoo smiled gently, falling in behind him. “that’s a great idea, actually. i’ll text sunghoon—see where they’re eating.”

jungwon exhaled, the relief immediate and visible in his shoulders. he trailed after them, grateful, fingers twitching with the anxious energy he hadn't managed to shake off since seeing you.

as they exited the café, the soft ding of the doorbell signaling their departure, jungwon allowed himself one last glance over his shoulder.

you were still there, surrounded by laughter, unaware of the ripple you’d sent through him.

he looked away and sighed, the sound quiet but heavy, and walked out into the sunlit afternoon, where his friends were already waiting.

as soon as they received the location from sunghoon and jake, the three made their way to the stem fuel stop, a modern, industrial-style café nestled just outside the college of science and mathematics complex.

the walls were covered in chalkboard doodles and formulas no one actually read, while the smell of roasted coffee beans and sizzling fries hung comfortably in the air.

they walked in, instantly greeted by jake’s enthusiastic wave from across the room. he was already seated at a corner table, mid-bite, with a tray of fries between him and sunghoon, who looked up from his phone looking like he just aged five academic years.

“there you guys are,” jake grinned, mouth half-full, before popping another fry into his mouth.

sunghoon gave them a small nod, setting his phone down slowly, eyes shifting to jungwon, who hadn’t said a word since entering.

they took their seats—sunoo on one end, riki beside him, and jungwon in the middle, visibly tense. sunoo and riki exchanged a glance before both quietly turned their attention to jungwon, brows slightly raised.

“so… what gives?” jake asked, licking salt off his fingers. “thought you were all eating at the design & arts café?”

“we were supposed to,” riki replied casually, reaching for a fry. “but it was already packed when we got there, and jungwon suggested we head here instead.”

his voice was nonchalant, but the way he tilted his head toward jungwon didn’t go unnoticed. jake and sunghoon caught it immediately, their gazes now fixed on the boy in question.

“okay,” sunoo began, arms crossed, leaning in a little. “jungwon. spill.”

jungwon let out a sigh so deep, it seemed to come from the soles of his feet. he closed his eyes briefly, then opened them to meet four sets of expectant eyes. and so, with the weight of an overly dramatic confession pressing on his chest, he told them everything.

he began with that night—the aftermath of the architecture welcoming party. how he’d offered to take you back to your apartment, just trying to be polite and helpful. everything was fine... until it wasn’t.

“i swear, she just stopped in the kitchen,” he muttered, rubbing his face. “and then she cupped my cheeks. my actual face.”

riki choked on a sip of soda. “no way—”

“yes way,” jungwon groaned. “and before i could even process what was happening, she just—started kissing me. on the face. like how she kissed my cat. repeatedly. with affection. so much affection.”

sunghoon blinked. “you got yami’d.”

“i got ambushed,” jungwon clarified, looking pained. “i didn’t even have time to run.”

his friends looked equally horrified and amused, already piecing the chaos together.

he went on to explain that ever since that night, he'd tried to maintain distance—create space. but you always showed up. in places he least expected. like some kind of charming poltergeist with perfect comedic timing.

then came this morning’s catastrophe.

“remember earlier,” he added, shifting uncomfortably, “when you caught me hiding behind a wall just a street away from my apartment building looking like i saw a ghost?”

sunoo nodded slowly. “we thought you were being dramatic.”

“yeah, well, the ghost was her.”

the table burst into quiet laughter, and jungwon rolled his eyes before continuing.

“i just stepped into the elevator,” jungwon said, leaning forward with an exasperated whisper, “and then she just—turned the corner. like it was a horror movie. i panicked. froze. and let the elevator doors close right in front of her.”

the entire table groaned in unison, hands flying up as if trying to physically catch the level of secondhand embarrassment in the air.

“oh my god, you didn’t,” sunoo winced, clutching his chest.

“i did,” jungwon sighed, defeated. “and of course, she was already behind me before i could go outside the building. called my name. asked me what just happened. i panicked again and said—” he paused, covering his face. “the most ridiculous excuse ever.”

“what did you say?” jake asked, eyes wide.

“i said ‘i misjudged! i thought you weren’t going to make it to the elevator in time!’” he said and groaned.

they all stared at him before groaning, basically saying ‘what the hell man?’

“i know!” jungwon snapped. “and she called me out immediately. saying, ‘i could’ve made it. easily. if you hadn’t just stood there like a damn npc and let the doors close.’”

sunghoon shook his head, biting back a smile. “and then?”

“i did what any respectable man would do,” jungwon mumbled. “i gave her the puppy eyes. apologized. and then ran the second i saw her hesitate.”

a silence fell over the table.

then: laughter. loud, unforgiving laughter.

jake slapped the table. sunoo buried his face in his hands. riki leaned back like he was about to fall off his chair, while sunghoon just shook his head, muttering something about how this was better than any tv show.

“okay, but real talk,” sunoo said once the laughter settled. “don’t you think it’s a bit unfair? you’re avoiding her like she did something wrong, but she has no idea what that is.”

the others nodded slowly, their amusement now replaced with a kind of thoughtful concern.

jungwon let his head fall back against the chair, eyes staring up at the ceiling as if searching for divine intervention.

“i don’t know,” he admitted quietly. “i thought... ignoring her would be easier than explaining everything. i just didn’t want to deal with it.”

“look,” riki said, tone more serious now, “we get it. but just tell us what you want to do. whatever it is, we’ve got your back.”

jungwon sat up, looking around at the four boys who had somehow become his emotional support team. he smiled faintly, the knot in his chest loosening a little.

“she’s a business ad major,” he said. “her classes are in the south campus. there’s a real chance i’ll run into her again, and... i’m not ready for that. not yet.”

“then that’s what we’ll do,” sunoo said simply, clapping his hands once. “operation: avoid the girl who kisses like she’s greeting a house pet is a go.”

they all agreed with a chorus of nods, their expressions varying from concerned to playfully dramatic.

jungwon smiled genuinely this time, the kind of small, grateful smile you give when you feel seen—even if you’ve made a mess of things.

“thanks, guys,” he muttered.

they all smiled in return, and just like that, the conversation shifted. no more drama, no more awkward elevator encounters—at least not for now. they moved on to safer territory: their orientations, campus tours, the professors they’d met, and the weirdly aggressive squirrel sunghoon swore chased him near the library.

for now, all was calm. or at least, calm enough.

once the last bites of lunch had been savored and the cafés began to quiet, the university crowd began to drift toward a new destination: horizon square.

nestled at the very heart of grand horizon university—between the bustling north campus and the vibrant south—it stood as a kind of living crossroads, a wide-open plaza pulsing with student life. its sprawling walkways were paved with stone in geometric patterns, bordered by stretches of manicured lawn and punctuated with fountains that danced softly under the afternoon sun.

shuttle buses lined the curb like a mechanical parade and near the square's edges, street food stalls sizzled and smoked, perfuming the air with the smell of grilled meat, buttery pastries, and something sweetly unidentifiable.

this was the university's beating heart, and today, it was dressed for an occasion.

dozens of vibrant club stalls had taken over the square—each one boasting colorful tarps, makeshift banners, and enthusiastic upperclassmen who were equal parts persuasive and unhinged. this was club day, and at grand horizon university, it wasn’t just tradition—it was a requirement. every student had to join at least one club, a law more binding than some course requirement.

you stood with your friends at the edge of the square, bright pamphlets in your hands. it had been handed to you by a particularly energetic senior who’d practically stuffed it into your chest mid-walk. the paper listed every club on campus—from the usuals like student government and photography to more obscure options like the “modern escapists book society” and the suspiciously vague “club club.”

yunjin, kazuha, and chaewon had already circled their picks with the decisiveness of people ordering dessert after a good meal. you, however, stared at the list like it was written in another language.

“you okay?” chaewon asked, peeking over your shoulder as you flipped the pamphlet upside down, hoping it would spark inspiration.

“honestly?” you sighed. “none of them are calling out to me. i don’t want to just pick one because it sounds cool and end up trapped in a weekly horror show of forced interactions.”

“too late,” yunjin quipped, nudging you playfully. “that’s called college.”

she had already chosen to join the design society, which made perfect sense—she had the aesthetic sense of a pinterest board and the confidence to back it up. kazuha, on the other hand, had naturally gravitated toward the grand horizon dance company, drawn in by the familiar rhythm and stage lights. and chaewon? she surprised no one by going for the film & tv production society—if anyone was made for dramatic camera pans and chaotic editing rooms, it was her.

you admired their certainty as much as you envied it.

“i think i’ll just walk around,” you finally said, eyes scanning the lively square. “i want to see if any of these clubs actually speak to me. like, soul-to-soul.”

“sure,” kazuha smiled. “we’ll just see you at aurora hall when we’re done?”

“deal,” you nodded.

with that, the four of you drifted apart, each pulled in a different direction by color, curiosity, or convenience. the square buzzed around you like a beehive—music blasting from bluetooth speakers, laughter echoing, students juggling flyers and iced coffees, shouting over one another in a chorus of invitations.

and somewhere among that cheerful chaos, you were hoping to find your place.

or at least a club booth that didn't have glitter in the air and desperate energy in the eyes.

somewhere near the heart of horizon square—surrounded by the hum of voices, the rustling of pamphlets, and the occasional clang of a tambourine from a wildly enthusiastic music club—stood jungwon and his group, each of them absorbed in their own glossy paper map of campus club life.

the pamphlets were colorful, almost aggressively so, each one a collage of ambition and chaos. every square inch was crammed with names, taglines, and wildly optimistic descriptions. jungwon’s friends were already forming their personal paths, choices made with the kind of ease that made jungwon’s indecision feel a little louder in his own chest.

“alright, let’s split up and sign up,” sunoo declared, already folding his pamphlet like a seasoned origami artist.

“creative writers’ forum, here i come,” he added with a proud twirl, like he’d just been cast in a play.

riki, unsurprisingly, had set his eyes—and rhythm—on the grand horizon dance company. he gave a little spin for dramatic flair, earning a thumbs-up from sunoo and a head shake from jungwon.

“we get it,” sunoo deadpanned. “you’ve got moves.”

“can’t waste this talent,” riki replied, flipping imaginary hair as he walked off.

jake, meanwhile, had found unexpected excitement in the biology enthusiasts club. something about their tagline—“where science meets obsession”—spoke to the budding lab rat in him.

sunghoon stood frozen, his pamphlet flapping lazily in the breeze. “i... don’t want anything that screams ‘engineering.’ i’m traumatized already and school hasn't officially started yet.”

