#hey guess who has their laptop in decent condition

[volvolts]

its nice and warm in there so long as they hold on tight

[mymelodyheart]

Miles Between Us Chapter 1 ~Stories She Wrote~

PICTURE SOURCE

PART 2 OF  WONDERWALL SERIES

Hey guys, I'm back and thrilled to give you part 2 of WONDERWALL series, Miles Between Us. It is a continuation from my holiday ficlet, All I Want For Christmas Is You. If you haven't read the first part, I suggest you do if you wish to get an insight into Jamie and Claire’s history (Here is the link) Otherwise, this ficlet can also be read as a stand-alone.

I know All I Want For Christmas Is You ending was bittersweet, but it had to be done. Otherwise, there wouldn't have been a Part 2 in this series. I had to leave the story open to possibilities if it is to have a chance of growing. And besides, making this into a series allows me to take breaks from writing and refresh my brain in-between ficlets. So I hope this next part of the story will make up for leaving you hanging all these weeks.

Anyway, before you continue, I'd like to thank you for reading, commenting and giving feedback to my stories. They're all very appreciated even if I sometimes don't comment back. As a hobby writer, I always look forward to your response, and they spur me to continue writing. Without the readers, I wouldn't be here. So thank you for being part of my writing journey.

If you wish to read this on AO3, here is the link.

So now everything is said, without further ado, I wish you all happy reading. ❤️

 Previously ...

Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp and James Fraser met and fell in love during the Holiday Seasons. Unfortunately for their budding relationship, after two weeks of a whirlwind romance, Claire has to return to London to finish some work commitment that could take a year to fulfil. It doesn't help matters that Jamie's PTSD condition prevents him from visiting her as loud city noises can trigger panic attacks. They are both in love with each other and are willing to find out where their relationship will head to. But can they find a compromise to bridge the gap of hundreds of miles to give their love a chance?

    After sitting on her bed most of Saturday working on her laptop, Claire Beauchamp rolled her neck and stretched her back, her arms extending above her head. She flinched when her joints cracked. 

Over the past few days, her boss, John Grey, forwarded manuscripts and drafts from the author she was working with. She hadn't eaten anything all day, and her stomach was beginning to grumble, and her eyes blurry from reading.

She'd read so much in the past hours, she was practically cross-eyed, and the bridge of her nose hurt where her specs rested. Words upon words had sifted through her brain, but now the lines were beginning to blur together.

She glanced back down on her laptop and opened a file in her document folder, her eyes scanning through lines she knew by heart. She'd been going through her own work lately wondering if she had what it takes to be a writer. Someone who would give her an honest opinion ought to read it before contemplating getting herself a literary agent if she was to start a new chapter of her life and take that leap of faith in her dream career.

A sudden urgency took over, and she needed Annalise to read her work, like right now. Which reminded Claire, her friend was away with Willie, shopping and sight-seeing. He was staying over their place for the weekend for the first time since she and Annalise left Lallybroch. After declining their invitation to join them earlier, the loved-up couple left her to her work with the promise of dinner when they returned.

She was about to reach out for her cold coffee from the bedside table when Raiders of the Lost Ark's theme song blared from her phone. At the same time, a picture of her uncle Lamb appeared on the screen. He was wearing a high-crowned, wide-brimmed, weather-beaten fedora hat and had a lopsided grin plastered to his thickly stubbled face. Rugged, she thought, just like her favourite pair of distressed leather boots, and very Indiana Jones.

Smiling, she tapped the answer button and put the phone on speaker. "Uncle Lamb! Long time no speak!" 

"Sweetheart," he started in a deep familiar voice, "how are you?"

She frowned and pushed her laptop aside. Something was off. "Oh you know, same old ...just finishing work and ..." 

"On a Saturday?" he asked, cutting her off.

"Look who's talking."

He chuckled. "You're young. You should be out. There are so many things to do in London ...especially on a Saturday. "

Claire rolled her eyes but opted to change the subject instead. She wasn't ready to give her reason for working overtime nor share her future plans nor talk about the handsome Scot she met during her holidays. Not just yet, anyway. "So ...to what do I owe the pleasure of hearing your voice, dear uncle?"

"What?" he said gruffly, pretending to sound offended. "Can't I call my favourite girl in the world and check up on her?" 

She mentally sighed. Something must be up since her uncle never called. It was always she who usually phoned, and when he did call on a rare occasion, it was either because something had happened or he was in London. She dismissed the latter since she knew he was in Papua New Guinea. The next conclusion she landed on was his health but thought it absurd. Her uncle was strong as an ox, ate healthily, only smoked the occasional cigar and regularly went for doctor's check-up, a requirement in his job as an archaeologist travelling to remote places.

Unless. "You sound suspiciously chipper. Let me guess ...you met someone. There's a woman in your life." 

He coughed like he was choking on a drink. "No! Why would you say that?" 

Alright, he sounded repulsed by the idea enough. Or was that denial? "I don't know. You seem so ...how shall I say it ...unlike yourself. You normally skip the niceties and get to the point." 

He lets out an impatient breath. "Claire, darling, am I really that awful?"

"No," she replied, ignoring the ache in her throat. She missed their time together but tried not to make it apparent in her tone. He was a busy man, and the last thing she wanted was her uncle worrying. "You don't seem like you're rushing off to anywhere. It's rare you sound this relax."

"It's way past my bedtime already," he sighed. "And besides, work is on stand-by at the moment until we get the license to start digging on site. People here are so damn laid back, and nobody seems to be in a hurry to process the paperwork. I'm not about to hand out cash to speed things along even if bribery is rampant here."

"I see. So you're in Port Moresby then?"

"Yes. As soon as we have the license sorted out, we'll be flying to Lae first thing tomorrow. Hopefully, anyway." He cleared his throat. "Speaking of paperwork, I received an email from my lawyer. Your trust fund has matured, dear. I'll send you the details where to go to and who to contact, and maybe you can start planning your life. Perhaps take a sabbatical and travel with me if you wish."

Ah yes, the trust fund. 

After her parents died, everything they had owned was put into her trust fund by her uncle to secure her future. She'd already received a small lump sum when she turned eighteen, and the money had afforded her, though small and cramped, a decent rental two-bedroom apartment in London with high windows, which was premium in this expensive city. And Annalise, her best friend and roommate made enough money to help pay the ridiculous expensive utility bills. Her own wage just about covered the other expenses with almost nought left for savings, but she hadn't worried knowing there was money in place in her name. She was counting on it to support herself when she pursued her dreams of writing.

"About that, I think I'll let that sit in the bank for a while. It's not like I need the money right now, nor do I have the time to spend it."

"As you wish," her uncle replied. "And another thing I need to discuss with you ...South Lodge ..."

"What about South Lodge?" South Lodge should have been her family home if her parents hadn't died, and she knew it was a highly coveted property because of its historical significance. It was never put into the market for sale since her uncle thought it wasn't his place to decide. It was put on a twenty-year lease to a high profile politician, its payments going towards her trust fund.

"The lease is up, and the occupants will be moving out soon. Unfortunately for you, that information made it to the local news and you were mentioned as the legatee. So don't be surprised if you're bombarded with offers now that your name is out. I'm willing to bet, property investors and developers will be itching to get their hands on it."

Claire took off her specs and pinched the bridge of her nose. God, she hated adulting, paperwork and dealings with lawyers. Maybe she should just sell South Lodge and be done with it, so she could concentrate on her future plans. What do I need a five-bedroom house with one acre of garden in Oxford for? "I'll think about it, uncle. I just have a lot of things going on at the moment. I'm quite sure those things can wait."

"Of course dear."

"Thank you for letting me know." She thought of Jamie, and the Highlands and how much life was a lot simpler there. She really needed to double her effort to tie up loose ends in London and have a heart to heart talk with Annalise. Is her relationship with Willie serious? If not, her friend would have to eventually find a new roommate. After quickly glancing at her bedside clock, she realised they would be here soon and hopefully with a takeaway. Annalise did mention something about sorting dinner out tonight.

"And Claire?"

"Yes?"

"Your upbringing hasn't been the most ideal. Enjoy the money and treat yourself. Don't spend your life doing things that don't bring you joy."

She smiled. Her uncle must have had a rude awakening of some sort to sound so philosophical. Or probably, he did meet someone special. Either way, she wasn't going to push for any answers for now. She really needed to get out of bed, do a few stretches and have a shower before Annalise, and Willie arrived. "I'll try," she finally said.

"Good. I'll let you get back to whatever you're doing."

"Sadly, yes." She shut her laptop and got out of bed. "Take care of yourself, alright? And I'll phone you sometime next week after I've figured out our time differences." 

"Absolutely, sweetheart. Talk soon." 

"Love you, uncle Lamb." 

"Love you, too." 

She terminated the call with a swipe on her screen and rubbed her eyes. She'd been working for seven hours straight, and her eyeballs felt like they're made of sandpaper. Glancing at the corner table, she smiled when she saw Jamie's gifts. Willie had brought them with him when he arrived last night from Inverness. She knew Jamie was making up for his absence, but it couldn't be helped when there's the danger of his PTSD condition worsening in the city. To her delight and surprise, he'd sent her a leather-bound journal, a framed selfie photo of them together, driftwood bookends he made and a box of her favourite Lindt chocolate.

With a contented sigh, she made a mental note to call Jamie after dinner. And to ask her boss first thing Monday morning if she could take her work to Scotland the following weekend to surprise her boyfriend. After all, she was just taking her uncle's advice, and after the work, she'd put in the last couple of weeks, and the extra hours she planned to do the next few days, she deserved a little joy in her life.

..........

Claire leaned forward, and nervously examined her best friend's face. Annalise was hunched down, scrolling her laptop, tongue darting out as she read the paragraphs on the screen. 

What's that look for? Doesn't she like it? She couldn't tell. It was the first time she's showing her work to anyone, one of the stories she had written during her spare time before embarking a career as an editorial assistant for Dreamcatcher Publishing Company. She needed to hear her friend's opinion to know if she even had a small chance of becoming a writer.

Annalise took her sweet time, and Claire wasn't sure if her inscrutable expression was a deliberate act to prolong the suspense, or if she genuinely had no reaction to what she's reading. If it was the latter, Claire would definitely kiss her dream of being a writer goodbye. If it's the former, she's going to strangle her friend for making her suffer. 

She heard the door to the apartment open and close, followed by the sound of keys jangling and heavy footfalls, announcing the arrival of Willie. He'd stopped by to order some food at a local Indian takeaway while Annalise headed straight home to prepare the table for dinner. Instead of calling out to him, she held her breath for Annalise's response. 

Just when Claire was starting to accept her hope of being a writer would never amount to anything other than a pipe dream, she saw the reaction she impatiently waited for. Annalise's mouth formed a comical O, followed by her eyes' widening and random shallow sighs. 

Yessssssss! 

This was massive. Despite Annalise having seen works from established authors Claire had edited for, she'd never witnessed her friend looked this excited. Annalise simply couldn't hide her gobsmacked expression, even if she tried.