“so just do something chill,” jake shrugged.

and with that, sunghoon chose the chill spot: a club that promised board games, snacks, naps, and zero productivity. the dream. the sanctuary. his people.

but jungwon remained where he stood, pamphlet still unfolded in his hands like a riddle waiting to be solved. while the others peeled off one by one, he found himself flipping pages and rereading club descriptions with growing restlessness as he walked aimlessly.

he wanted something... more. something honest. something that would let his creativity breathe.

and then he heard it—a very familiar voice. a voice he would never forget.

“would you like to join our club?”

the voice wasn’t loud, but it was enough to cut through the noise. jungwon glanced up, heart skipping in recognition. there, behind one of the stalls, stood someone he hadn’t seen in a long time.

“jay?”

he didn’t even realize his feet had started moving until he was already crossing the short distance, smiling wide, pamphlet forgotten.

the man behind the stall blinked, scanning the crowd for the voice. then, spotting jungwon, his eyes lit up. a grin cracked across his face as he stepped out from behind the table.

“bro! what are you doing here?” jay exclaimed, clasping both hands on jungwon’s shoulders like he was trying to confirm he was real.

jungwon chuckled, brushing his hands away and dapping him up. “what do you think i’m doing here? obviously pursuing higher education because my parents say it's ‘necessary’.”

“classic,” jay laughed. “same old jungwon.”

he gestured toward the stall, ushering him over like he was welcoming a guest into his home. jungwon followed, sinking into the offered chair with a soft smile playing on his lips.

“how’ve you been?” jay asked, leaning against the table. “how are sunoo and riki?”

“i'm good and sunoo and riki are actually here too,” jungwon said, lighting up. “we all got in. they’re off somewhere now, signing up to the clubs they wanna join.”

“no way,” jay said with mock disbelief. “the gang’s all here? man, time really does fly. one second we’re cramming for high school finals, the next we’re at the gates of adulthood, pretending to have it all together.”

jungwon laughed quietly, nodding. “yeah. wild.”

jay had always been like an older brother to them—cool without trying, always knowing just what to say. back in high school, he was the one they ran to when things got too loud or too confusing. even now, just seeing him eased a weight jungwon hadn’t realized he’d been carrying.

“so,” jay said, crossing his arms, “have you picked a club yet?”

jungwon hesitated. “not yet. i’ve been looking for something... art-related, maybe. i’m not really confident in my skills, but i know i have decent skills. i just don’t think it’s enough.”

jay hummed thoughtfully and, without missing a beat, took jungwon’s crumpled pamphlet right out of his hands.

“let’s find it, then,” he said, scanning the list like a detective about to crack a case. “you’ve got good instincts. we just need to find the right space to grow them.”

and in that moment, jungwon didn’t feel so lost anymore.

“how about the art & sketch society?” jay offered, handing the pamphlet back to jungwon with a confident flick of his fingers. “focuses on drawing, sketching, all that creative jazz. sounds like it’s right up your alley.”

jungwon blinked, unfolding the slightly crumpled pamphlet with renewed interest, eyes scanning the maze of club names and descriptions. “where did you even see that? how did i miss it?”

jay leaned over with the air of a man who’s done this far too many times, pointing to a modest little box near the bottom corner of the page. “right here. you need better eyesight, man.”

jungwon rolled his eyes but chuckled, the corners of his mouth curving upward. “what would i do without you?”

“probably join something tragic or something that requires anything physical like taekwondo,” jay said with mock solemnity.

jungwon snorted.

“actually,” jay added, a little more seriously, “i was gonna ask if you wanted to join our club. but, uh, figured it might not be your thing.”

he handed over a smaller, more personalized flyer—clearly homemade, slightly chaotic in design, and deeply proud of it.

jungwon read the name aloud, brow furrowed. “the... multi-maybe club?”

jay grinned. “we call ourselves the m-and-m’s. the m-m club, if you will.”

jungwon looked up, deeply confused and deeply amused. “what do you even do in a multi-maybe club?”

jay’s grin widened. “maybe everything. maybe nothing. maybe you paint a wall. maybe you'll nap under a tree. it’s a lawless land, my friend.”

jungwon burst into laughter, the kind that bent him slightly at the waist and made him cover his face for a second. jay stood back with a smile, watching fondly like an older brother watching his favorite sibling crack up at a dumb joke.

“dude,” jungwon said through the laughter, wiping at his eyes, “you just made my whole day.”

“glad to be of service,” jay replied, giving a mock bow.

as jungwon tried to catch his breath, he remembered something. “sunoo and riki need to know you’re here. they’d lose their minds. you free later?”

jay looked down at his wrist, as if checking a watch that didn’t exist. “hmm... maybe i have time.”

jungwon raised an eyebrow.

“okay, okay,” jay laughed. “i’m free. just gotta find one more person to sign up for our club, and then i can pack this whole thing up.”

he stood up straight, brushing invisible dust off his pants, and jungwon mirrored him.

“we’re all meeting at the stem fuel stop later, after everyone’s done signing up,” jungwon said, slowly backing away. “also, we met two new people—you’re gonna love them. they’re... something else.”

“perfect. i’m bringing someone too. you’ll love him,” jay replied, raising a hand in a casual wave as jungwon turned.

“see you later, m&m,” jungwon called over his shoulder with a smirk.

“go find your sketch society, art boy,” jay shot back, laughing.

with one last grin, jungwon disappeared into the crowd, pamphlet in hand, his steps a little lighter now as he searched for the art & sketch society’s stall.

you, on the other hand, were still wandering—admittedly a little lost and, at this point, thoroughly over the parade of pamphlets being thrust in your face.

upperclassmen lined the plaza like cheerful merchants at a bizarre bazaar, each one passionately marketing their clubs as if their lives depended on it. from anime appreciation societies to eco-sustainability coalitions, everyone seemed to have something to pitch. and yet, nothing called out to you.

you smiled politely, declining brochure after brochure with a soft “no, thank you,” until your feet—bored of your indecision—guided you toward a rather peculiar-looking stall.

its banner was simple yet striking: two large block letters—M M—hung above, bold and cryptic. beneath the sign, in slightly chaotic handwriting, read: the multi-maybe club.

you tilted your head. multi-maybe?

it sounded like the kind of club that didn't quite know what it wanted to be. a filler club, perhaps. the type students joined just to finish a university requirement. and yet... there was something oddly magnetic about it. as if those two bold letters were speaking directly to your soul in a silent language only lost, curious freshmen could understand.

drawn in by either fate or mild existential curiosity, you approached.

the guy behind the table was currently mid-conversation with another student, his animated gestures suggesting a practiced pitch. but then his gaze shifted and locked onto you.

“oh—hi there! are you interested in joining our club?” he greeted warmly, already reaching for a flyer. he handed it to you with both hands, like it was something sacred.

you glanced down at the handmade paper. bold scribbles, doodled stars, and a questionable amount of glitter glue outlined the text:

‘welcome to the multi-maybe club! where you can do everything... or nothing. your multiple maybes? might just happen here—or maybe not. it's your choice!’

he flashed a grin and pointed proudly at the sign above his head. “we're all about possibilities,” he said. “maximum freedom. minimal expectations.”

you looked at him, then at the sign, then back at the flyer.

“…where do i sign up?” you asked, surprising even yourself with how fast the words came out.

the guy's smile spread even wider, his eyes practically lighting up. “you just made the best maybe-decision of your life, miss..?” he declared, handing you a clipboard with a list of names. without hesitation, you wrote down your name, your major, and scribbled your signature at the bottom.

“y/n,” you said. “just call me y/n.”

“y/n,” he repeated with a nod, committing it to memory. “nice to meet you. i’m jay—vice president of the m-m club. our president’s off being a busy graduating senior, but she exists. i promise.”

you chuckled, handing back the clipboard.

jay reached under the table and pulled out a more official-looking pamphlet—actually printed, this time. “here’s our schedule, basic club info, building details. you’ll mostly find us in the lucent library next to aurora hall. the librarian kinda loves us. mostly because we either do absolutely nothing or occasionally help re-shelve books. it’s a vibe.”

you scanned the paper, trying not to laugh at how absurdly laid-back the club seemed. still, it felt oddly right.

“thanks, jay,” you said, tucking the brochure into your tote bag. “see you around.”

“yep, see you around,” he replied, giving you a small wave as you turned to leave.

as you walked away, your thoughts drifted. ‘did i really just join a filler club?’ you shook your head, a small laugh slipping from your lips as you slid the flyer into your bag, tucked just beside the brochure.

but strangely enough, you felt something warm bubble in your chest.

excitement.

not the wild, overwhelming kind—but a quiet, budding curiosity.

as soon as you managed to escape the buzz of horizon square—dodging the last wave of overly enthusiastic club recruiters—you finally spotted your friends. they were gathered on the broad stone steps leading to aurora hall, their silhouettes bathed in the golden hue of the afternoon light.

you waved both arms above your head as you jogged toward them, the crowd now thinning as students slowly trickled out of the plaza. some were heading home, others drifting into the campus cafés, tucked-away eateries, or lingering in the comfort of air-conditioned student lounges.

yunjin noticed you first. she raised a can of diet coke in the air like a sacred offering, her expression amused. you couldn’t help but let out a chuckle—she knew you too well.

you reached them with slightly breathless laughter and dropped yourself between chaewon and kazuha, letting your weight sink into the cool steps. yunjin was perched two steps above you, and with no hesitation, you leaned back so your head could rest comfortably on her thigh. she handed you the drink without a word.

“bless your soul,” you mumbled with a grateful smile as you cracked the can open and took a generous sip. the fizzy sweetness coated your tongue, and you exhaled with an exaggerated, refreshed sigh. without a second thought, you leaned back further, letting your body melt against yunjin’s warmth as she absentmindedly played with your hair.

“should we go home now?” she murmured lazily, fingers threading through your strands.

the word home struck like a silent spell.

no one answered immediately. instead, all four of you sank into an almost meditative silence. just the thought of soft pillows, cool sheets, and the sweet hum of an air conditioner was enough to temporarily sedate you all.

you each had things to prepare for tomorrow—yes, technically syllabus week, but the illusion of leisure was already wearing thin. there were class schedules to memorize, supplies to organize, nerves to settle.

after several long, deliciously quiet moments, as if perfectly choreographed, you all nodded slowly and muttered a collective, almost reverent: “yep.”

no further discussion was needed. you stood together, heavy-footed and slow-moving, like four survivors of a mild but exhausting war.

“we should head back and recharge,” you said, walking in step with them. “we’ve only got one week to mentally brace ourselves for whatever academic avalanche awaits.”

“and we find out our schedules tomorrow,” kazuha added with a groan, already opening her phone to book a ride. “can’t wait to see if fate puts me in an 7a.m. class in the first semester.”

“tell me about it.” yunjin grumbled.

chaewon simply sighed like she’d already accepted her impending doom.

you booked your own ride and the four of you migrated to the waiting shed just by the university’s gate. the air was beginning to cool as the sun dipped lower, casting long shadows along the sidewalk.

your uber arrived first.

you gave each of your friends quick hugs and soft cheek kisses—half-hearted from tiredness but no less sincere.

“text us when you get home,” chaewon reminded you just as you slid one foot into the car.

you gave her a lazy thumbs-up before disappearing behind the door and letting it close with a soft thud.

the ride home was quiet. your head leaned against the window, and the city outside blurred into pastel streaks as exhaustion settled in your bones. by the time you arrived at your apartment, you barely had the energy to thank your driver.

the moment the door shut behind you, you kicked off your shoes and peeled away the layers of your day until you were down to nothing but your underwear and bra. with a long exhale, you padded barefoot across the floor and into your bedroom, phone in hand.

a few quick texts were sent—first to your group chat: ‘home safe’, then to your parents, followed by a small heart emoji. you dropped your phone onto the bed with a soft thump and made your way to your closet, grabbing a change of clothes.

the shower was bliss. warm water cascading down your skin like a gentle reset, washing away the sweat, the noise, and the weight of navigating new beginnings.

after drying your hair and pulling on fresh clothes, you collapsed onto your bed. the mattress embraced you like an old friend. the pillow welcomed your head like it had been waiting all day.

you meant to grab your phone again.

you meant to check messages, maybe scroll a little.

but your body had other plans.

within minutes, your breathing slowed, thoughts blurred, and sleep took you—soft and soundless.

meanwhile, tucked into a corner booth at the stem fuel stop, jungwon and his group were in a state of quiet suspense—well, most of them were. jake and sunghoon were entirely absorbed in their own little worlds, multitasking between snacking and scrolling through their phones, while sunoo and riki eyed jungwon like he’d grown a second head.

“won,” sunoo said, voice laced with suspicion and a bit of exasperation, “can you please tell us why we’re still here? i thought we were just gonna meet up, take a break, maybe grab some food. but you’re not even eating. you’re just… smiling at the window.”

sunoo gestured dramatically toward jungwon, who was indeed sitting there with the faintest, most serene smile on his face. every time the café door swung open, his head would subtly turn, eyes lighting up with anticipation. it was getting weird.

“just trust me,” jungwon said, practically glowing with mystery. “you’ll be surprised. and happy. very, very soon.”

sunoo narrowed his eyes but leaned back in his seat with a long sigh, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like, “i swear… him and his mood swings.”

riki raised an eyebrow and tilted his head toward sunoo, silently mouthing, ‘what’s up with him now?’

sunoo just shrugged, the universal response for ‘no clue, don’t ask me.’

riki glanced at the clock. “he sure is taking his sweet time,” he muttered under his breath, peering down at his phone, clearly considering whether this whole setup was worth the wait.sunoo shot him a look that said ‘tell me about it’, when—

“i see you two are still as impatient as ever.”

a familiar voice, smooth and teasing, landed behind them, a head popping from behind them and a hand gently pressed down on both their shoulders, startling the two boys upright.

they twisted in their seats, eyes wide.

“jay?!” they both gasped in unison, voices laced with disbelief, joy, and the slightest touch of betrayal—how dare he sneak up on them like that?

sunoo shot up from his seat and threw his arms around jay’s neck like he was making up for lost time. riki was still half in shock, but his body moved on instinct, arms wrapping tightly around jay’s waist.

“woah—hey—okay, this is happening,” jay laughed, slightly thrown off balance by the ambush hug, his arms eventually resting around both their heads, gently ruffling their hair like he used to.

jungwon, still seated and watching the scene unfold, burst into a quiet laugh. there was something so warm, so stupidly precious, about seeing his friends melt like kids at a surprise reunion.

“did you guys miss me that much?” jay teased, smiling as he tried to wiggle free from their emotional death grip.

sunoo and riki both nodded emphatically, faces buried in opposite ends of jay’s shoulder and torso.

jay chuckled, “you do realize it’s only been two years, right? not a whole lifetime.”

sunoo and riki pulled back just far enough to glare up at him, eyes narrowed.

“that is a lifetime,” they chorused indignantly, as if he’d just said something blasphemous.

jay held up his hands in surrender, laughing again. “okay, okay. two years is forever. my bad.”

he patted their heads again, endearingly like an older brother humoring two very dramatic younger siblings. “now, can i sit? or do i need to earn that too?”

sunoo finally slid back into his seat with an exaggerated sigh, while riki made room on the other side. jay sat between them, comfortably wedged in the heart of the group once again—like he’d never left.

“umm, guys?” jake’s voice sliced gently through the warmth of the reunion. it was the kind of voice people used when they were trying not to intrude but also couldn’t ignore the rising curiosity bubbling inside them. his hand hovered mid-air like a student with a question—half-hopeful, half-hesitant.

he and sunghoon had been sitting quietly, mere spectators to the emotional reunion unfolding in front of them. they didn’t want to interrupt something that was clearly meaningful, but the urge to be part of it was beginning to hum louder deep inside them.

besides, judging by the way riki and sunoo lit up at the sight of jay, this wasn’t just a casual catch-up—this was the friend reunion. and they wanted in.

“are you gonna introduce us,” jake said, tilting his head, “or should we just keep watching from the audience section?”

jay chuckled, the sound low and familiar, like laughter shared in hallways and cafeterias. he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “sorry, sorry. name’s jay. i’ve been friends with these three since high school. i’m a third year here at grand horizon—marketing major, occasional chaos enabler.”

he reached out to shake their hands.

“jake,” the boy said with a bright smile, “biology major. aspiring mad scientist.”

“sunghoon,” the other said smoothly. “engineering. part-time realist, full-time eye-roller.”

jay grinned as he shook both their hands. “i like this group already.”

“how’d you all meet, anyway?” he asked, looking around as he settled into the seat like he belonged there.

sunoo, ever ready to explain, perked up. “sunghoon’s my dorm mate, jake’s with riki, and we kinda just... adopted jungwon last month. it was very wholesome.”

“like a stray cat,” jake added helpfully.

jungwon made a face. “i’m right here, you know.”

“we know,” riki said, patting his head.

jay laughed, then, without missing a beat, leaned over and stole a fry from jake’s plate with the grace of someone who had clearly done this before.

“did you just—?”

“i did,” jay confirmed mid-chew, grinning. “anyway, it’s great to meet you guys. you’re gonna love it here, i promise. oh—and i’ve got a friend coming. he should be here any minute.”

as if on cue, the bell above the café door gave a soft chime, announcing the arrival of someone new.

and then—he walked in.

a young man with striking red hair, not the playful kind, but the bold, unapologetic shade of red that demanded attention the moment he entered a room. his presence was immediate—subtle, but undeniable.

he wore a black tank top tucked effortlessly into dark gray, high-waisted trousers tailored to perfection. they cinched his waist and flowed down with structured elegance, every step a study in confidence. layered loosely over his frame was a glossy black leather button-up long sleeve shirt, worn open, the material catching the light with each movement like a ripple of shadow.

a thin, silver chain with a cross pendant rested against his collarbone, glinting faintly. tiny silver hoops adorned his ears, understated yet intentional. and slung diagonally across his torso was a sleek black crossbody bag, the strap sitting snug over his chest, completing the look with quiet precision.

he didn’t look around frantically. instead, his eyes swept the café with the calm disinterest of someone who had no need to search—only to be found.

he looked cool—effortlessly so. intimidating, even. the kind of person who didn’t need to try hard to stand out. he just did.

all five of them froze, except for jay. the kind of freeze that wasn’t fear, but awe. they weren’t sure whether to hope this was jay’s friend or pray it wasn’t—because if it was, they were suddenly not sure they were dressed well enough for this sudden meet up.

jay raised his arm and called out with a wide smile. “yo! heeseung, over here!”

the red-haired man—heeseung—glanced over. a faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips, quiet but genuine. and then he moved, heading toward them with long, unhurried strides, each step measured and magnetic.

“wait... that’s his friend?” sunoo whispered, eyes wide.

riki nodded slowly, voice distant. “he looks like a runway model who just woke up and decided to casually destroy everyone’s self-esteem.”

“and somehow he looks even taller in person,” jungwon muttered, blinking.

“i'm probably taller,” riki tried saving his self-esteem even though he wasn't sure if it was actually working.

jay was already stylish—sharp jawline, good taste, an air of familiarity. but heeseung? he walked in like a scene from a movie. red hair, glowing skin, dressed like a secret. he didn’t blend in. he redefined the space around him.

even jungwon, who had his own soft kind of charm with tousled blonde hair and a boyish smile, felt like a background character.

heeseung approached the table with the quiet composure of someone used to eyes following him—unbothered, but never arrogant. like the world always adjusted itself slightly to make room for him.

he walked past everyone at the table, his pace unhurried, presence effortlessly commanding. but instead of acknowledging the wide-eyed stares or curious glances sent his way, he went straight to jay, greeting him with a casual dap that spoke of years of shared moments and easy trust.

after the brief gesture, heeseung’s gaze swept across the table, his lips tugging into a soft, almost bashful smile. it was surprising, really—how someone who looked like a living editorial spread from a fashion magazine could also look so... shy.

he leaned closer to jay, his voice low. “umm, do i have to introduce myself first?”

a second ago, he had seemed untouchable—cool, collected, almost intimidating. now, he resembled a new kid in class, unsure where to begin.

jay chuckled, amused by the contrast, and gave heeseung a light pat on the back. “just sit down and start talking,” he whispered, then gently nudged him toward the only empty chair—right beside jungwon. heeseung blinked, then allowed himself to be pushed down into the seat like a confused but obedient hamster.

“oh, okay,” he muttered under his breath, then cleared his throat and addressed the table. “hi, umm... i’m heeseung. a friend of jay’s. third year. music composition major. we’ve also been in the same club since first year.” he nodded once, firmly, as if that sealed the deal on his introduction.

there was a beat of silence before everyone else began introducing themselves, one after the other.

first came jungwon, polite and reserved. then sunoo, bright and curious. riki chimed in with a charming smile, followed by jake, who had the enthusiasm of a golden retriever discovering a new friend. sunghoon went last, cool and composed, giving a small nod as if he were in a press conference.

the energy was a little awkward, but thankfully, everyone seemed willing to push past that initial stiffness. questions began to float into the air, light and genuine.

riki leaned forward first, his tone friendly. “so, how’d you and jay meet?”

heeseung let out a short laugh, the memory lighting up his face. “we met on the first day of uni, actually. both of us were at horizon square, just wandering around trying to figure out what club to join. then we ended up standing in front of this one weird stall that had two massive m’s on the sign. the multi-maybe club. weird name, right?”

the group chuckled.