"Oh, dear Lord," she whispered, her gaze flicking to Claire and then back to the screen. "Why didn't you tell me you had this? I knew you wanted to be a writer, but this ..."

"So?" 

Annalise took a massive deep breath, her fingers almost shaking. "Oh my God, Claire." 

"Oh my God, wot? Oh my God good or oh my God, bad?" Claire asked, even though she already knew deep in her bones, what the answer was. But she desperately needed to hear the words.

"This is bloody good," she said, as she went back to a previous page, and reread it all over again. After a couple of minutes more, a slow smile started to spread across her face, as she stole a few cheeky glances over at Claire.

Claire knew she could rely on her friend to tell her the truth. If her work had been bad, friend or not, Annalise would have been forthright and told her the hard facts. Nevertheless, she tamped down her own growing excitement. "The question is though ...is it good enough for the mass?" 

Without hesitation, Annalise nodded vigorously, her blue eyes big as saucers. "Oh, Claire, are you kidding me? You really have no idea, have you? Of course, it is! I need to read the rest. Please tell me it's finished." 

Claire relaxed for the first time and slumped back against the headboard of her bed, relief soothing her wild heartbeat. "It's finished."

Annalise let out a whoop as she gripped the laptop tightly. "Oh my God! Give me everything ...I won't be able to sleep tonight if I don't read at least one more chapter of this story." 

"I've got ten more finished materials."

"Oh my God, oh my God! You're killing me. I want it all."

Willie poked his head by the frame of the doorway to her bedroom and eyed them suspiciously. She wasn't sure what he expected to find, but his eyes narrowed when he saw Annalise's flushed face. 

"What are ye both up to?" he asked, frowning. "Ye sound like ye're looking at porn on the internet." 

Annalise grinned and motioned him over. "Sort of." 

Willie hesitantly entered the room. "Sorry?"

"In actual fact, much better than porn ..." Annalise announced, smirking at Claire.

"Annalise!" Claire wheezed when it dawned on her, her friend must have been reading the sex scene part.

Annalise reached out and reassuringly squeezed Claire's hand whilst looking at Willie. "Take a look at this. Claire wrote it."

Annalise handed the laptop to Willie, and both of them earnestly watched his face to gauge his reaction. As he sat down on the edge of the bed and read, Claire knew he would be the real test. Willie being a bloke, she didn't expect him to have the same reaction as Annalise, but she hoped he would appreciate the storyline and plot. Claire already understood, if her story was going to be good enough to be published, its success would be based on women's purchasing power. If he liked her style of writing even a smidgen, then she would be laughing. 

Claire held her breath in anxious anticipation, and approximately a minute and a half later, she got her response. 

His eyes bulged out, and then the tips of his ears glowed with red. In all sort of ways, he was so similar to Jamie but yet so different. But there's no mistaking how vibrantly their ears always lit up when they're embarrassed. Or moved. 

"Kind of explicit," he commented hoarsely, before tucking a tongue into his cheek as if trying to find the right words to say. "But it is an intriguing story with great flow and interesting characters. It's no' the genre I would typically read, but the first few paragraphs of what I've seen so far are riveting. It makes me want to read more."

Annalise, enthusiastically nodded in agreement and waved a hand in the air. "There it is." 

"Ye have a gift, Claire," Willie added, eyes still fixed on the screen and working overtime as his focus became more intense. "The dose of mystery ye've woven into the lines is remarkable and intelligent."

She felt herself beaming in vindication. "Thank you." 

He briefly glanced up at her. "Now that I remember, Jamie did vaguely mention ye wanted to be a writer."

"That's the plan," she beamed.

"Good. Because if ye can produce something like this, then yer talent is wasted on editing other people's work."

"She's got ten more finished stories," Annalise piped in.

Willie arched an eyebrow at Claire and continued reading, and when he finished, he shook his head and let out a low whistle. "Is Jamie the inspiration for this story?"

Her face heated. "I ...ah ...wrote that years ago. And ...um, I've revised and edited it a million times in the past. I wanted Annalise to read it first and find out if it's good enough to be published."

Annalise grinned at Willie, still looking a little flush like she was having a physical reaction to the few lines she'd read earlier. "So what do you think?"

Willie didn't miss Annalise's excited reaction to the story. "It's verra good but I didnae realised graphic scenes affected ye so much. Ye're beet red!" 

"Only when it's very well written," Annalise smirked, taking the laptop from his hands and moving towards him to sit on his lap. 

Willie pulled Annalise closer and kissed her, and Claire sighed. It's both beautiful and terrible being in the presence of people, so in love. While she's ecstatic to see her best friend smitten and happy, it made her sad that Jamie couldn't be here with her. She missed him terribly, and it's only been a fortnight since she had last seen him.

After a few seconds of watching them unashamedly snogged in front of her, Claire clapped her hands, and they both immediately pulled away. "Right, that's enough you two. So, where's the dinner I was promised?"

Suddenly looking self-conscious, Willie promptly lifted Annalise from his lap, plonked her down onto the bed and jumped up, and Claire couldn't help but grin at him.

"Right on it," he muttered, before disappearing from her bedroom.

Annalise laughed and playfully shoved her shoulder. "Passion killer."

Claire ignored the jest. "So you really think I should publish my story?"

Her friend nodded excitedly. "Absolutely! You should have let me read it sooner. From what I've seen so far, you have good, solid material, and I'm convinced, when I read the rest, it will not disappoint." She stood up and smiled. "Come on, in as much as I'm all fired up after reading your story, I'm famished." She got up and left the room.

Instead of moving from her position, Claire stared at her work for a few seconds and just breathed. Although Willie and Annalise were sincere with their praises, she couldn't help but still feel nervous. This next step in her life could either turn out to be huge, or it could get her mocked out of a dream career she loved. 

Pushing aside her doubts and thinking of Jamie, she quickly compressed a copy of her story's file and sent it to him via email to read, hoping he would like her written work too. Who knew, maybe, after reading it, he would be as fired up as Willie and Annalise. 

After hearing the whoosh of the email sent, Claire launched herself off the bed to join her friends, looking forward to Jamie's reaction later and daydreaming of a future in Scotland with her love.

[currentfandomkick]

Miraculous Team and Batboys, end of Damian Grasyon day 1

Here’s what i have for the update

--

Marinette wasn’t surprised to see Lilia trying to talk to Damian in her seat. Or that he looked ready to kill her.

“And then Damiboo—“

“Hey Lila, I need to do more official welcoming committee things with Damian before class starts. We wouldn’t want him to get caught unprepared for any attacks at Dupont, would we?”

Before Lila could speak up Alya grabbed the girl’s arm and pulled her back to her lair in the back.

“C’mon, we don’t want him to get pancaked then miracle back—you know how much people that are used to it hate that.”

“But—“

“Oh sweet, no lecture today then,” Nino grinned.

Marinette almost rolled her eyes. “I know your haunts, I will get you on a semi-healthy sleep schedule.”

“I am an artist, we say screw sleep.”

“You can be nocturnal and have a sleep schedule Nino.” Marinette paused for a moment. “Or I will revoke morning delivery privileges.”

Nino stiffened.”Got it.”

She turned back to Damian, who held up his phone. “Did all of these really happen?”

Marinette looked at the attacks he had pulled up. “Yeah, just, don’t bring up that one,” Marinette pointed to the Siren video. “The survivors are in therapy and the victims don’t remember for a good reason.” She paused for a moment before saying, “And try not to bring up someone’s akumatazations, it’s a leading cause to re-akumatazation like with this one.” Marinette tapped the first entry on the page, Stone Heart.

Damian nodded, looking over at her once again before continuing his scroll.

“If you have any questions about this or school or classes, I can give you my number. No guarantees I’ll get back that moment, but usually that day. Commissions can eat up time… I’ll check with Sabrina if she’s willing to answer questions too.”

“The class deputy, correct?” Damian asked without looking up.

“Yeah, I’d ask Chloe but she’s in the middle of fighting the school on a few trip schedules for the class and well…”

“I cannot believe they want to cut our time in the gardens Adrikins, can you believe it! It’s ridiculous! Utterly ridiculous!”

Damian looked up at her as she sighed. “I’m pretty sure oil and water get along better than you two would.”

Damian nodded and—no she was imagining it. No way that expression happened.

“She’s more tolerable than the other one.”

Marinette hummed at that. “Chloe is the lesser of two evils at any point in time.”

“Oh shut up Dupain-Cheng.”

“Marinette, that isn’t very nice,” Adrien gently reprimanded.

Marinette rolled her eyes openly this time. “Its this or war.”

“Personally, I’d prefer war,” Chloe huffed. “But we have someone to dispose of first.”

“I mean, maybe she’s just got a condition? No need to jump down her throat dudette,” Nino added.

Marinette raised an eyebrow. “So what did she screw up on her timeline this time?”

Chloe huffed this time. “The same summer she was with Ali doing “delegation things” she was apparently being wooed by Gotham’s elusive ice prince.”

Marinette snorted at that.

She missed Damian’s reaction, but she doubted it was anything important.

“Okay, so are you all now in agreement that she’s lying?”

Chloe rolled her eyes. “Told you all Dupain-Cheng was right at the beginning, but did you listen? Nooo.”

Adrien sighed. “I really messed up at first, didn’t I?”

Marinette shrugged. She got why---rock, hard place, and really bad coping mechanisms but… “Kind of.”

“Dudette, thanks again for making sure we all still went into those competitions and stuff.”

Marinette nodded, watching others in the class check the document, minus those in Lila’s sight.

Alix looked ready to clock Lila from her place while Rose was a bit devastated on her end. She winced a bit at those responses. Lila still did deal some damage to the class over the years, even if she did mitigate most of the long term ones.

“Someone has to keep the class afloat.”

“Rude.” Chloe wasn’t glaring. Oh—Chloe was doing her brand of friendship with Marinette now. She’d need to be vigilant for possible Chloe-cling.

“We both know you’d sell most of us for a corn chip,” Marinette added, hoping it might put just the right amount of distance but…

“Obviously, only Sabrina and Adrikins are spared…” she was glad she wasn’t included. “though you’re a bag of corn chips.” Damnit.

“Settle down class, now…” with that class began and Marinette almost groaned because she had an impending civilian Chloe friendship, who is exactly the type to drag you around without listening to any objections.

Once classes were over Marinette checked her messages with Sabrina.

“Okay, so here’s my number and Sabrina’s, any questions you can message either of us. Sabrina is better for procedural things and responds a lot faster than me.”

Sabrina materialized out of thin air and puffed out her chest. “I am the superior organizer.”

Marinette mock-glared at the red-head for that. “You still mess up the joint class schedules.”

Sabrina huffed at her. “You’re the one that they tell everything to.”

“I listen, and follow up. You’re just lucky I forward you guys that monster schedule since you can’t be trusted without supervision.”

Sabrina pouted at that. “Its not my fault Adrien and Kim don’t update theirs.”

Marinette nodded along, wondering if she could escape soon. “Just talk to Kim—I know you hate his sport speak but just ask if he can show up and he’ll check his calendar—I made sure to train him on that before stepping down.”

Sabrina looked at her before going off to do just that, since he yelled something about a new competition and that meant an updated class schedule.

Marinette packed her things then, figuring that Damian was already gone.

“Have a good day Dupain-Cheng.”

If it wasn’t for Chloe being across the room, she would have rolled her eyes. However…

“You too Damian. Again, any questions and me or Sabrina can answer.”

He frowned at her as she stood to leave. Oh, the textbooks!

“The mint page in the orange folder should show you the easiest places to get the textbooks this late into term. I’m guessing you’re not the type to like having to hit the library for required materials, and you don’t look like the type to like sharing textbooks long term. If those don’t work, Sabrina has a pdf for transfers you can download once you get approval to use a laptop or phone in class from Bustier. The form is the second mint page I think, and don’t worry, she approves things like that in a few days.”

Damian nodded. Marinette wondered if she overwhelmed him as she left. Oh well, her classmates were busy and she still had to finish Ali’s commission before patrol or an akuma attack—it was too quiet.

She hoped Damian read over the safety procedures, and sent him a quick text to review those as an after thought as she sent him in English (She hoped she guessed right): It’s been too peaceful for Hawkmoth, and our attacks are usually once every two days.

He read it but didn’t respond. She rolled her eyes as she entered the bakery, noting that Zombie was gone.

“I’ll be upstairs!”

“Before you do, can you make more of your monstrosities? The daycare should be letting out soon…”

Marinette almost sighed. Almost. How much did Zombie have? Apparently all of it.

She rolled her eyes as she made her usual ‘sleep deprived’ set for the regulars and ran upstairs to finish up Ali’s commission. With any luck, she wouldn’t have to stay up all night.

She was almost done, just a few more details when the AkumaWatch went off.

Tikki gave her a look.

“I know, I know.” Marinette grabbed her things for school. “Maman, Papa, I’m going to the Library!”

“Don’t stay till closing this time!”

“No promises!”

She ran off a decent distance before ducking into an alleyway.

“Tikki, Spots on!”

--

Elsewhere Damian had escaped Bustier's "checking in" by taking refuge in the school's library and sent over the information he'd gathered from Dupont and the Ladyblog to Drake first. Who Todd located and then relocated at Dick's request to go over what they'd found and discuss possible investigation avenues into the miraculous and its users.

He didn't like the idea of the 'boogey-man' stories (according to Grayson) of the trinkets holding the power gods being a reality. Especially if the old stories from the League were anything to go by... According to legend, a pair of earrings were responsible for the Lazarus Pitts existence in the first place--and he was weary of the tales of the ring that wiped cities from existence, and the necklace that drove men to madness.

--

Hope you enjoyed, and thanks to everyone that’s been commenting and voting on this and the ao3 of the story. Sorry, but Damian getting intrigued beat out Lila exposure by Damian. Instead, we have Class Knows She Lies, but no action plan on that yet... May do various confrontations when we get back to school updates.

Here’s the question for the next update, since its battletime and I get stuck on those for a bit.

Two things: batboys invade the battle or show up at the end when the Miraculous Team are wrapping it up?

and any akuma ideas? I'm debating just having it be gigtitan or pigeonman if its light, or if we're going dark, then a little kid that's being starved for 'bad behavior' regularly possibly turning adults into food, and the Miraculous Team seen at the end both comforting the kid in turns while talking to the police.

light is just simple intro, dark is more a slap in the face for the batboys that this is not Gotham or the Justice League, and gets them to see the whole of the problem more.

@worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @littleredrobinhoodlum @northernbluetongue @kceedraws @pirats-pizzacanninibles @theatreandcomicfreak @daminett4life @catthhay @weird-pale-blonde-person @amayakans @chocolatecatstheron

[smuggsy]

“You’re overdue on this book and I want it so I’m tracking u the fuck down” sounds funky as a modern au prompt, especially if it was a younger sibling of one of them or a real obscure/hyperfixation of the reader(s). If you don’t want to write it, don’t worry! Hope you’re doing well

COLLINS / FARRIER AU. Okay, so here it is, poster-thingy included (couldn’t help myself).

The kind girl on the counter makes a face at seeing him approach, Collins can only guess what a pitiful sight he is: bags under his eyes, uniform in disarray, hair unwashed and an empty coffee cup on his hand. If he'd crossed paths with any of the prefects roaming around he would've definitely got an earful for it -- that's no way to present yourself as a student! Fix that bloody tie!

 Ah, that would've really been the icing of the cake. A real shitty way to end his day indeed.

 "I thought maybe you'd forgotten to notify me" Collins smiles, aiming at friendly conversation but coming out rather miserable, "perhaps you'd lost my ID number?"

 "No, I'm sorry" is all she says, genuinely sounding like she means it, and Collins knows she means it, so maybe he'd get lucky today.

 "Are you sure it's not returned?" he insists, and having a look around to ensure nobody's within earshot he leans in closer, "I can go get it for you, kill two birds with one stone, aye?"

 Collins looks at her name tag and puts on his most miserable wet-puppy face. It's no use trying to flirt at this point, it's the fifth time he turns up this week looking like a zombie from The Walking Dead and she's been over the counter every single time. The fact that he doesn't remember what she's called is clear evidence of his exhaustion.

 "Sally..." he looks up and puts both his hands together in sign of prayer, maybe even pouts a little, because who cares about decency at this point? "Pleeease?"

 She shakes her head at the screen with a frown.

 "I'm really sorry, I'm not allowed to give out students' personal details. I'll give him another call later, how about that?" She offers, and Collins lets out a sigh and nods pathetically, thinking it's a he, what a fucking twat.

 He's ready to turn on his tail and leave without the only copy of Crónicas de la Guerra Civil Española in the whole campus yet once again. Except Sally then shouts a warning, pointing over his shoulder to one of the tables behind, "I said no drinking -- for heaven's sake" she storms out of her seat to the two young girls.

 Collins doesn't waste any time, he stretches his hand over and turns the computer's screen towards him, sloppily fishes his phone out of his pocket and snaps a quick photo of it and puts it back in place before the librarian has even turned around. When Sally comes back making an exasperated face, Collins tries to walk away in the same tired pace he walked in and not give himself away.

 Outside, out of her field of vision, he checks the photo. Some idiot named Farrier, block D, apartment 201. A law student.

 Fucking superb. Bunch of self-centered pricks.

 He storms out towards the east side of the campus, praying to all the powers that be for a quick exchange of words and a successful retrieval. He only even needs to read four chapters, but he's got only two days to do so, digest the information and have a decent sleep to sit a decent test.

 Collins gets quite a few odd looks as he strolls into the hall and turns directly to the stairs. His sweater gives him away as a Humanities student but he's sure that's not what's getting him stared at. If he bumps into any seniors here, he's bloody done. They'll revoke his pass on account of his appearance. They're known to be a bit of a pain in the ass, the prefects from this block... Then again, it's not like he goes out at all. Wouldn't be much of a loss, really.

He can't hold back his rotten mood as he knocks on the blue door exasperatedly, eager to get this whole business over with so he can return to his dormitory, have a proper shower and put something in his stomach that isn't an energetic beverage.

 Ten seconds pass by and there is no sound coming from inside the room. He tries again, letting out a whine.

 Nothing.

 He's pushing his luck, but he tries on the doorknob anyway.

 Locked.

 He bumps his fist on the door a couple more times and he's short of losing it right there and then -- all the stress from midterms weeks about to come flooding out.

 "Fuck’s sake, I ain’t your bloody landlord Peter!" the door finally swings open, "I told you to get a dupli-- oh", and behind it is one of its room's inhabitants, wearing nothing but a towel over his hips and dripping water over the wooden floor.

 On any other day, Collins would've taken a moment to appreciate the sight before him, but today isn't 'any other day' so he goes straight to the point and pays that six-pack little to no mind.

 "Are you Farrier?" he barks. The stranger blinks, mouths something but makes no sound, taken off guard by his hostility, no doubt. "Are you?" Collins pushes.

 Now this manages to put a scowl on the guy's face, and he crosses two tattooed arms over his chest. He's built like a brick wall and it only manages to set Collins' teeth on edge even more.

 "Yeah, who's asking?"

 Collins hears himself let out a sigh.

 "Look, I need a book you have. Spanish Civil War, just give it to me, I have a test." He adds, feeling like his soul is leaving him and taking his eloquence along with it. His eloquence and his ability to make himself sound less Scottish for other people's sake.

 Collins finds he doesn't give a shit about other people's sake today. It's their problem if they don't understand his accent, so they should sort it the fuck out.

 Farrier smiles at him, at his extended expectant hand.

 Collins feels like a ticking time-bomb about to go off.

 "Have you got the book?" He asks another time.

 "What are you, the library police?" Farrier scoffs.

 "Gimme the fuckin' book, alright? You're way overdue" he snaps, his brain catching up with his mouth too late.

 (Although even later he finds he doesn't care).

 "Jesus mate, it's only a book" he turns around and disappears for a couple of seconds, when he returns he's no longer sporting that amusing smile and he looks Collins up and down in anger before putting the heavy paperback copy on his free hand. "Take a fucking break."

 Collins stumbles back as the door is slammed on his face.

 The sound brings him out of his reverie, and he blinks at the book on his hand, considering an apology for the briefest of moments before turning around and walking towards the stairs. By the time he's outside the rush of adrenaline is gone and there's a slight pain on his chest. Still, he pushes on until he's back at his own block.

 Should probably cut down on the caffeine...

                                                             *  *  *

 They meet again one week later.

 "Hey"

 When Collins has fallen asleep on his usual spot, a hidden table in a secluded corner of the History section of the library. The usual drill.

 "Hey, Spanish Civil War…"

 He jerks awake, somebody’s insistent hand on his shoulder.

 When he looks up Farrier’s staring him down, but Collins only realizes it’s him after he’s put his glasses back on and ran a hand over his drooling mouth.

 He checks the time on his phone, disoriented.

 “Yeah, they’re closing up”

 “Ugh”

 Just then, the lights over them go off, and Collins stumbles to his feet, knocking his book over to the floor and almost slipping on a pencil trying to get it back. Farrier strolls over the corner of the towering shelf of books and shouts: “Hang on!”, then he returns and gets Collins’ laptop under his arm and the backpack hanging from the chair as well, like he’s picking up his child from school.

 Farrier takes a step away but stops when Collins quickly starts running his hands over the table to clear the remaining balls of paper. Then he makes sure the chair is quickly tucked in place and bends over to check there’s nothing being left under the table.

 Farrier clears his throat.

 “Take your time” he says sarcastically.

 The remaining set of lights go off.

 “Shit” Collins mouths, running along now, “don’t think they heard ye”

 “You don’t say -- wait!”

 They catch Arthur at the door.

 “Blimey, boys. Almost left you!”