“anyway, jay started talking to me out of nowhere—just asking random things like what my major was, what music i liked, what my blood type was. totally normal stuff.” heeseung grinned. “we didn’t know anyone at the time, so it was honestly nice he didn’t just leave after signing up. after that, we kept in touch. we’d study in the library together, eat lunch during breaks... even though we’re in different majors, he kind of just stuck around. and yeah, he’s basically the only real friend i’ve had here.”

jay, listening with an increasingly dramatic expression, slowly placed both hands over his heart like a victorian lady hearing a love confession.

“awww,” jay gasped. “i’m your only real friend?”

he reached out theatrically for heeseung’s hand, his eyes brimming with fake tears.

without even blinking, heeseung rolled his eyes and yanked his hand away—then flipped jay off with a casual flick of his middle finger.

the entire table erupted into laughter.

“well,” heeseung added with a playful smirk, “i’m actually hoping to change that by meeting all of you.”

jay clutched his chest as if he'd been shot. “and just like that, replaced. i should’ve let you eat alone.”

more laughter followed, the kind that comes when tension melts away and something genuine settles in its place. the group was still new to each other, but it no longer felt like strangers trying too hard. it felt like the beginning of something that might just be real.

the conversation continued to flow—light, casual, but slowly unraveling layers. they asked about each other's lives, traded stories of high school mischief, swapped sports preferences, and shared scattered facts with the kind of curiosity only new friendships carry. it was a soft chaos of voices, laughter, and the occasional gasp at unexpected confessions.

then, as if sensing a lull in the momentum, jay leaned forward and tilted his head toward jungwon.

“so,” he said with a glint in his eye, “anything new with you, jungwon?”

jungwon blinked, caught off guard. his mouth opened slightly, ready to reply—but sunoo beat him to it with a mischievous grin.

“he has a girl problem right now,” sunoo said in a sing-song tone, and jay’s expression lit up like a proud older brother watching his kid finally enter the dating world.

“what? finally?” jay laughed, eyebrows raised in delight.

jungwon’s ears turned an unmistakable shade of pink, his hand reaching up to rub the back of his neck as he let out an awkward chuckle. “it’s not a problem, she’s not a problem,” he said, shaking his head, clearly hoping to steer the topic elsewhere—anywhere, really.

but riki leaned in dramatically, eyes wide with faux shock. “ohhh, he’s defending her now? this is new.”

sunoo, never one to let a moment slip, immediately mimicked jungwon’s earlier voice. “she’s not a problem,” he repeated with exaggerated sincerity, clasping his hands to his chest like he was quoting poetry.

jay looked amused, borderline delighted, as he leaned closer. “okay, now i have to know. what happened?”

heeseung, who had been quietly sipping his drink and observing, now perked up as well. his eyes, already large, seemed to double in size, gleaming with pure curiosity. “i’m curious too.”

jungwon groaned, realizing escape was futile. “nothing happened,” he muttered. “let’s just say... i’m trying to avoid her. that’s it. end of story.”

he looked around the table, firm and resolute, like a man putting up caution tape around his heart.

everyone exchanged glances but decided—for now—to let it go. jay, however, had other plans.

with the stealth of someone used to scheming, he leaned toward sunoo and gave the slightest nod. sunoo caught it instantly.

sunoo sighed, already resigning himself to being the group's designated informant. jay then flicked his gaze toward heeseung and gave a small head gesture toward sunoo. heeseung, catching on, turned to sunoo as well. sunoo nodded once, a solemn confirmation.

a pact had been made. they were going to sunoo and sunghoon’s dorm later. mission: dig up all the tea.

it might’ve been a spontaneous plan, but in their group, that was more than enough. jay and heeseung were already honorary members. the invitation was unspoken but entirely valid. all they had to do was wait for jungwon to finally go home.

as if on cue, the topic changed, drifting into safer territory—about the orientation and tour earlier and old campus drama when jay and heeseung were first and second year. the sky outside had deepened into shades of evening, and before long, it was time to go.

the group slowly rose from their seats, gathering their things, still chatting as they made their way out of the café. they lingered at the front gate of the university, waiting under a waiting shed for their ubers to arrive.

jungwon’s car was the first to pull up.

“i’ll see you guys tomorrow,” he said casually, waving as he climbed into the vehicle.

“bye!” the group chorused.

“message us when you get home,” sunoo followed up as jungwon hops inside the car.

but the second the car door shut and his ride rolled away down the street, the rest of them turned toward each other with the same look.

it was time.

no one needed to say it. it was understood. they were going to sunoo and sunghoon’s dorm, and tonight, they would unearth the full story behind jungwon’s ‘she’s not a problem’ girl.

jake and riki, a bit late to realize what was happening, exchanged glances.

“wait—are we going too?” jake asked.

“you are now,” sunoo said, already walking ahead.

riki shrugged. “well, i do know the whole story…”

“perfect,” jay grinned. “you’re coming. we need to know every detail.”

and with that, the group disappeared into the night, drawn together not just by friendship, but by the irresistible pull of juicy gossip waiting to be spilled behind dorm room walls.

taglist⠀.⠀.⠀.⠀ @morganaawriterr @wondoras @mypolka @meowwwon @dolliehue @in-somnias-world @yjwonsgf @kirijuns @iifrui @momisanalien @vieniee @drunkjazed @hhyvsstuff @readinmidnight @noona-neomu-yeppeo @cutehoons02 @robotinvenus @starfallia @nijisanjigenshin @kkamismom12 @kinamurariki @soobundle1009 @supershy3 @nodoubtily @vrikisn @jayjw16enxp @skzfangirl143 @0leelina0 @noriiluv @o2whre @nocturnebite @userprdx (taglist is still open, comment to be added.) final notes⠀.⠀.⠀.⠀i hope you guys enjoyed! part five will probably be posted on saturday or sunday! see you guys then!

©⠀mæwphoria⠀|⠀all works belong to me. strictly do not plagiarize, copy, translate, paraphrase, rewrite or repost my works on any other platforms. if it's inspiration gained from my work then it's appreciated and i wish you good luck with your own stories. thank you.

⠀

[luckaonmyside]

Grayson Hawthorne HCS!!

When he hit puberty he shot up from 5'4 to 5'11 in a year! He was really lanky and awkward for like three months then he started to BEEF up.

He freckles like CRAZY (Jameson does too) but he hates it so he avoids the sun like crazy.

If you do catch him in the sun, his grey eyes have just the tiniest hint of green.

He documented his life very religiously, keeping an extensive library of journals that he hides in his room under the floor.

The rest of this stuff might be a little occ because my brain likes to adopt book characters and give me brain wormies

I like to think that Grayson had a creative side that Tobias suppressed to mold him into the perfect heir. But before that he did all sorts of crafts, pottery, painting*, origami, scrapbooking.

I hated that Mrs JLB (love her) had Grayson drop out of HARVARD. One of the most prestigious schools in the USA. Grayson Hawthorne who doesn't "give up" or "back down" from anything??? He is so flipping hard headed he would not do that!! Anyways I think he would have transferred to a different program though (my personal fav choice is architectural design)

*(I have separate angst thoughts about this)

[demigodsanswer]

I love your writing soooooo much !!! I just NEED to read more about that modern royalty AU you posted yesterday

started sweet and flirty. got smutty. so it goes. touches of d/s dynamics, but pretty much all in vague terms. smut stars under the ~*~

part one here

~

Percy made her tapas. Annabeth was pretty sure that was the Spanish equivalent of her taking him to the Ikea food court.

Knowing Percy, he'd probably really enjoy that date, actually.

Either way, they were delicious. He spread them out on the coffee table in his private room, and they ate on the couch like Roman emperors. Annabeth appreciated the choice; it gave her a better opportunity to show off her legs, and Percy seemed more than willing to look.

He'd brought a bottle of Spanish wine, but neither of them had reached for it. She wanted to see if she liked him as much sober as she had tipsy.

Annabeth had had a crush on him once. They crossed paths at an Easter garden party when they were twelve, and she and Percy got up to some trademark mischief. The press was quick to name Annabeth a "wild child" despite her being very literally a child, but those youthful rebellions (stealing extra deserts and seeing who could get closest to the Queen of Spain without being noticed) had solidified her as "Sweden's sweetheart" to her people at least. That mattered much more to her.

They were kept apart after that.

Until they met on opposite ends of a mock trial case involving bribes, police entrapment, and a briefcase full of money. Yale's team always was better than Harvard's, despite her best efforts. But she and Piper were a rock star attorney-witness pair that constantly knocked Percy out of the top awards spot.

It was a testament to her skill that she even managed to stay focused when they went up against Yale. Because the cute twelve year old she'd once crushed on hard was now a very hot man. And the six years that had passed since their college days had only made him hotter. Strong jaw, Roman nose, dark hair, light eyes, muscular but not too much, well-done tattoos ...

Annabeth was cooked.

She had hoped she wouldn't find him as appealing when she was sober, but no. If anything it was worse.

"Bit old school to go with another royal, isn't it?" Her dad had asked her that morning when he showed her The Sun. (After about 15 minutes of ranting to staff about what an invasion of his daughter's privacy, that was).

All Annabeth could do was shrug and say, "He's barely royal. And we aren't going steady. He hasn't pinned me on the back of the school bus, or anything."

"I'm not that old," her father said with a laugh.

Annabeth reached for another bite. "I never asked. What did you study at Yale?"

"Oh, classics," Percy said, wiping his hands on a napkin. "Did a master's too."

"Really?" Annabeth asked. It seemed so impractical. She'd been pushed to do all sorts of pre-law, history, and international relations courses, despite her real passions for architecture and design. But she figured that was the trade-off to being born into the most extreme generational privilege.

Percy nodded. "I'm thinking about applying to Oxbridge for a Ph.D."

Annabeth smiled, and asked again: "Really?"

"I'm not just some big, hot, dummy," he said.

"I don't think you're dumb, Percy," Annabeth said.

"Thanks," Percy said. Percy had his charmer smile -- it was a bold, straight on, smile that was a little cocky, but mostly communicated that you were the center of his attention in that moment. And then he had a real smile, one that betrayed him and communicated real affection. It was softer, smaller, closed-lipped, and he usually looked away as it happened.

This was one of those.

"Do you know Greek?" Annabeth asked, resting a hand on his knee.

"Ancient," he said, before reciting a few lines Annabeth recognized. The roll of his tongue as he spoke the ancient language made her warm.