 “Sorry Mr. Cornwell” Collins grins, sheepishly.

 “Ah, Collins!” the old-man adjusts his glasses and leans over to him. “You again.”

 It sounds incriminating, and Farrier lets out a small laugh next to him.

 “Should get you a key, I should…” he mumbles as they pass him to get outside. Collins shudders and makes a sudden stop, causing Farrier to bump right into him.

 “Shite, forgot me ja--”

 “Well then, night to you gentlemen” but Arthur is already biding them farewell and very bent on returning to his own cozy and warm room. Collins doesn’t have the heart to stop him.

 He’ll make a run for it.

 He tugs at his bag, hanging from Farrier’s broad shoulder.

 “Thanks” he mutters under his breath, and Farrier hands him the laptop as well.

 “So, how was your test?”

 Collins ignores the question for a brief moment, as he puts the laptop inside the backpack and then puts the backpack on.

 There’s no reason to be a dick, he thinks. Except he kind of wants to be a dick to this guy.

 “Dunno” he retorts. He rubs his hands over his arms, only a thin shirt on, and nods in Farrier’s direction without actually looking at him. “See ya” he takes a step forward only to be stopped by that arm again.

 Sighing, he turns to look at him now, and Farrier’s undoing his thick woolen scarf, much to Collins’ dismay.

 “Your dorm’s further” he says, aiming to put it around his neck as well. That’s when Collins reacts, pushing his hands away along with the scarf.

 “What’s your deal?” he asks, nodding again in Farrier’s direction and feeling his nose starting to drip already. Couldn’t have been a coincidence, this guy turning round a corner and finding him passed out exactly a minute before the lock-down. It isn’t necessarily a bad thing, Collins knows, on the contrary: the library sofas aren’t comfortable at all, and the air conditioning is turned off at night.

 He’d have woken up with a cold and a stiff neck.

 “What’s my deal? What’s your deal, mate? You always this snappy?”

 “Fuck off, I’m not snappy” Collins says, and closes his eyes in defeat just a second after. “Maybe I’m snappy. I’m having a shitty semester, why are ye following me around?”

 As Collins puts his hands on his trousers’ pockets to warm them up Farriers quickly takes advantage and rolls the scarf around his exposed neck before he can stop him.

 “Well, you’re the prettiest guy I’ve seen in a while and I think you need someone to keep you in check ‘cos you clearly overwork yourself” Farrier quickly explains, shrugging like it’s no big deal.

 Collins blinks, taken off guard, and he steps back.

 “What…?”

 “Yeah.” he shrugs again, nonchalant.

 Collins has a look around but sees no-one except for a couple of pigeons and a curly-haired blonde running back to the cafeteria. Is there a camera hidden somewhere near? Is someone hiding inside that trash-can with a cellphone?

 “I like a guy in glasses, sue me.”

 Collins lets out a disbelieving laugh.

 “Okay, bye” he’s resolute to leave now, and Farrier doesn’t try to stop him this time. He catches up with him, though, openly grinning.

 “I’ll walk you”

 “Alright” Collins stops on his tracks and faces him. “You want an apology for last week, I’m sorry I was a dick, as I said: I’m having a shitty semester,” he takes the scarf off and feels the cold embracing him fully back again, and his nose is impregnated with that fucking cocoa axe deodorant. “Please kindly fuck off.”

 “So that’s a no to the date?!” Farrier shouts as Collins hurries away.

 By the time he’s back at the dorm he’s openly shivering, Farrier’s perfume is stuck in his shirt and he quickly takes it off and locks himself in the bathroom to have a hot shower and pretend what just happened most definitely was a figment of his imagination.

[rueitae]

don't even celebrate Christmas but the combo for December 25 is quite intriguing 😏

This is way late. I lost the original post and only remember the hitman/spy part. Maybe it was enemies to friends to lovers too? Sounds about right.

Roughly 2800 words. Read here on A03.

A Deal and A Dare

~~~~~

The world falls away around her, the shipping crates she hides between feeling like an enclosure rather than a single wall between her and the guard station. The clicking of her fingers across the keyboard narrows her focus on the job. Information from the factory downloads into her laptop, a green bar filling in across the bottom of the screen, inching closer to the perfect copy.

They’ll never know of her presence if she did it correctly. And Pidge always has a perfect extraction.

It’s her biggest job ever, hired to gather as much intelligence on Lotor as possible - the most reclusive man on the planet. So she’s huddled in a corner of the facility he frequents, near the shipping dock and the closest computer to her exit.

Her heart pounds through her ears, a smile stuck to her face - the rush of the job never gets old.

When the copy is complete, her hacker icon dances with fireworks on the screen.

“Bingo,” she whispers. Pidge enters lines of her exit code, erasing any indication of her presence.

She slams her laptop shut and stuffs it into her bag, draping the straps around her arms. The window above her is easy to climb to, and her escape is easy and undetected.

But her heart rate won’t go down until she’s safe in her air conditioned hotel room and the money for the job has been wired into her secure - and very private - bank account.

The summer sun beats down on her bare neck and for the first time she actually regrets cutting her hair to do field work like this. With her luck she’ll probably have a sunburn by the time she gets indoors. She tugs down on her ski mask for what feels like the hundredth time, making sure her face and hair are hidden at least.

Next paycheck, I’m getting a nice full body suit, she grumbles to herself.

Steam rises from standing water all over the docks, so Pidge pay no mind to the mosquito she slaps dead on the back of her neck.

Then nothing.

~~~~~

Pidge groans as a foggy awareness tickles the front of her brain. She lies on a soft fabric, arms clutching a fluffy pillow under her head. It’s serene, and for a few blissful moments it’s as if she’s back in her hotel room and catching up on sleep.

But… isn’t she on a job? Pidge doesn’t remember transferring the data to Honerva yet, or even getting back to the hotel.

Fear strikes her heart. Honerva is not so forgiving of a late assignment. More importantly - why doesn’t she remember walking back?

She moves her eyes in a flurry, searching her surroundings. Familiar items come into focus as she comes out of her sleepy haze, her computer, a duffel bag full of clothes and toiletries, and a drying swimsuit from when she made use of the hotel’s pool.

Her heart rate slows, but a feeling of wrongness hangs over her head.

She moves to sit up and investigate, but her legs and wrists refuse to separate. It trips her off balance and she yelps, the floor greeting her face with a loud thump.

Plasma cuffs hold her wrists and ankles together. The swirling magenta bands are stronger than iron and near indestructible. Pidge knows better than anyone, the technology is her father’s.

A knot of dread twists in her stomach as she realizes - that had been no mosquito bite.

Tranquilizer

“Mornin’ sleeping beauty.”

A male voice fills the silence, growing more clear by the syllable. He rounds the bed cautiously, a handgun lowered but ready. Pidge growls as the pieces of the puzzle come together. She’s been kidnapped by a sniper with enough skill to have tracked her not only to her job, but with the intelligence to know her temporary hideout.

She needs more information. Who is he and how did he find her? Why has he taken her? Who does he work for?

“You need something from me,” she guesses, remaining still, sizing up his demeanor. Why else would a sniper leave her alive if not for her information?

He wears a tight navy shirt, covering - but also showing off, to Pidge’s frustration - his neck and muscular arms. A utility belt is around his waist with equally snug pants, housing his holster and sheath for a knife. His face isn’t hidden, and wears an easy smile while his body looks as if it can react to any retaliation on her part on a moment’s notice.  

“Kind of,” he says as he holsters the gun. He pulls the hotel key card out of his pocket, flashing it at her between two of her fingers as he lazily sits on the edge of the bed. “I figured you’d be more comfortable in your own space to talk,” He leans in closer and she scoots back, but not enough as he hooks a finger under her facemask and rips it off her head, “Ms Gunderson. The nice lady at the front desk was able to tell me which room you were staying at.”

“I’d be more comfortable without these restraints,” she spits, testing the cuffs to relief some of her anger knowing full well they won’t budge. “Let’s get this over with and - hey, what are you doing?”

The sniper sets the key card on the bed and bends down, scooping her up like a sack of potatoes while she shrieks at him. “The name’s Lance,” he says as he drops her back onto the bed and sits himself at the end of it. “But,” his mouth curls into a smirk, his teeth are so pearly white they practically shine, “you might know me better as Red, mercenary services for hire.”

There are numerous ways she can respond to him. She can confirm that yes, she’s heard of him and his decent work reputation - and more infamous flirtatious one - on the Network. She can make a jab at it. She can deny it, keeping the information to herself, stroking his ego to make him talk. But she chooses neither, her heart beating wildly, still ascertaining what exactly this sniper wants with her.

“Why do you wear blue then?”

Lance has the decency to gawk in indignation. “Blue happens to be better camouflage then red,” he says hastily, arms crossed as he defends himself. “And I like the color blue.”

“But,” Pidge presses, thrilled to be in the captivity of a sniper with vanity. “You call yourself Red? Why not just call yourself Blue?”

He flicks her a flashy grin, running a hand through his brown hair. “Because I’m red hot with my aim and with the ladies.”

To Pidge’s consternation, heat rushes to her cheeks. His uniform is a bit distracting and she has first hand experience with his sniper skills. From what she remembers of Lance’s Network profile and how he acts now, he’s not rash; it’s all too inviting to relax.

But he’s still an assassin, and letting her guard down is an easy way to either get herself killed, or blackmailed.

“Well, I’m not into bondage,” she says casually. “So just tell me what you want from me.”

His jaw drops, eyes wide as saucers, sputtering, “I would nev- AGH!” He forgets that he leans on an arm with the other still in his hair. He falls off the bed and onto the floor.

Pidge raises an eyebrow. Such an awkward response from a self proclaimed - and documented - Casanova?

“Now we’re even,” she tells him with a huff.

Lance is to his feet quick, a testament to his profession, though his face is a red blushing mess.

Pidge snorts with a smirk, leaning back on the headrest of the bed, bound hands limp on her lap. “You’re living up to your name, but you’re nothing like your flirtatious reputation.”

He’s taken aback in indignation. “This isn’t a date,” he tells her. It takes a blink of an eye for his body to stiffen and to cross his arms. The professionalism and intimidation is spot on… if not for his fumbling at her teasing.

“I know you have information on Lotor,” he begins.

Pidge bites her inner lip, and hopes her face does not betray the renewed influx of worry in her gut. Her laptop is heavily encrypted, and there’s no way this… Lance can bust it. Still, paranoia is strong and she has a job yet to complete.

“And what if I do?” she counters vaguely.

Lance rolls his eyes. “You have a reputation, Pidge, and I saw you get the job done. Lotor doesn’t want to be found though, so I need you to hand it over to me.”

The pieces of the puzzle click into place. Lotor hired Lance to stop her from giving information on him to Honerva. Well, she can still throw him off.

“So,” she says with a knowing grin. “What kind of reputation do I have?”

He glares at her, not answering right away. “If I tell you, will you give me the information?”

Pidge shrugs noncommittally. Lance throws his head back with a groan of frustration.

“The Network says you have a 99% success rate,” he begins. “That’s wild for a hacker.”

Her nose twitches, annoyed at being reminded of her less than perfect record, though far and away the best one of her peers. “Information Retrieval Specialist,” she corrects. “Hacking is just what I do to get the information.”

“Whatever,” Lance dismisses. His brows furrow in annoyance. “You’re the best in the business and super reclusive.” He leans forward, scrutinizing her. “And you’re pretty.”

Pidge nods to each of his points, until the last, when her own eyes threaten to jump out of their sockets. “That’s not in my profile!” she protests.

“It’s not,” Lance agrees, pointing a finger at her. He has the audacity to look pleased with himself at her reaction. “But you are pretty cute.”

Her face is so hot it might explode. The only people who compliment her like that are her own family, not attractive men in form fitting clothing who have her hogtied on a hotel bed.

Oh quiznak, maybe she’d lied earlier.

She can’t decide whether to call him out on it or get on with the information on Lotor, but Lance does it for her. His face glows red and his mouth gapes, stammering, “quiznak. No - I’m not lewd or anything. This is strictly professional. I don’t usually do the kidnapping thing.”

Pidge frowns, concentrating on steadying her breathing. “Then why me? It’s not like I keep information in my head.”

Lance takes a deep and wanders over to the window. He inserts his fingers between the panels. Sunlight peeks through - sunset she guesses from the angle and orangish tint. Foreboding settles in her gut, she’s slept for far too long.

He refuses to look at her, resting an arm on the wall. “My orders were to take you out,” he confesses solemnly.

Pidge’s heart catches in her throat and she tenses. She’s not safe yet.

“But honestly, I hate the guy,” he continues, curling his hand into a fist. “And I’m sick of doing his dirty work. He’s got a lot of friends of mine under his thumb.” He looks her in the eye, gaze steely. “So I want the information to take him out, and I’d like your help to do it.”

Pidge grits her teeth, face warm with anger rather than embarrassment. “No,” she says quickly. “You’re breaking your contract, and you expect me to break mine to help you? I’d like to keep my reputation in tact.”

“I can make it worth your while,” Lance says, stalking back towards her. “Answer carefully; I have you exactly where I want you,” he threatens.

Well, he wants to negotiate rather than kill her, so maybe she can still talk her way out of this. Emboldened, she holds up her cuffed hands and says “On a bed?”

“No!” he squawks, backing up against the wall - as far away from her as possible. “You know that’s not what I mean!”

“Look, my client is someone I’d rather be on the good side of,” Pidge levels. “I have a career to think about. If you can’t offer me better than an apprenticeship and a high tech lab, then you’re out of luck.”

Lance grits his teeth and paces the short space between the bed and television. His eyes pin shut and brows knit together in inner conflict.

“Partnership. 60-40,” he declares. “I’ve got a warehouse full of tech that’s all yours. Not just sniper stuff, your kind of stuff.”

“My kind of stuff?” Why does a sniper need with encryption software and small tools to work on microchips and motherboards? Has she misjudged his intellect?

“I have a collection,” he clarifies, “a big sis in the Garrison, a mechanic friend, and a place large enough to hold it all,” he flashes her a grin as he leans over the foot of the bed. “You’d have your pick of equipment and I’ll take on your targets too.” He holds out a hand, close enough she could take it. “Just help me take down Lotor.”

Pidge chews on her gums, considering. A partnership is tempting, with Honerva she can only expect an apprenticeship for an undetermined amount of time, and probably limited access to equipment. To be in charge of her own lab so soon in her career is beyond her wildest dreams.

And to have a sniper at her call - a reputable one at that - is a bonus. Doing a little digging for him is a small price to pay.

She hums, keeping her relaxed demeanor though her heart bubbles with excitement on the inside.

“You’re not half bad,” she admits. There are precious few sniping spots at the docks so he must have made the shot from a very very, long distance. And to be able to find her hotel at least meant he has some street sense. He might be just what she needs.

She curls up her knees and rests her elbows on them, leaning forward, locking their gazes together.

His blue eyes are hardened from enough missions, he’s less likely to bail out of a tough job - he will take the tough shot. He’s easy to tease - entertainment for her.

“50-50 split,” she counters, pointing both index fingers at him. “And I live there.”

Lance curls the fingers of his outstretched hand. “I’d need some time to get ready. I only have one bed.”

Pidge grins. “You know, you’re a lot more flustered over this stuff than your reputation says,” she chides. “You sure my being there won’t deter any date nights?”

Lance stammers, retracting his outstretched hand in exaggeration, indignant. “I can bring a date anywhere. Bringing Lotor down is more important.”

Pidge sighs dramatically. She’ll have this sniper wrapped around her finger. “Look, if you’re serious about this job, you can’t have any distractions, so probably better if you lay low on the fake dating scene.”

Lance bristles. “It’s not fake! I have a legitimate good time taking girls out to parties. We have relationships. It keeps eyes off me for more underground reasons.”

Realization tickles in her brain. “Actually… it may not be a bad idea to gather information. Lotor hates witnesses, so the more of them there are, the safer we are.”

Lance smiles. “So that’s a yes?” he asks hopefully.

Wrapped around her finger and all to herself. “If you don’t mind flirting with me at the Union Gala next week.” She snickers internally. “You’re already most of the way there - though I usually prefer puns.”

Lance’s face glows bright red, but he steels his gaze quickly, it seems she’s used this jab one too many times.

“I’ll do you one better,” he says evenly. “If I can successfully woo you, we split 60-40,” he points a thumb in his direction, “and I get the 60.” He sticks a foot onto the bed and leans in. “I’ll prove my reputation isn’t just talk.”

Pidge scoffs. Lance may look nice physically, and his goofy demeanor charming, but there is no way she’ll actually fall for him. “I doubt it. You’re no Casanova - you’re a romantic.”

“Okay if we’re going to be working together, you tell no one about this conversation,” he says with an accusatory finger pointing at her. “I’ve spent years building this up - I’ve got a reputation to uphold.”

Pidge grins. Maybe this will be fun. She’s never had a partner outside her family before, and Lance seems like an entertaining guy - more personable than most who have their profiles on the Network.

She extends her hands, presenting him with what are technically his handcuffs. “You’ve got a deal, partner.”

[kamen-rider-zed]

Artiste et Muse Ch3

So yeah, this chapter kinda broke my heart to write, so fair warning, if you have emotions, you might want to get rid of them before reading this.

AO3

Nathanael rolled over, pushed his longer hair out of his face (seriously, what was future him thinking growing it out this long?) and rubbed at the knot in his neck. He would have much preferred sleeping in the bed, but Chloe had refused to let him in the bedroom even well after sunset. He made a mental note to never buy this particular model of couch once he and Chloe got out of this strange world, then pulled the blanket back around him and attempted to drift back to sleep. However, a small sound kept his consciousness from sinking back into slumber. It came only every few seconds, faint against the hum of the air conditioning and refrigerator, but it was enough to occupy his thoughts and force him to roll back over on the couch and investigate.

Chloe sat in the recliner opposite him with a lamp on beside her and her knees pulled into her chest, small sobs shaking her whole body. On the replacement coffee table in front of her lay an open book, the pages covered with pictures. Nathanael blinked to clear his vision and focused on the book. One of the pictures seemed to be of him in a button up shirt.

The wedding album.

Why was Chloe flipping through the album? She didn’t seem too keen on ‘reliving’ their wedding yesterday, so why…

“Chloe?” he said, though he wasn’t sure why he called out to her. She lifted her head, her eyes widening when she realized he was awake, then squeezed them shut and turned away from him.

“Leave me alone,” she whispered.

Normally, he would have told her off because she was the one who came into the living room where he was sleeping, but he remained silent, listening to her grieve over...what?

“Chloe, what’s wrong?”

“Why do you care?” she snapped.

An excellent question, but one he’d have to worry about later. He almost threw off the blanket, but remembering that he was still pantsless, wrapped it around his shoulders and padded over to the recliner. Chloe must have heard him coming because her head snapped up, her eyes widened, and she scrambled out of the chair and towards the bedroom door. Nathanael managed to catch her about the wrist and pull her closer, but she kept her head turned away.

“Chloe, talk to me. Why are you crying?”

“Again, why do you care?” She still refused to fully look at him and made several half-hearted attempts to remove herself from his grasp.

“I…” He sighed. He didn’t really know how to answer that. There was a reason he always left the words to Marc. Maybe...it was best to start with the obvious and go from there. “I...I’ve never seen you cry before.” She stopped pulling away from him, but still did not turn her head. “It always seemed like...you wanted to appear strong, so you never showed any emotion other than arrogance. Not to mention you hate me, so it has to be a big deal if you’re crying in front of me. And even though I don’t like you either, I’m not completely heartless, so please, Chloe.” She slowly turned to face him and he could just make out the redness in her eyes from the weak early morning light streaming through the windows.

She sniffed and opened her mouth a couple of times, but no sound came out. Without warning she wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his chest, allowing her sorrow overtake her. Stunned for a few seconds, he eventually returned the embrace, not sure of what else to do, and let her shake and sob in his arms. He chanced lifting a hand and petting her hair, which seemed to do little to stifle her tears, but stopped her shoulders from heaving with her sobs.

She mumbled something into his chest, and when he asked her to repeat it, he finally heard, “She’s not in it.”

“What? Who?”

She sniffed again. “Mom…” Her face curled up and a fresh wave of tears flowed down her face. He guided them both to the couch, wrapped his blanket around her, then turned his attention to the wedding album, which he pulled closer to him and flipped back to the first page.

Photos of Chloe, himself, the groomsmen, with what may have been Marc as his best man, the bridesmaids...was that Sabrina as the maid of honor? She and Chloe must have made up at some point. Photos before, during, and after the ceremony. And so many familiar faces. He saw the mayor standing beside Chloe, him standing beside his mothers. The Dupain-Chengs carrying a massive cake, Marinette and Adrien with two small children hugging their legs. An older woman who looked so much like Adrien...she must have been Emelie Agreste. Nino and Alya with cameras around their necks. Alix, Kim, Ondine, Max, Rose and Juleka, Luka, Kagami, Ivan and Mylene.

But not a single photo of Audrey Bourgeois.

(#)

After convincing Chloe to change and finally getting himself some clothes, Nathanael managed to drag her out of the house and down the street to what was, at least according to Alya, their favorite cafe. They sat across from each other, wordlessly swirling their coffee, trying to pretend this wasn’t technically their first ‘date’, and trying to pretend they were as familiar with their server as she was with them. The girl must have known them quite well, because she sensed something off and brought them fresh croissants ‘on the house for the newlyweds’.

“Is she dead?” Nathanael paused with his coffee halfway to his mouth at Chloe’s question, but didn’t answer. “Is my mother dead?” When he still didn’t answer, she continued, “You called Marinette before we came out here. I know you asked her about my mother, so is she dead? Is that why she wasn’t in…” She clapped her hand over her mouth and sniffed back her tears.