He paused right when the poem was getting good. "That was --"

"Goddess, sing of the cataclysmic wrath of great Achilles, son of Peleus, which caused the Greeks immeasurable pain and sent to many noble souls of heroes to Hades," Annabeth finished for him.

Percy smiled. "Didn't know you knew Ancient Greek."

Annabeth shrugged. "I'm hardly fluent, but I know the heavy hitters. I always preferred --" she recited a few lines in Greek herself. Percy was biting the inside of his lip and the tops of his cheeks had gone a bit pink.

"Tell me about a complicated man," Percy translated. "Muse," his gaze bore into her as if she were the muse, "tell me how he wandered and was lost when he had wrecked the holy town of troy, and were he went, and who he met, and the pain he suffered on the sea."

He rested a hand on her face, brushing her cheek with his thumb, before pulling her in. The kiss was soft, curious, almost romantic. She hummed as they pulled away from each other.

"I always thought you'd be more of an Odyssey girl," he said when they pulled away.

"What does that mean?" She asked, ready to be teased or insulted.

Percy just leaned back against the couch. "It means I think you have good taste and correct opinions," he said.

Well, he'd certainly figured out the right things to say to get her into bed.

Annabeth crawled onto his lap, straddling him, before pushing her loose blonde curls back and away from her face. Percy's hands settled on the backs of her thighs.

~*~

That Iliad thing only worked like ... 40% of the time. He couldn't believe it'd worked for her. But Percy should have guessed she'd know at least some of the classics. It was the kind of thing kids in their position got taught. It still worked though. And now he had Sweden's sweetheart back in his lap, short skirt, bare legs, grinding up against him.

"Can I touch you, princess?" He asked.

She nodded, and Percy's hand slipped under her skirt and pushed her panties to the side to get at her cunt. He smirked a little. Oh his little Iliad stunt had worked.

"Do you -- ah -- want to take them off?" Annabeth asked. "Or do you just think I'm so hideous you prefer if I keep my clothes on?"

He'd asked her to keep her gown on last night for at least the first round. It was deep, royal blue, strapless, glittery, and it was driving him wild all night. He asked her to ride him in it, and she had. It was an image Percy would never forget, even if they had ruined some of the inner layers of fabric.

"God, no, Annabeth," Percy said, pulling her in for a kiss. Hideous? Even as a joke it was an outrageous thing for her to say. "I just like messing you up. Getting you wet and rumpled. I like making this perfect princess do a real walk of shame back to her castle."

Annabeth's cheeks were flushed, but that might be because he'd found a spot that had her back arching, and had her grinding her clit against the heel of his palm.

"I'd have to be ashamed first. And I don't walk to my castle. I have a private jet," she said.

"And a callous disregard for the environment," Percy teased.

"I'm too important for business class," she said. But that was where her teasing ending. She pitched forward towards him, her lips pressing against his neck as she kissed and nipped at the skin. "Percy, talk to me," she whispered in his ear.

"Talk?" He asked.

"Talk dirty."

Percy panicked. He usually had a little dirty talk up his sleeve, but he'd used it all up on his little walk of shame spiel. He was, in reality, painfully earnest and romantic. It made for a great wedding toast, but not for dirty talking a hookup.

She spoke ancient Greek. What were the odds she also knew Spanish. Pretty high, he figured, probably pretty high. But ...

"[You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen,]" he tried in a lusty tone. He'd spent his years in New York learning a more Latin American accent. It pissed his pretentious family off, but the Spanish lisp simply wasn't very sexy in his opinion.

"I like that," Annabeth said. "Am I supposed to know what you're saying?" She asked.

"No, that's part of the fun," he said. Thank god.

He went on. There were some dirty things in there, like how he planned to eat her out, and how he loved being inside her. And then that slipped so quickly into praising how beautiful and smart she was. How happy he was that she was here. How he'd wanted her for years. How she passed every expectation.

Corny and painfully honest shit like that, until she was gasping his name, thighs trembling, and getting impossibly wetter around his fingers. He simply kissed her as her orgasm finished, before slipping her panties back into place, swiping his finger over her now-covered cunt, to make sure they were a proper mess.

Annabeth was breathing hard in his lap, her gray eyes fixed on his. He expected her to say something. Something witty and maybe a little mean (he liked when she was mean. If she bullied him enough right now, he might just cum).

But she just leaned forward again, and captured him in a hot, desperate kiss.

~

"Should I return the favor in Swedish?" She joked between hot kisses.

She'd settled down into his lap, grinding her ruined panties against his clothed hard cock. He needed her, she could tell. She'd given him head this morning before they parted ways and before The Sun exposed their hookup. She'd become well acquainted with what a desperate, needy Percy looked like.

Really, she wasn't going to speak Swedish to him unless he asked. She knew it wasn't the hottest language out there.

She hadn't meant to, but she'd set Percy up for failure, and herself up to be insulted.

"That's alright," he said. A good start. "It makes you sound like a muppet." Horrific ending.

Jokes about meatballs and flat pack furniture? Fine, respectable even. The Swedish Chef? A joke she heard enough at her all-girls boarding school.

Annabeth frowned and got off his lap.

"Wait --" he said. She just stood and walked away from the couch, choosing to instead snoop around his room while she decided what her next move was. "Annabeth, I'm sorry. That was too far."

"It was," she said.

There was a large, blue velvet box on his dresser. She knew what boxes this size usually held. She opened it. She knew it was the Prussian Diamond tiara that belonged to his aunt, but she played dumb.

Annabeth held up the tiara (carefully). "How many other princesses join you in here?" She asked.

Percy stood and walked over to her. He took the tiara out of her hands. "It's my aunts. My cousin asked me to make sure it made it to the event so she could wear it, and then she canceled. Said she had some punk concert at a Berlin leather bar or something."

The Spanish princess was so much cooler than she was.

She thought Percy would move to put it back, make sure this heirloom of his country stayed safe, but instead, he placed it on her head.

"You're the only princess, I promise," he said. "Sorry for making fun of you and your national language," he said, before kissing her gently. "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings like that."

Annabeth decided to forgive him, and pick up on their little game.

"It doesn't seem like you respect my country very much," she said, the confidence in her voice returning.

"I do," he promised, pressing his body up against hers, and pressing her back into the dresser behind her. He buried his face in her shoulder, kissing whatever skin he could find.

"Prove it," she said. "Bow."

She felt a slight shift in Percy's demeanor. He was going to yield to her, and just like that, too.

Percy stepped back, held his back straight, and dropped his head quickly.

"Better than that," she said.

He rested his forearm across his torso, before bending at the waist.

"Lower," she instructed. He hinged at the hips. Still not right. "Get on your knees," she told him. Percy dropped.

He watched her from his spot on the floor, big green eyes empty of anything but desire. She would have fun with this, she was sure.

Annabeth unbuttoned her shirt before tossing it aside. Then her bra. she shimmied out of her skirt, and then dropped her panties, kicking them towards the pile. She left the Spanish queen's tiara on. Annabeth had always liked breaking the rules, and she had never been a fan of Percy's aunt.

Annabeth hooked a leg over Percy's shoulder, getting his head between her legs.

"Please," Percy begged.

Annabeth smiled. "Go ahead."

~

Annabeth was wise enough to return the tiara to the box before Percy tossed her on the bed to eat her front to back. She'd never had anyone play with her ass in any way, so when his tongue slipped back there ... well, she was surprised he enjoyed it so much, and really surprised she enjoyed it so much. Annabeth was also pretty sure Percy nearly came from rutting against the sheets as she came on his face a third time.

"I lied to you before," Annabeth said with a giggle as Percy washed his face and mouth before she finally let him inside her. "My dad is furious about the pictures, and demands you marry me to preserve my honor."

Percy stepped out with a smile on his face. She'd peeled his clothes off at some point, so he was all tattoos, muscle, and hard cock.

"You enjoyed that so much you're going to marriage trap me Bridgerton-style?" He asked with a grin.

Annabeth pulled him back into bed. "I just might have to. Where did you learn how to do that?" She asked.

Percy paused and tilted his head side to side as he decided what to say, before landing simply on: "Gay sex, mostly."

Annabeth offered a shocked, open mouthed smile. "Oh!" she said.

"Is that okay?" He asked, twirling a curl around one of his fingers.

"Perfectly fine," she promised, "I just didn't expect you to be so frank."

"Frank and I did do that a lot," he said. She didn't know who Frank was, or if he was even real, or just a character he made up for the joke. "You're sure it's fine? Being with a bi dude?"

Annabeth giggled. "I went to an all-girls boarding school, Percy, I've had gay sex too." More than straight sex probably.

"I had a feeling you and Tristan McLean's daughter weren't just very good friends," he teased.

"Well, duh," Annabeth confessed. She and Piper were very good friends now. College was a different story.

Annabeth rolled onto her back and reached a hand out for him.

"What is it, princess?" He asked.

"You've been very patient," she said. Percy nodded. "Do you want me to blow you or do you want to fuck me?" She asked, offering him the choice.

Percy crawled on top of her before kissing her. He'd made such a sweet submissive, and she wondered if she could draw that out of him more. She'd be willing to bet it wasn't uncharted territory for him.

But he seemed different now. He held her wrists in her hands and pinned them over her head.

"Oh," she whimpered. Percy smirked down at her, as if to say gotcha. How he'd clocked her submissive streak too, she couldn't be sure.. But it was all an added bonus. The government wanted her to find a husband. She really just wanted a talented switch to take the edge off at the end of the day. She figure out romance some other time.

With each passing moment, Annabeth became more and more sure she needed to marriage trap this man, Bridgerton-style.

But while he rocked himself inside her, he started speaking Spanish again. So many sweet and lovely things about how beautiful she was, how much he adored her, how long he'd desired her. She might not have to marriage trap him. She might just have to date him, old school royal-on-royal style.

She'd confess to speaking Spanish in the morning. Right now, she just wanted to know what he said to her when he wasn't worried about winning their little games.

[materialsscienceandengineering]

3D-printed blood vessels bring artificial organs closer to reality

Growing functional human organs outside the body is a long-sought "holy grail" of organ transplantation medicine that remains elusive. New research from Harvard's Wyss Institute for Biologically Inspired Engineering and John A. Paulson School of Engineering and Applied Science (SEAS) brings that quest one big step closer to completion. A team of scientists has created a new method to 3D-print vascular networks that consist of interconnected blood vessels possessing a distinct "shell" of smooth muscle cells and endothelial cells surrounding a hollow "core" through which fluid can flow, embedded inside a human cardiac tissue. This vascular architecture closely mimics that of naturally occurring blood vessels and represents significant progress toward being able to manufacture implantable human organs.

Read more.

[post-futurism]

Hackers, scholars, artists and activists of all regions, races and sexual orientations consider how humans might reconstruct themselves by way of technology

When learning about internet history, we are taught to focus on engineering, the military-industrial complex and the grandfathers who created the architecture and protocol, but the internet is not only a network of cables, servers and computers. It is an environment that shapes and is shaped by its inhabitants and their use.

The creation and use of the Cyberfeminism Index is a social and political act. It takes the name cyberfeminism as an umbrella, complicates it and pushes it into plain sight. Edited by designer, professor and researcher Mindy Seu (who began the project during a fellowship at the Harvard Law School's Berkman Klein Center for the Internet & Society, later presenting it at the New Museum), it includes more than 1,000 short entries of radical techno-critical activism in a variety of media, including excerpts from academic articles and scholarly texts; descriptions of hackerspaces, digital rights activist groups, bio-hacktivism; and depictions of feminist net art and new media art.

Contributors include: Skawennati, Charlotte Web, Melanie Hoff, Constanza Pina, Melissa Aguilar, Cornelia Sollfrank, Paola Ricaurte Quijano, Mary Maggic, Neema Githere, Helen Hester, Annie Goh, VNS Matrix, Klau Chinche / Klau Kinky and Irina Aristarkhova.

Available here

[cxndiedvi0lets]

Looking for ways to spend your Violet Harmon or Murder House fall or just simply looking for entertainment? Here's a list for you. 🍁🎃👻

Twilight

Twilight was a film adapted based on the book series where a girl that goes by the name of Bella Swan who moves into forks and falls for an attractively mysterious guy who turns out to be a vampire.

Violet might like Twilight because it shares somewhat Tate and Violet's dynamic where Violet moves into a new neighbourhood and falls for a guy with a dark secret and well vampires.

Gorky Park

Gorky Park follows a story of a detective who finds 3 bodies with their identities gruesomely erased from them and buried in the snow as a COLD case in Gorky Park. The detective figured the practice was done by a professional only to be tangled into a web of political corruption.

This may have encouraged Violet to get the house for her morbid curiosity as in the pilot script, Violet was curious to the morbid stories down the basement. Unable to unlock the basement, the house was sold for her to explore it.

Beetlejuice

Beetlejuice follows a story about a deceased couple who haunt their house to scare new residents. The deetz family moved in, and the couple that failed to haunt them decided to get help from a poltergeist who went by the name betelgeuse, also known as Beetlejuice. However, Betelgeuse antics had escalated, and now a living girl with a fascination for the macabre and initially struggles with her dysfunctional family known as Lydia Deetz befriends the ghostly couple and helps them to get rid of betelgeuse.

Im sure Violet would relate to Lydia Deetz on a personal level due to their feeling of being alienated by their dysfunctional family and interest in the macabre.

The Addams Family

The dark, humoured series follows a dysfunctional macabre family, alienation, familial bonds, and embracing one’s unique identity, much like Violet's own struggles with her sense of self and her complicated family dynamics and resonating to Wednesday's melancholic yet resilient character.

Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix is reflected in her parallels to Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy, and Luna Lovegood. Like Harry, Violet feels isolated and misunderstood while confronting the oppressive forces in her life. Luna represents acceptance of individuality and the struggles of indifference, mirroring Violet's own struggle with identity. Meanwhile, Draco's internal conflict, stemming from his family's dark secrets and expectations, adds another layer of complexity as he grapples with loyalty and morality.

Extra: Hogwarts was built after Harvard, which may be one of the reasons why Violet wanted to go to Harvard before not only because it was a largely commended and known school but her appreciation for art and it's architecture just like her appreciation for her house because "it's got soul".

NO, I PROMISE I DIDN'T ADD THIS BECAUSE OF MY OBSESSION. (clearly... 😇 and I'm getting paid for this job so...)

NANA

The series follows a romance between two girls who were both named NANA who met on the same train to tokyo. However, their relationship is jeopardized as the harsh realities of the adult life.

Violet could be seen reading the mange NANA #1 in the series.

Buffy the Vampire Slayer

Violet's affinity for the darkness would enjoy this series along with the vampire aspects and took place in LA. The Rosenheim Mansion (Murder House) also made an appearance on the series in Buffy the Vampire Slayer Season 4: Episode 4: Fear itself.

Chilling Adventures of Sabrina

Violet has a whimsigothic element and has an affinity for macabre elements as mentioned. Sabrina struggles with finding her own identity due to her witch heritage, friends, family secrets, sense of rebellion to social norms, and chaos in her life, which Violet could resonate to.

Wednesday

As mentioned previously for films referenced to the Addams Family & Gorky Park, Violet may enjoy this series that has a touch for coming of age, struggling to fit social norms, family secrets, murder mystery, and so on...

X-Files

X-Files is a series of special agents that investigate the unexplained, also known as the x-files, and previously was a popular meme to the illuminati. Violet's affinity to crime and murder mystery may enjoy this just like Wednesday and Gorky Park.

The X-Files also featured the Alfred Rosenheim Manor (Murder House) in the X-Files Season 6, Episode 6: How the Ghost Stole Christmas.

Please do not repost, reblogs are appreciated, and do not use my works and claim it as yours. For donations: send details in dms.

[mimi-0007]

First Lady's education.

Mrs. Barbara Bush graduated from Yale University, where she was a member of Kappa Alpha Theta, with a bachelor of arts degree in Humanities and earned a Master in Public Administration from Harvard Kennedy School as a fellow with the Center for Public Leadership

Mrs. Hilary Clinton--ellesley College years. In 1965, Rodham enrolled at Wellesley College, where she majored in political science. During her first year, she was president of the Wellesley Young Republicans.

Mrs. Laura Bush--- Born in Midland, Texas, Bush graduated from Southern Methodist University in 1968 with a bachelor's degree in education, and took a job as a second grade teacher. After attaining her master's degree in library science at the University of Texas at Austin, she was employed as a librarian.

Mrs. Michele Obama--‐he majored in sociology and minored in African-American studies, graduating cum laude with a Bachelor of Arts in 1985 after completing a 99-page senior thesis titled Princeton-Educated Blacks and the Black Community under the supervision of Walter Wallace.

Mrs. Jill Biden--- Biden has a bachelor's degree in English from the University of Delaware and master's degrees in education and English from West Chester University and Villanova University, and returned to the University of Delaware for a doctoral degree in education

Mrs. Melanie Trump--- Melania Trump didn't receive a college degree in design and architecture at the university in Ljubljana, Slovenia, which her biography in the Republican National Convention program claims she had obtained.

[beardedmrbean]

JERUSALEM (AP) — An American biochemist whose research has helped scientists make inroads into treating coronavirus and HIV has won this year’s Wolf Prize, a prestigious Israeli award in the arts and sciences.

Pamela Björkman of the California Institute of Technology won the prize for “offering new hope in the fight against infectious diseases,” the Wolf Fund, which awards the prize, said Monday.

Björkman’s research “unlocked the secrets of how the immune system identifies and battles pathogens, developing game changing approaches to combat some of humanity’s most formidable viral enemies,” the fund said.

Eight others also received the state-funded prize, which has been awarded annually for 47 years. Many of the award winners have gone on to receive Nobel prizes.

Björkman grew up in Oregon and studied at the University of Oregon, Harvard and Stanford before moving to Caltech to begin teaching in 1989. Her research focuses on how the immune system identifies invading pathogens. She has broken ground, the fund said, in how scientists understand T-cell recognition and immunization strategies for HIV. T cells are white blood cells that help fight off diseases.

Since the COVID-19 pandemic, she has worked on developing a new strategy to design immunogens that trigger certain antibodies against coronaviruses.

“Pamela Björkman’s work provides a glimpse of a new rational design strategy for future vaccines to deal with humanity’s greatest immunization challenges,” wrote the fund.

This year’s prize in architecture was awarded to Chinese architect Tiantian Xu for her work in rural China, which the prize committee said “transformed villages throughout China economically, socially, and culturally.”

Xu studied architecture at Harvard Graduate School of Design before returning to China, starting her own firm and working on a number of public projects that have kickstarted village economies, the fund said. They include a bridge connecting two villages separated by a flood, factories for tofu and brown sugar and renovating abandoned stone quarries.

It lauded her “pioneering approach to rural development — one that contrasts with the sweeping, uniform strategies that characterized China’s urban expansion.”

Other recipients of this year's award include Jeffery Dangl of the University of North Carolina, Jonathan Jones of the Sainsbury Laboratory in England and Brian Staskawicz of the University of California, Berkeley for agriculture.

Also receiving the prize are professors Jainendra Jain of Pennsylvania State University, Moty Heiblum of Israel's Weizmann Institute of Science, James Eisenstein of Caltech in physics and Helmut Schwarz of the Technische Universität Berlin in chemistry.

Past laureates include astrophysicist Stephen Hawking, artist Marc Chagall, conductor Zubin Mehta and musician Stevie Wonder.

[nova-reaper-universe]

Ok can you tell us more about Connie on your au? How is the dating? Where does she go?

Basically, she’s in high school right now and will be going to a prestigious university called the University of Toronto next school year for political science. It is kind of a debate of which Ivy League to compare UofT to, but I say it’s Canada’s Harvard. While most universities in Canada have different difficulties of getting in based on the major, UofT has very high standards for most of it’s majors if you want to go to the main campus (where the architecture is very good). I DO NOT GO TO UOFT, I just went to a school that had like a lot of people go there (most people got accepted to another campus not the main one due to the difficulty of that). She gets a very big grant from the school because she’s been a diplomat before and therefore is more valued with her skill set than any other person her age, Steven would probably be in the same situation if he hadn’t outright denied his school from giving him money, because his dad is rich and all. Connie, however, couldn’t decline because tuition is 1) way more expensive than Steven’s and 2) probably going to put an unnecessary burden on her family, so she just took it.

As for the dating, it’s great! Steven is in therapy so he knows that Connie isn’t his missing piece and he’s okay with that. When Connie heads to university, Steven will visit her A LOT, since she’s in dorms (because downtown Toronto) and Lion is happy to make the trip as long as he isn’t outside (noisy big city, overstimulates him and you do NOT want a grumpy lion who can teleport in that situation). Steven doesn’t like the environment of downtown either because ✨autism✨, so they go somewhere NOT downtown for a date. Also I decided after thinking a lot that Steven is probably going to need glasses because he wiped his eyes A LOT when he was a kid, so they would make jokes that the roles are now reversed in their relationship, as he is the socially inept nerd with glasses, while she is the very social one without glasses.