It was true. After sunrise, he’d called Marinette to get more insight on the Audrey situation, which was only possible because he’d had the foresight to ask Alya for the passwords to their phones and laptops in case they needed them. He nearly gagged when he saw Chloe’s number listed in his phone as ‘My Queen’, but chalked it up to the Chloe and Nathanael of this universe being sappy romantics.

“...no, she isn’t. She-”

“God, what kind of daughter am I?” Chloe murmured. “I was...almost wishing, hoping she was dead, just so she’d have a decent excuse for...for not being there.”

“Why were you looking through the photo album anyway? You said last night-”

“I know what I said!” She snapped, then glanced around at her outburst and took a deep breath. “I’ve...had this picture in my head of what I wanted my wedding to be like for years. Granted, it was always Adrikins at the end of the aisle, but...I just wanted to see how this matched up to my fantasies.”

“So…?”

“My dress was a tad lackluster for my tastes, but I didn’t really pay attention to most of the pictures after I realized...” Chloe met his eyes for the first time since they’d arrived at the cafe. “Why wasn’t she there? This was my wedding. Why couldn’t my own mother be there for my special day?”

Nathanael rubbed at the back of his neck. How to sum it all up… “Marinette said...when we first started dating, Audrey immediately hated me. She said you deserved better, that dating someone like me was...how did Marinette put it?...’beneath a Bourgeois’. This...Marinette told me this led to our first big fight as a couple.”

“Let me guess,” Chloe mumbled, propping her cheek on her fist and stirring more sugar into her coffee. “You wanted me to cut off my own mother.”

Nathanael shook his head. “The opposite, actually. You wanted to cut her off.” Chloe froze and lifted her eyes. “I...I wanted to break up with you, because…” He tore off a piece of croissant and brought it to his mouth, but didn’t take a bite. “I...didn’t want to force you to choose between me and your mother.

“So we argued, you made your decision, and you ended up severing ties with Audrey. She moved back to America within the week and hasn’t spoken to you or your father since.” He shrugged. “Then a few months ago, you got mad at me because I looked up her address and sent her an invitation to the wedding. You wanted nothing to do with her, but I thought she’d at least want to be at her daughter’s-” he bit his tongue and sighed. “Yeah, I guess you know the rest.”

Chloe stared at him for a few seconds. He wanted her to have a relationship with her mother. He was willing to sacrifice his own happiness for her, and even after she’d made her choice, he still wanted to reach out to Audrey, to try? Her heart thumped in her chest in a way she didn’t appreciate, and she had to remind herself that this wasn’t her world, her future. She snatched up her own croissant and pulled the butter dish closer to her.

“Why do we keep talking like it’s us doing all of this? This isn’t us and this isn’t our world. We aren’t the ones all lovey dovey with each other, it’s the Nathanael and-” she gagged “-seriously misguided Chloe of this world.”

“Because referring to ourselves instead of saying ‘this world’s Chloe’ or ‘this timeline’s Nathanael’ makes the conversation go by quicker.”

“And we both don’t want to talk to each other longer than necessary.”

Nathanael slid his coffee cup aside and folded his hands on the table. “Alright, if you hate me so much, then why were you crying into my chest an hour ago?”

Chloe sniffed. “I needed emotional comfort and you were convenient. I would have preferred if Adrikins or Daddy had been there-”

“Or Mommy?” Nathanael interrupted.

Chloe dropped the bread knife and turned a gaze to him that would have made him recoil in fear if his time as Paon hadn’t steeled his confidence. “Low blow, Kurtzberg.”

“Oh, I can go lower.” He glared and smirked at her. “Kurtzberg.”

Chloe slapped her hands on the table, but this time she had no reservations with interrupting the other cafe patrons. “Hey, I’m the one in emotional distress here!” she hissed. “If you’re going to be an absolute jackass while I’m still processing that my own mother didn’t bother even RSVP-ing to my wedding then I’ll just-”

“What does it matter if she was there or not?” Nathanael countered. “You keep insisting that this isn’t our world or our future, but you get your panties in a twist over your fake future mom not coming to your fake future wedding? God, pick one, Chloe!”

Chloe opened her mouth, but soon shut it, her lips quivering. She lowered her gaze to the table and released a slow sigh. “I think...some part of me always knew my mother would never fully approve of me.” She sank lower in her chair. “That no matter how hard I tried to live up to her standards, I’d alway fall short one way or the other. I guess, this world kind of felt like proof. Even bringing someone home I lo-” She cut off the word, glanced to Nathanael, then back down to the table. “S-supposedly love, she…” A dry laugh choked its way up her throat. “Beneath a Bourgeois? Is that what Marinette said? My own mother was more concerned over the family image, than...than my happiness?”

Nathanael’s gaze and voice softened. “Hey, like you keep saying, this isn’t our world…”

“But it still feels so...appropriate for her. So...in character. Now that I think about it, what would happen if I dated someone she did approve of?” Chloe’s eyes wavered back and forth, as though searching for the answer in the space between her and the table. “Nothing would change. She might approve of someone like Adrien, but only because of the social advantage. It would be...it was…” Her eyes widened. “Just like her and my father, she only married him because of his political connections. It…

“It was never about love.”

It started small, the faintest glistening in the corner of her eye, the lightest tremble of her lips, the muted shaking in her ragged breath, but each action compounded and snowballed, and soon, whatever wall or barrier Chloe had erected to maintain her composure finally cracked and crumbled. She wrapped her arms around her middle and wept, her head bowed over the table and her coffee forgotten. Nathanael, surprised by his own actions, rose from his chair fast enough to send it crashing backwards, rounded the table, and settled his arms around Chloe’s shoulders. Her tears did not slow; the only effect his comfort had was for her to shift and wrap her own arms around his chest, and continue to wail into his chest. They sat like this for several minutes, oblivious to the staring patrons around them. While Chloe wetted his shirt with her tears, Nathanael’s mind buzzed with so many questions.

Why was he comforting someone he hated? Was it just to maintain the appearance of a married couple in this world? Why did Chloe feel so comfortable crying into his chest, seeking comfort from her enemy? What could have happened between them to create this world, this future? But most of all...

Why did it feel so right to hold her like this?

[baley146]

Linked (I.M pt.1)

Genre: Romcom with bad jokes Pairing: I.M/Changkyun (Hacker/College Student), You (Reluctant hero/College Student) Rating: F for fun Warning: Spin off of Wonho’s Wanted series, but no need to read that before reading this!

Summary: I.M. Part-time college student, secret world-class hacker. Meeting his match was only the beginning, since his rival just happens to be the last person he expected.

pt.1

Changkyun frowns at another line of cryptic symbols flashing across the screen. It’s all thanks to his ‘dick-head’ client Hyungwon, who insists on knowing the medical history of every millionaire in the country that Changkyun’s stuck to his desk instead of his comfy mattress. He’d rather not lament on what sort of wacky doctor Hyungwon is. He’s shady, and that’s all Changkyun cares to fathom at the moment.

Yet, he finds more distraction in the tedious online security system, meticulously guarding every private hospital in this country. But breaking down a few firewalls shouldn’t be a problem. After all, he is I.M, the legendary and terrifying hacker that can easily manipulate just about everything in the online world.

But this time, whoever wrote the protection programs for Seoul’s top three private hospitals successfully gave him chills. In a good way. 

A smile noticeably creeps onto his face. And he’s clearly more than a little excited for a daring challenge to finally show up.

Solving it will take a little longer than usual, and he’d love to indulge right away, except life as a college student doesn’t allow such a luxury. He’s got an unfortunate eight AM test tomorrow. And sleep is the wiser option for now. The fun will have to wait.

You were always pretty decent at turning people down unless it came down to your cousin, Yoo Kihyun. So when he asked you a favor on behalf of the nation’s top government agency, it became even harder to say no.

Those close to you knew about your notable talent in programming, which is something you now wish you didn’t have thanks to the outrageous anti-virus programs you had to write with your two hands. Still, this development is hardly a surprise considering your mother was a former CIA agent and your father still works for NASA.

Having early access to all sorts of cool gadgets somehow induced your transformation into what Kihyun calls a ‘benevolent hacker’. And it’s as stressful as it sounds, like what’s going on right now.

“But you’ve even saved our country from a nuclear war!” Kihyun’s voice rang proudly.

You sigh through the phone before slumping further into your chair. “I almost went blind from staring at a screen for so long, but I guess it all worked out.”

“We really appreciate everything you do, really.” He softens. “I know it’s tough, but hey, at least you’re getting paid.”

“I just want to live a normal life.”

“I know, I know.” Kihyun coos sympathetically. “This should be the last time. But…”

“But?” You could feel the hesitation through his silence.

“We’re looking at a pretty high-profiled hacker this time. And if they’re targeting private hospitals, they’re out for some pretty bad damage.”

Kihyun’s words linger with a tinge of frustration, and that struck you to realize the much shittier stress your poor cousin deals on a daily basis. The least you can do is comfort him a little.

“Well, the program I wrote for the hospital’s database should stay intact through tonight.” You suggest with a bit of optimism.

“That’s good to hear.” He sighs.

You switch on your laptop, nestling the phone against your shoulder. “By the way, any idea on the perpetrator yet?”

“Nothing solid.” He states. “But we do have someone on file who could be a possible suspect.”

That piqued your interest a little, and you wait for him to continue.

“You familiar with the hacker that goes by the name I.M?”

Your back stiffens, and the phone on your shoulder almost slips to the floor. Kihyun probably noticed your sudden silence, but you still had to let a few shivers run down your spine.

I.M. That name is more or less a legend to your ears. You knew that name. Well, anyone with the slightest interest in programming knows that name. Although your knowledge of him came from passing rumors, the stories are crazy enough to serve as a warning. Multiple cases of leaked government secrets are credited to his name. And just three years ago, I.M’s stints nearly drove a dozen smaller European countries into martial law.

No one knows how or why he operates, nor is there evidence of his identity. He’s like some lurking enigma from the deep, dark web, capable of sending the whole world on edge with a few clicks.

But to the average citizen, his existence is a debatable rumor. Only those with enough expertise of computers know the true extent of his destruction.

Fortunately for you, no trouble has stumped you yet. But if the opponent this time happens to be I.M, there may be just one conclusion: If encountered, do not approach.

“So…is that a yes?” Your cousin’s voice sounded hopeful.

“Um not really, I’m gonna Google him.” You swallow your lie, swiftly deciding against saying much for the sake of Kihyun’s sanity.

“Alright then, don’t stay up too late.” There’s a brief silence before Kihyun’s voice cools. “Thanks for the help so far, kiddo. Now get some sleep.”

Your eyes roll at his usual motherly tone. But he’s right; you need your sleep for tomorrow’s eight AM Philosophy test.

“Okay, night mom.” You sang, hanging up before Kihyun could reply.

Changkyun doesn’t regret taking Philosophy. It’s an easy A and all, but an eight o’clock midterm is kind of pushing it.