[meyhew]

Omg you were in Boston? I went to uni there I will love that city until my dying breath. Tell me everything about your trip!!!!!!! And yum halloumi!

yeah we were there for a couple of days!! i’ve been before (i only live a couple hours away) but it’s usually just a day trip to somewhere specific. this time i was with some friends and we went to the library. it’s SOOO stunning i wanted to just sit there and never leave. my friend spent an ungodly amount of money on trinkets at newbury comics. we bought a few books from trident. i forget the name of the place but halloumi was also on newbury street and it was delicious. ugh. i took them to the common because i just love it there and the novel i’ve been working on is set around boston (and a few key moments take place at the park) so i wanted my friends to see the places. took a walk to the charles and just took it all in. spent a day in/around harvard square for my friend’s novel research. it was a very chill trip honestly i enjoyed it a lot. i loveeee boston in the fall i think it’s such a gorgeous city. all the art and the architecture makes me feel insane. inshallah one day i will live there, at least for some time

where’d you go to school? a good chunk of my novel is set at BU but we didn’t have time to venture out there

[everyepisodeofallymcbeal]

S1 E1 - Pilot

Maybe I'm saying this as a millennial (born 1993, or 4 b.m. -- before McBeal) but there is something so... specific (?) about watching 90s TV. The 4:3 ratio of old TVs, the colors, the quintessential geometry of 90s TV hair. Ah, the 90s! What a time to be alive: smoking in restaurants, I didn't know what a credit score was yet, it was the end of history!

Also, the SOUND! The sound of these shows is so appealing. I'm not talking about the music (at the end, we had 3ish minutes of a woman's voice soulfully wailing over a piano) but literally the production/mixing of the dialogue. Typically, I find myself watching Netflix/etc. with subtitles on so I don't miss a line of dialogue. But the sound balance in Ally McBeal comes across crisp, loud, and again, a distinct feature of 90s TV production.

On to the episode...

---

Amidst the Frasurbane aesthetics of the late Clinton years, we meet Ally. The pre-opening-credits sequence (see previous post) shows us a young Ally in love with her boyfriend Billy as pre-teen paramours. Their relationship lasts from youth to law school at Harvard. After a year of law school, Billy decides to transfer to Michigan to get a spot on their law review; in doing so, he breaks up with Ally.

In present-day Boston, Ally quits her job at a law firm due to a senior partner's sexual harassment. To feign innocence, the senior partner (whomst I'll refer to as Mr. Mustache because I do not remember the character name) claims to have OCD, which compels him to squeeze women's butts, and uses this sham diagnosis to avoid punishment. Upon learning of this injustice, Ally immediately quits the firm. While walking out the door and onto the sidewalk, she bumps into an old friend from law school, Richard Fish (did I mention she went to Harvard?). This friend immediately offers Ally a job at his new firm, Cage & Fish. I love a plot point like this in a TV show. I get it, you need to set up a back story in 10 minutes or less, then get on to building characters and relationships. It can't be purely logical and reasonable. But it also sounds like this is how boomers and white-collar Gen-Xers got jobs before application portals and AI resume screening.

Cage & Fish is not like other law firms, they're a ~fun firm~. Mostly what makes them ~fun~ is the gender-neutral bathroom. And Richard Fish is shown to be obsessed with making money. That detail is used in a flashback as a joke, but like... you went to Harvard Law, I already assumed you didn't have morals and enrolled there to maximize your income slay. The gender-neutral bathroom detail I knew about Ally McBeal (the show not the woman) before watching, as a concept that has floated around in pop culture.

I'm not sure how I feel about the gender-neutral bathroom. Not due to any gender issues, but because of the architecturally open floorplan layout of the bathroom. Everyone is hyperexposed to every sound, smell, and splash of their coworkers' excretory varia. It's also a little upsetting to think about how this concept would be even more controversial today due to transphobic culture warriors creating the fake issue of bathroom usage. I love to be distracted by cultural conflict instead of building class consciousness!! How about you? Sorry, back to the episode. Wait, no, one last comment -- if a show today tried to have a gender-neutral bathroom on it, you'd have Jiminy Bumfuck from East-East-South Tampa pausing his episode of the Joe Rogan podcast to Google "Ally McBeel address" to try and mail Calista Flockhart a poorly-made pipe bomb. Maybe the loss of shop class in high school curricula was a good thing? Jiminy Bumfuck, of course, was encouraged in this venture by an X (née twitter) post from M4rjori3 T4yl0r Gr33ne. And if this post is ever used in a court of law, you should know that my newly diagnosed OCD causes me to say outrageous things for attention and I would never besmirch a lawmaker under my own volition! Now back to the show.

Ally starts at Cage & Fish, and is introduced to her assistant JENNA MARONEY. Ahem, let me try again. JENNA MA- ok, let me do this one more time. She's introduced to her assistant and star of TGS with Tracy Jordan, Elaine, played by Jane Krakowski. Elaine is very good at her job, and straight up should be a lawyer. Instead, she's Ally's assistant, staying on top of every case and all ongoings at Cage & Fish. She takes her job seriously, is literal to a fault, and very annoying. We didn't have the language for this in the 90s, but she clearly has autism. And VERY curly hair! But mostly autism.

Also working at Cage & Fish, and the emotional crux of the show, is ALLY'S EX, BILLY THOMAS. He's supposedly a very good lawyer (even though he went to Michigan (Ally went to Harvard, in case you didn't know)). Something I loved about the scenes between Ally and Billy were their joint usage of wispy bangs. Ally has the classic 90s wispy bang, with 4-9 sandy-brown tendrils bouncing across her forehead. Sometimes those tendrils get pushed up or to the side, to show that she's serious--or more likely as a continuity error. It's also so refreshing to see Billy with a wispy bang too. His hair doesn't really know what it's wants to do, so it just sort of comes forward and sits there to frame his face but remind you he's still young doesn't have it all figured out himself. Metaphor alert!

Ally is still desperately in love with Billy. Which is complicated by the fact that Billy is now married, and his wife Georgia is a lawyer at another firm! Georgia confronts Ally at her apartment about how they both love Billy and hate each other. Ok, sure, that seems normal. It's so confusing sometimes to be a girl, I guess. I hope that by the end of the series they can work it out on the remix.

Why is she in love with Billy? In the (admittedly) brief time we've known these characters, we don't learn much about Billy or his supposed charms. All we know is that he has a strong jawline, wears suspenders in the office, and I guess is a good lawyer. We have evidence that their relationship was built not on shared interestsor compatibility, but purely time. Speaking of time, how old is Ally McBeal supposed to be? Calista Flockhart was 33 at the time the pilot aired. Before I even looked up that fact, I assumed that they were in their early 30s. Billy would have broken up with her around age 23/24. It's been at least 7-9 years since you have SEEN or HEARD from this man, and you fall in love again at first sight? Ally, you don't need another dusty lavender skirt suit, you need THERAPY.

Ally has a roommate, Renee. Boston rent is expensive, but come on Ally, you're a corporate lawyer; you can get a 1-bed on your income! Renee is also the only person of color who had lines in the episode. There's a scene toward the end where Georgia is in Ally's office, and then Renee comes in to seemingly bully Georgia (why do we pit women against each other!), and all three women are wearing suits in three distinct but deeply Clinton-era shades of beige-inflected purple.

Also in this episode, we see some TV lawyers get to work! And of course, practicing the law is never as straightforward as you think. Although the way they "win" the sexual harassment case, by secretly recording Mr. Mustache, probably isn't legal in Massachusetts, I do love to see women win! The second case is about a Playboy-esque magazine being sued for libel for printing a comic about a priest involved in an affair. The judge gets sooooo angry about the print media! And how they "stoop so low to sell magazines"! Ah, the print media, how quaint. I'm not a lawyer but I do like the inclusion of legal cases in TV shows. It's sort of like a logic puzzle embedded into the plot! I find that charming and yes I was more of an indoors recess kid, why do you ask?

While Ally tries to figure out life, love, and the law, we get a peek into her psyche through surreal daydreams -- a child-sized Ally sitting in a giant chair when she feels insecure in a meeting, or arrows shooting into Ally's chest upon Billy informing Ally of his marriage. This is fun! This is what the show is about. This puts us on Ally's side, makes us root for her even through her foibles and imperfections. The audience wants to see into the internal world of Ally, but as the mulit-camera, stage play style sitcom grew out of fashion in the late 90s, we wanted to know what these characters were thinking/feeling without hammy over-acting of, say, The Nanny, or saccharine emotional turns of Friends. These daydreams have a direct link to the use of 1-on-1 character interviews in mockumentary style shows like The Office of Modern Family -- to make obvious the internal worlds of the characters and serve as a punchline. The ironic and fast-paced tone of the show my keep us at arm's length, but Ally's fantasies invite us in just enough to make us empathize.

The politics of the show are a snapshot into the not-too-distant past: is sexual harassment bad or funny? Should Ally flirt with the potential clients to get their business? Isn't it funny that one of the potential clients iS A LeSbiAn?! There are two instances where "fat" is a punchline. You can't get too precious about the political correctness of a TV show from a pre-iPhone world. But I am looking forward to see how this point of view comes across through the advancing sexual and racial politics of the late 90s and early 2000s.

Overall I like the show! I like that Ally is a flawed hero. Which, yes, is a euphemism for annoying. The type of girl who would dominate a lunchtime conversation with tales of how "everyone" in her office is being "so dumb" but very quickly you understand that she is the villain in every story she tells. Otherwise, the show is pretty fast-paced and joke-dense. I'm not sold on some of the character relationships/details, but eh, the pilot episode needs to set up a lot in a limited amount of time. TV is supposed to be for turning off part of your brain and going along for the ride. I'm looking forward to watching these goofballs get along. It's clear that on Ally McBeal, nothing is black and white. Instead, it's these very 90's shades of charcoal and ecru.

---

I've decided to watch the show and write about it because I needed to hmmm feel like I have a goal to accomplish and use my brain so it doesn't turn to mush during this time of unemployment. I make no promises about the length or even content of future posts. Thanks for randomly reading this!

[demigodsanswer]

Percabeth teacher AU/Did they or didn’t they

((this gave me brain worms in the grocery store. Made them professors because that's my world))

During his master's degree, Percy had been given the salient advice to never sleep with another academic at a conference. Because you never know who might end up on your job search committee.

Had Percy listened?

Yes, actually. For eight years he'd listened to the advice, all the way through his Ph.D. and a good chunk of his temporary lecturer position.

And then, he stopped listening.

But in his defense, Annabeth (Doctor Chase now) was a beautiful young woman in a sea of eccentric old white people. He'd grown up with her, gone to camp with her, and he'd even taken her to prom. But then she went to Harvard, and he stayed in New York. Now they pretty much only communicated through likes on the rare Facebook or Instagram post. And, one night, through steamy glances across a Marriott ballroom, plastic cups of free wine in hand.