His phone buzzes against the night stand’s surface. Changkyun grabs it to shut off the alarm, but the screen displays a text message instead. A grin instantly finds his lips as evidence of sleepiness completely disappear from his features.

[Squishy Dumpling 7:00 AM]: “CHANGKYUN WAKE UP RIGHT NOW! IF YOU DON’T ANSWER IN 1 MIN I WILL CALL.”

Changkyun chuckles under his breath and pushes himself up against the headboard. What started as an inside joke lead to a stupidly endearing contact name. If only you knew about it; that would surely have your eyes rolling.

Seeing your promised text message already has him in a better mood. Yet despite being wide awake, he purposely waits to see if you’re really going to take this wake-up-call job seriously. Changkyun is nonetheless grateful for your proposed offer during last evening’s impromptu study session. After him claiming to have slept through several tests in the past, you were determined to stop him from sleeping through another one.

Indeed, one minute later, his phone starts buzzing continuously with your silly trademark flashing on screen.

He clears his throat, channeling his best dead-tired-college-student impression and takes the call.

“Hmm…hello?”

Changkyun’s voice is already deeper than most guys his age, but his range falls impossibly lower in the mornings. It’s amazing how that husky voice never fails to give you the jitters.

“Changkyun, stop it.” You sigh firmly. “I know you’re awake.”

“Hm? What makes you say that?” He drags on.

Your ear drowns in the vibrations of his voice. “I know you read my text.”

Changkyun lets out a groan that forces you to physically pry the phone away from yourself. “Five more minutes.”

“Changkyun, I’m not your mother.”

He lets out a convincing sigh. “You know, I was thinking, since I already have a ninety-eight in the class, I should just-”

“Changkyun!”

The boy almost blew his cover by chuckling out loud. “Kidding, relax.” He yawns. “I’ll go since you sound like you really want me to.”

You can practically see Changkyun with his proud smirk waiting for a flustered response.

“Obviously.” You return the distress. “Who else can I copy off the answers to?”

“Ouch.” Changkyun hissed. “Ice cold.”

“You’re old enough to handle it.”

Changkyun didn’t hold back his chuckles this time. He always knew one day he’ll meet someone sassier than him. Sure enough, here you are, serving that hot attitude right up at seven in the morning.

“What are you doing after the test?” He redirects the topic.

“Um…probably be at the library to finish some homework.” That’s a partial lie, since your real motive is checking on the condition of your program. If I.M really is the culprit according to Kihyun’s data, you sure need a recheck as soon as goddamn possible. And you’ll need the library’s generous wi-fi speed for that.

“Oh me too, wanna go together?” Changkyun’s voice interrupts your thought. You quickly swallow your hesitation, a bit unsure about fighting hackers with another person sitting by. But Changkyun’s harmless, as far as you know. “Sounds Good.”

Within an hour, you’re patiently waiting for the professor’s arrival in a mostly empty lecture hall. Just as you decide to glance around for Changkyun, a coffee cup suddenly lands on your desk.

“Morning sunshine.”

You turn your head away from the coffee to see Changkyun plop down in the seat next to yours. Seeing him this early had you wide-eyed for a good moment.

“Morning.” Your gaze returns to the cup before you. “I see you had time to get coffee.”

Changkyun shrugs. “I figured you’ll probably need some energy to, you know, copy my answers.”

You’re almost pleased with his comeback. “You know me so well, thanks Changkyun.”

He smiles back, taking out a few pens as the professor finally makes his entrance.

Despite the test being a generous three hours, you and Changkyun were out in less than one. As previously agreed, the two of you are now sitting across each other at your favorite spot in the library--second floor, back corner near the ancient Greek literature. You naturally favored this spot since it’s usually vacant, but most importantly, it’s where the wi-fi router is located.

Finding a spot like this was indisputably your primary task on your first day at college. You needed a distraction-free work space, not so much for your school work but for fighting what ever cyber crime Kihyun might task you with. Luckily, you found this holed-up library, ironically attached to the computer science department, and barely visible from the outside world.

You quickly grew attached to the place, to the point where you now work as a library assistant to gain unlimited entry into the facility. The only thing didn’t expect was to meet Changkyun, who, unbeknownst to you, chose to work here for the reasons that would never cross your mind in several life times.

It’s hard to put your finger on exactly what drew you towards this boy. Changkyun’s an odd ball. You knew that from his persistent suggestion to build a fort using the old, un-catalogued books from the back storage room. But you also knew he isn’t a complete scatterbrain when he translated an entire collection of Arabic poems into English, all on his own.

Which is why you sometimes question why he’s a biology major.

But you are no less of a mystery in Changkyun’s eyes, albeit a much prettier mystery. He initially pegged on the idea of having the entire library to himself and was clearly a little upset when he first heard a new co-worker is joining the staff. But when you came along, his mind changed instantly.

He couldn’t pinpoint the source of your attraction either. It could be your pretty eyes, but it could also be your natural sass which stumped him a few times. And there was that fascinating episode where you, a statistics major, somehow knew weirdly specific details about upgrading the library router’s firmware. And that made the wi-fi so much faster.

Curiosity aside, Changkyun got used to you so quickly that he doesn’t even mind hacking the government with you beside him.

“Can’t believe I got up this early for two free response questions.” Changkyun laments, his chin sinking into his palm.

You kind of agree. That philosophy test was stupidly easy, it’s almost a little insulting.

“At least you get to keep your ninety-eight.” You kept your response casual, unlike your fingers furiously navigating the three private hospitals’ websites you’re supposed to be guarding.

Fortunately, things are still in the green.

Changkyun hums in response, his face giving nothing more than a blank stare. A stark contrast to the feverish excitement he’s containing underneath that poker face. He didn’t think such an emotion still exists in him. But ever since last night’s encounter with such a daring little fire-wall, he’s feeling that nostalgic itch to tear it apart. Now with that stupid test out of the way, boy was he ready to indulge.

You felt unusually restless. Perhaps it’s the possibility of facing I.M, in which case, you’re completely screwed. But you found comfort knowing it’s barely ten in the morning. Even a legendary hacker wouldn’t dwell this early.

Except you’re wrong.

You flinch at a sudden dreadful shade of orange popping on your laptop display. And if it wasn’t for Changkyun’s presence, your jaw would have hit the floor by now.

Thankfully, years of nerve racking experience taught you to stay calm. You double check your VPN connection and drew in a long breath. It’s time for war.

Changkyun knows he’s being a little reckless, but if those DDoS attacks didn’t work last night, might as well change things up for once. He just finished a virus that can use a test run, and there won’t be a better opportunity than this. Within a few clicks, Changkyun eases back into his chair and began relishing the view.

You on the other hand, have both eyes glued to the numbers on your screen. Only a few precious seconds passed before you realized the blatantly obvious malware eating away your codes. That gave you a tiny bit of relief, because your specialty is, in fact, malware sabotage.

“You okay there?”

You sprang apart from your laptop and look up, meeting Changkyun’s curious eyes.

“You’re typing really fast.” He continues. “And loud.”

That’s because I’m fighting a cyber criminal who’s probably trying to take over the world. If only you could muse out loud.

“Oh, sorry, I got an essay for writing class.” You smile sheepishly. “It’s due tomorrow.”

Changkyun looks taken aback and covers his mouth. “You? A procrastinator?”

You would respond with something clever, but your attention falls back to suspending access of this intruding virus. You barely spare him a cheeky eye roll before immersing right back into your keyboard. Luckily, you were right on time.

Changkyun’s gaze suddenly flew back to his laptop. On the screen displays something he’s sure he hasn’t seen since his first time hacking the Ministry of Defense’s military records. The word ‘Obsolete’ flashed in the middle of his display, and for a good second, he almost didn’t recognize that word was meant for him. His features however, slowly lights up in nothing but fascination.

His virus just failed. Interesting.

Your eyes momentarily close to embrace this calm before the storm. If anything, this was just the first round of however many times this douche hacker decides to ruin your eyesight for the next few days. But you found some confidence in yourself, knowing your talent hasn’t failed you yet.

Changkyun admits he might have been a little cocky to assume his virus was enough to wrap things up. But at least he was right to be excited. This isn’t the usual business anymore.

“Are you okay?” You return, tending to a strange look of amusement on Changkyun’s face.

Changkyun almost couldn’t peel his eyes away from his screen. “Yeah just…” He takes another moment to finally absorb reality.

“I just watched a funny video.” His exhale turns into a chuckle. “How goes the essay?”

You sense the oddness in his response, but opted for a bright nod instead. “Making progress.”

Changkyun puts on a convincing grin of acknowledgement in hopes of easing you from further suspicion. The moment you turn back to your computer, he runs his bottom lip between his teeth, suppressing the ironic exhilaration scalding his ego.

Nothing in Changkyun’s career even came close to stopping his malware, not to mention this quickly and so seemingly effortlessly. Perhaps the government actually hired someone decent this time, someone possibly on par with his expertise. He’s almost tempted to abandon his task and track down this person instead. But it’s not wise to side track too soon. He’ll just launch his second attack for now.

DDoS. Malware. You can only dread what’s coming next. It’s almost as if Satan himself answered your fear as your computer screen glows orange after one meager minute of peace.

Your eyes flare up, and a flashing timer pops on screen like an apocalyptic warning.

Two minutes. That’s how long your program will hold up. And that’s how long you have to figure out and stop whatever is breaking your program. But that’s just a laughable ideal.

This quick, aggressive attack just about confirms your worst fear. I.M is behind this ordeal.

It’s amazing how you’re managing to stay intact in your chair, despite your heart rate racing faster than the milliseconds ticking away. In situations like this, there’s no time for regret. And walking out of this one alive meant one thing: run away.

You immediately connect your phone with your laptop, as subtle as possible to avoid Changkyun’s gaze. A few clicks later, you began transferring all three hospital’s database into your phone while wiping every piece of information from its online servers.

This is the last resort you once hoped to avoid. Your actions are just as illegal as I.M’s, but desperation left you with no other choice. You’ll definitely need to speak with Kihyun later.

An airy chuckle escapes Changkyun’s lips. Now this is a sight he hasn’t seen in a while. On his screen is a blank webpage without a single line of code in the back-end database. And to think that was all completed in no more than two minutes, he wishes he can applaud his opponent.

Changkyun closes his eyes, only to be met with that nagging temptation to seek out whoever’s beyond the other side of the screen.

Interestingly enough, that seems to be the only choice left.

Changkyun’s eyes flutter apart with a fervent gaze, one that matches the rising excitement in his chest.

He’ll have to notify Hyungwon there’s been a change of plans. He’s going hunting.

You spent a good two hours writing an email to Kihyun, choosing comforting words explaining that everything is in good hands. The classified information is with you and not the perpetrator, but it might take a few days before you can restore the data.

And you left out I.M’s name, and the part about keeping the targeted data on your personal cell phone. The last thing you’d want is for Kihyun to place you under some weird witness protection program for pulling such a reckless stint.