The decision to go home together was quick and wordless, but followed hours of talking about research, catching up on life, and making her laugh.

Annabeth even kissed him goodby in the morning.

And now she was on the other side a very impressive conference table asking him questions about his qualifications for Brown's open tenure-track job. Her presence kept him focused in the interview though. Working with Annabeth Chase would be an exquisite job benefit.

~

ten months later

Pollux watched them from the other side of the room. The Classics department wasn't a stuffy as most people assumed, but it certainly didn't have the gossip that the Drama department had. He worked across both, and often his work intersected with Annabeth's work in ancient architecture ("with an emphasis on Athens," she always added).

But Annabeth and Percy had made themselves the subject of gossip. And Pollux couldn't tell if they knew that.

When Percy's application had been pulled out of the pile -- a younger long-shot candidate who'd spent two years as a Lecturer at Wash U in St. Louis, had a good number of publications, and solid teaching philosophy -- Annabeth had asked if she should recuse herself.

"Do you know him?" Chiron had asked.

"Not well anymore, but we were friends in high school."

Minutes later, Travis had found her prom photos on Facebook with Percy Jackson still tagged. "He was your prom date? That's so cute."

Annabeth looked like she might bludgeon him to death with a priceless artifact and ship his bones to the British Museum for eternal punishment.

"Do you think it will affect your ability to be neutral?" Chiron asked.

"No, I don't think so," she said. And so she stayed on.

But she had been in strong favor of Percy since the moment he arrived on campus.

Now, they were sitting thigh-to-thigh whispering things to each other at the department "Saturnalia" party, utterly unaware of the several people snooping on them.

Pollux wasn't sure if they'd slept together before he'd gotten hired (unless they'd done it on prom night?), but he was squarely on team "they are sleeping together now."

~

three months later

Annabeth was sure she could maintain a professional and adult relationship with Percy. She'd indulged her high school crush for one (exceptional, blissful, wonderful, life-altering) night months before his application had come through, and that was it.

Well, her and Percy's relationship was certainly adult, but was hardly professional.

Sure, professors were allowed to date people in the same school, and even the same department. But Percy and her wanted to keep their relationship on the down-low until it looked less like Percy had fucked his way into a tenure-track Ivy league job.

Plus, Annabeth kind of liked the sneaking around.

Percy, as newest faculty, got stuck with the smallest office, and the only one with now windows. But it had it's perks.

It was the first nice Spring day in March, unseasonably warm, and Annabeth had celebrated with a cute, flowy dress that ended past her shins. One of her students had called it "light academia core." Annabeth assumed it was a compliment.

Dr. Jackson seemed to like it at least. She'd dropped by his office to offer him a ride home (to her home, but what did that matter?), and he'd simply pulled her inside, locked the door, and sat her on the desk. His hands were under it in seconds, and then, after a few "hello" kisses, his head joined his hands.

"I wanted to do that all day," he said with a smug grin as they tried to rearrange themselves after. It was six now. Most of their coworkers were gone, but who knew what undergrad clubs used classrooms in this building. And her students were nosy.

"I've got my own list of things I want to do to you," Annabeth said, tracing her hands up his bare forearms until the met the rolled up sleeves of his button-down. "So grab what you need and come home with me."

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Aaron Sibarium

Published: Feb 29, 2024

The chief diversity, equity, and inclusion officer of Columbia University's medical school, Alade McKen, plagiarized extensively in his doctoral dissertation, lifting entire pages of material, without attribution, from sources that include Wikipedia, according to a complaint submitted to the university on Wednesday.

The allegations implicate approximately a fifth of McKen's 163-page dissertation, "'UBUNTU' I am because we are: A case study examining the experiences of an African-centered Rites of Passage program within a community-based organization," submitted to Iowa State University's School of Education in 2021. More than two of those pages are a near-verbatim facsimile of Wikipedia's entry on "Afrocentric education," which is not cited anywhere in the dissertation.

Other pages lift paragraphs from well-known African scholars, including the University of Rwanda's Chika Ezeanya-Esiobu, while making small tweaks to their prose, such as reordering certain clauses or changing a "were" to a "was."

Some of the scholars McKen allegedly plagiarized appear in the dissertation's bibliography but not in in-text citations. Others, like Ezeanya-Esiobu, an expert on "indigenous knowledge" who has worked with numerous international agencies, including the World Bank, aren't cited at all.

"The passages you shared can definitely be classified as plagiarism," Ezeanya-Esiobu told the Washington Free Beacon. McKen lifts pages worth of material from Ezeanya-Esiobu's 2019 chapter "A Faulty Foundation: Historical Origins of Formal Education Curriculum in Africa," published in the Frontiers in African Business Research book series.

Columbia's research integrity officer, Naomi Schrag, did not respond to a request for comment. Iowa State University did not respond to a request for comment.

McKen, who holds a certificate in diversity and inclusion from Cornell University, oversees all DEI programs for staff at Columbia University Irving Medical Center, which includes Columbia's flagship medical school, the Vagelos College of Physicians and Surgeons, and is the largest campus of NewYork-Presbyterian Hospital. The center's DEI initiatives include mandatory "antiracism" training for faculty and admissions officers, as well as an expedited hiring process for minority scholars.

McKen also works with the Columbia provost's office, according to a fall 2023 bulletin announcing his appointment. That office oversees tenure decisions for the entire university, including the medical school. Columbia did not respond to a request for comment about whether McKen has oversight of faculty and doctors.

Before arriving at the medical center, McKen was the assistant dean of recruitment, diversity, and inclusion for Columbia's graduate school of architecture. His current role was created in 2021 when the medical center hired Tonya Richards as its inaugural chief diversity officer. The new position came as the university was embarking on an ambitious plan to address "structural racism" in health care, guided by a 100-person task force drawn from Columbia's four medical schools: the Vagelos College of Physicians and Surgeons, as well as the schools of nursing, dentistry, and public health.

"It is very clear that promotion of diversity or even the presence of diversity is insufficient to counter deeply embedded anti-Black racism," read the task force's 2020 report. "Our self-reflection and actions at this time must be focused on the elimination of racism in all aspects of our work."

The complaint against McKen, which was filed anonymously, marks the third time in one month that a diversity administrator at an Ivy League school has been hit with charges of plagiarism. Other complaints have alleged that Harvard Extension School's Title IX coordinator, Shirley Greene, copied paragraphs and tables from other scholars without proper attribution and that Harvard University's chief diversity officer, Sherri Ann Charleston, took credit for an entire study done by her husband. The allegations against both officials followed the downfall of former Harvard president Claudine Gay, who resigned after nearly half her published work was implicated in a plagiarism scandal.

McKen's dissertation contains some of the most extreme examples of plagiarism thus far. The 50-page complaint, which was submitted to Iowa State University as well as Columbia, outlines nearly 60 cases in which McKen, who assumed his post at the medical center last year, borrows passages from Africanists, education scholars, and diversity consultants without attribution.

One of the plagiarized authors is Kwayera Archer-Cunningham, a "change agent" and "well-being coach" who offers courses on "decoloniality." McKen lifts over five paragraphs from Archer-Cunningham's 2007 journal article "Cultural Arts Education as Community Development: An Innovative Model of Healing and Transformation," in New Directions for Adult and Continuing Education.

As with Ezeanya-Esiobu, McKen makes scant changes to the plagiarized text. One passage simply switches the order of two items in a bulleted list while keeping their contents identical, and without citing Archer-Cunningham's paper in parentheses.

The passages appear to run afoul of Iowa State University's plagiarism policy, which state that "it is a violation for students to reproduce another person's paper, work or artistry, even with modifications."

McKen did not respond to a request for comment. Archer-Cunningham, who founded the Brooklyn-based arts academy on which McKen's dissertation research was based, did not respond to a request for comment.

McKen also lifts a jargon-filled passage from LaGarrett King, a scholar of black education at the University of Buffalo who urges the "dismantling" of "white epistemic logic." King is not cited anywhere in the dissertation and did not respond to a request for comment.

Another paragraph cribs from a 2002 paper by Michael Adeyemi and Augustus Adeyinka, "Some Key Issues In African Traditional Education," published in the McGill Journal of Education. McKen never cites the 2002 paper, though he does include a different article by Adeyemi and Adeyinka—both scholars at the University of Botswana—in his bibliography.

Adeyemi and Adeyinka did not respond to a request for comment.

The complaint alleges that McKen plagiarized over 30 authors total, not including Wikipedia. While the allegations only cover his dissertation, McKen has published multiple academic articles, according to his Google Scholar profile, with titles such as "Black Men in Engineering Graduate Education: Experiencing Racial Microaggressions Within the Advisor–Advisee Relationship" and "I Am Because We Are," which explores "how African cultural practices can direct learning toward liberation."

In September, McKen outlined his DEI priorities in a news bulletin for the medical center. "Everyone here," he said, "is committed to doing the work."

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Since every single domain that underlies DEI - Feminist Theory, Gender Studies, Critical Race Theory, Queer Theory, Queer Studies, Postcolonial Theory, Intersectionality, Whiteness Studies - is academically fraudulent, it would be more surprising if every DEI commissar and apparatchik wasn't also a plagiarist and fraud.

[lboogie1906]

Second Lieutenant Robert Prince Madison (born July 28, 1923) is an architect.

He was born in Cleveland to Robert James Madison and Nettie Brown Madison. His father trained as an engineer but was unable to find employment in that profession. He had three younger brothers, two of whom, Julian and Bernard, joined the family architecture firm.

He attended East Technical High School in Cleveland, graduating with honors in mathematics and science. He entered the School of Architecture at Howard University but interrupted his studies to serve as a second lieutenant in the Army during WWII. He was a member of the Army’s African American 92nd Infantry Division and served in Italy, receiving three combat ribbons and the Purple Heart. In 1946, he resumed his architecture studies at Case Western University, despite experiencing racial discrimination from the dean of architecture, graduating with a BS in architecture. He was the first African American to graduate from Case Western’s School of Architecture, as well as the first to gain a degree in architecture in Ohio. He entered Harvard University’s Graduate School of Design, studying under Walter Gropius, and received his MS in Architecture.

He taught architectural design and site planning at Howard University as an assistant professor, before being awarded a Fulbright Scholarship to study abroad. He was the first African American architect to be selected for this scholarship. He studied urban design at the École des Beaux-Arts, Paris (1952–53).

He married Leatrice Lucille Branch (1949-2012). His life is the subject of the 2019 documentary, Deeds Not Words: Conversations with Robert P. Madison by Derek E. Morton. He published his memoir, Designing Victory (co-authored with the journalist, Carlo Wolff) in April 2019. #africanhistory365 #africanexcellence