You proof read your lies and ended the email with a reminder to not call because you accidentally dropped your phone in the bath tub.

You sigh, hitting the send button before turning to stare at your locked down, encrypted and therefore useless cell phone. If only you knew it was going to become a digital safekeeping vault, you could have asked your mom for second phone.

For now you should just be thankful for getting out of this one unscathed. You lift your arms to stretch, then shutting your laptop when your phone suddenly vibrates against the table.

You peer down, curious as to who sent you a message when your eyes immediately widen in horror.

Your phone just vibrated. It shouldn’t even be powered on right now.

Several bright flashes fly past the screen, and a blue bubble with white text promptly pops up.

[201.50.514] Congrats. You’re the first one to escape.

The hairs on your body never perched so painfully.

[201.50.514] Good thing one of my bugs made it. It would be a total shame if I lost you completely.

You pick up the phone, hands starting to shake from the unbelievable display on your phone. The colors and design look just like a messaging app, and you know this is the work of a person whom you really should not have messed with.

You swallow and tap the screen, where a keyboard pops up, inviting your response.

[01101101] sorry who’s this?

Oh god. As if playing dumb will get out of this deep shit.

[201.50.514] hahaha alright, if you’re really asking then let me introduce myself.

[201.50.514] this is I.M

[201.50.514] and I believe you took something I want

A/N: Hi guys, it’s me, the most flaky author on this planet. There were some who requested an I.M spin off, so here it is after 10000 years! Thank you all so much for those who waited! And to lovely new readers, thank you for reading!!

[futuremrszainmalik]

#1 How You Meet

HARRY: You are working as a receptionist in one of the grandest hotels in Toronto, still not able to believe that you landed such a decent part time job. Well, one fine day, when you were working, your friend/colleague read out from her phone, "OMG! Harry Styles is currently in Toronto!". You turned around and excitedly said "No kidding!". At that point of time, you heard an "Excuse me" from someone at the desk. You irritably turned around, faking a smile, to none other than Harry Styles himself. You gasped. He said "Yeah. No kidding.". You put on a smile, trying to be as professional as possible and said " Good evening sir, how may I help you?" He greeted you with a good evening followed by a handshake. He said "I would like to book two separate rooms for me and my manager, who was supposed to be here already. " he rolled his eyes. "In whose name shall I book the room?" He handed out his credit card and said." Harry Styles". You smiled and repeated " 2 separate rooms for Harry Styles and his manager who was supposed to be here already. Aaand Done!" He chuckled. You smiled and then handed him his credit card along with the keys. "Do you need anything else? To that he cheekily replied " No, nothing except for your name?" "y/n y/l/n" He said " A pretty name for a pretty girl." You blushed and asked "Anything else, sir?" He replied, "Ah yes. I would also like to know if Ms. Y/L/N would be available for a dinner tomorrow night. Can you please check that for me?" "Please wait one minute. Sir, Ms. Y/l/n has responded that she is free tomorrow night." you said with a wink. He chuckled and gave you a card with his number and leaned in to give you a kiss on the cheek " See you later y/n" "See you later, Harry". You blushed.

NIALL: It was a busy Saturday at Starbucks. It was too crowded especially because of it's small size. Every tables were filled with people, well almost every tables. Luckily for you one table near the counter in the corner was free so you  went there and opened your laptop starting to complete the work that you had to do. You were so focused in the work that it took you some seconds to notice that some cute Irish accent from behind was asking you if the seat opposite to yours is taken. You said " No. It is free" and turned around and saw Niall Horan with an awful lot of food and coffee in a tray in his hand. You nodded and helped him to set the heavy tray in the table. Niall smiled and said "Thank you. I'm Niall", handing his hand. You returned the gesture and said " Its alright . And yeah, I do know you." He smiled " If it won't trouble you too much, can I ask another favor from you?" "Go ahead." "If you won't mind, can I sit in your seat? Cos that way I'm facing the wall and not much people will notice me." You smiled and said "Yeah. I understand." And you shifted your places. He asked "Soo.. What's your name?" ''I'm y/n y/l/n". The conversations went on for hours with him insisting you to taste the different food he ordered and you both jointly reviewing them, until he got a call from Paul reminding him its time for his rehearsals. You both exchanged your numbers and promised to meet again soon. Before he left the table, he leaned in and whispered "y/n y/l/n, I don't tell this to everybody, but you are one of those few people whom I don't mind sharing my food with." You giggled and said "I'm honored". He gave a kiss on your cheek and said "You should be, pretty girl, you should be." You blushed.

LIAM: "Perfect! This is absolutely perfect." You thought to yourself when the lady at the airport desk told you that there are no seats left for a flight to London. You had  to attend  a wedding in London. It wasn't just anybody's, wedding,it  was your bestie's sister's gonna kill you if you won't attend it. You had no idea what you were gonna do so you just sat in the waiting area of the international terminal, hoping something would come up. It was 3:00 in the morning and almost every one of the few people in the lobby were sleeping. Suddenly a cute little girl ran towards you giggling. But she fell down before she could reach you. You gasped and rushed towards her and picked her up and placed her in your lap. You hoped there would be no injuries and to your relief there were none. You calmed the crying girl after quite a long attempt. Then a tall guy who you identified as Liam Payne came running, shouting "Luuuuxxx!!!" He came up to you, gently took the kid from your lap and after a few minutes rocked her to sleep while singing melodically. And it worked, Lux peacefully slept in his arms. He whispered to you "Thank you for calming her, I was supposed to put her to sleep. But she wasn't having it today, so she ran away from me. I'm glad she ran in to you and not to somebody dangerous, say, a murderer." You chuckled and said "There's always that possibility. Aren't you Liam Payne? I'm a big fan of your music." He nodded and thanked you. "What's your name?" "y/n y/l/n" "That is a cute name. So when is your flight?" You then explained your horrible situation to him. He said "Hey! I have an idea. We have a private jet. Why don't you tag along with us? We are also going to London." Your face lit up when you heard this, "Seriously? Would it be too much trouble-because if it is, that's alright, I can find some othe-" He cut your babbling off with a kiss on the cheek and said "It would be our pleasure if a pretty girl like you joins us!"

LOUIS: You planned to take your little brother shopping and buy him something from the most expensive collection of Louis Vuitton. I guess you could say that, working as an Apparel Buyer there, has some advantages like a 50% discount (on special days, only). So today, on his birthday, you decided to abuse your discount by buying him something. But it wasn't as simple as that. He was extremely confused what to wear. His opinion about a shirt may change from it-looks-so-cool to i-haven't-seen-anything-as-horrible-as-this-thing-that-they-call-a-shirt within minutes. Your attempts to make him understand  that they look good on him failed miserably, every time. And he wouldn't even allow you to select him clothes, cos apparently he doesn't want a girl to select his clothes (ugh, don't ask.) So you have been sitting in front of the dressing room the whole time when he takes something, wears it, changes his mind, goes back, takes something else and repeats this cycle. You sat there reading a magazine not even bothering to take your eyes off from it, during the whole dressing-changing ruckus. So when you heard the door of the dressing room open up, you naturally said "Hey! It looks amazing on you. This is the one.", without even looking up. A different voice responded to it saying "Why, thank you. But it would have been more convincing if you actually looked at me before saying that!" You were startled and saw that the one who you complimented just now was not your brother, but Louis Tomlinson himself! You became speechless for a moment and then apologised to him, explaining the whole situation. He laughed and said, "So, y/n I will help you under one condition". "And what is that?" "If you promise that you'll go out with me this Saturday. So what is it gonna be, your choice?" He asked you very seriously and dramatically like a Quiz Show presenter. You laughed it off and said "We'll see. I cant guarantee  you anything, cos it seems that I won't be able to leave this shop for a few days.". He laughed and asked your brother to come nearer and asked about his interests. After half an hour, with the help of Louis, he found the perfect clothes and was actually contented with it. You were awestruck and you instantly pulled Louis into a hug. He smiled and kissed your cheek. Then he said "No problem, love. And, now about that date?" You smiled and gave him your phone number.

ZAYN: You looked at yourself in the mirror. You were in a stylish saree and were wearing the right amounts of jewelry and felt that you were finally good to go. It was one of your best friend's sangeet tonight . She was a Pakistani (living in London) so you and your friends chose to dress up in a desi avatar and were looking forward to a very fun and memorable night ahead. When you and your friends reached the venue, you were mesmerized by the beautiful venue. The cool night was lit up with a lot of festive lamps and lanterns. And let's just say that, it was the most beautiful night you have ever seen, but little did you know that it was gonna get better. It was almost the time for the ceremony to start, so you decided to go to the restroom  located inside a small room which was a bit far away from the actual venue. You went inside, got one last good look at yourself and when you turned around to return from the room, you accidentally bumped into someone. You mumbled an apology and looked up and found none other than the Zayn Malik  helping you get up. His jet black hair was brought out by the long shining black sherwani he wore. And boy, didn't he look too amazing. You both looked at each other  for a minute, silently. You broke the silence and said "I'm really really -" But he cut you off, staring at you and said "Beautiful! Really beautiful" You continued "Sorry. I'm really sorry! " He coughed and said "Uhmm... Well, its okay. No harm. No foul. I'm Zayn, by the way." You smiled and said "Yeah. I know you. And I'm y/n y/l/n"   He smiled and gave a quick nod. When you both rushed to open the door, you found that it was locked. You both panicked a bit. He tried to call his friends and you tried to call yours, but none of them were picking up. You assumed they might not have heard the phone ringing, all with the noise. After what felt like an hour, you both surrendered and quit your attempts. "Don't worry y/n, someone will come pick us up soon. And there's still a good 1 hour before the ceremony starts." You agreed, now calmed down. "So y/n how are you related to the bride/groom?" "The bride is my best friend. What about you?" "The groom is actually a distant relative of mine." That was the start of some interesting and fun conversations, discussing about everything. You understood him and how much different he really was from the bad boy persona that the media created. He asked you if you're alright every few minutes, making you feel humbled by his caring attitude. After about half an hour, one of your friends called you back , and agreed to come pick you guys up. And before you left, he hugged you and gave a quick kiss on your cheek before whispering into your ear "I had the best time bumping into you. Call me later?" You nodded. And felt an instant blush rise up to your cheek.

A/N: This is my first time writing. Sorry for any mistakes.

GIFs are not mine. Credits to the rightful owners.

[luxvitae]

Unsteady| Angst | Taekook

Word Count: 6.5k 

Summary: What happens if someone you love doesn’t love you back?You throw up flowers. And then die. Kinda dramatic if you ask Taehyung.

I | II

Love was such a foreign concept to Kim Taehyung. It had to be, no one wanted to fall in love anymore for the dangers that it had unfolded upon poor souls who fell victim to an unrequited love. But to biology major Kim Taehyung, people were just overreacting. There was no way flowers could develop in the lungs of a human being due to unrequited love. It was unnecessary and immature, he thought, to see people actually believe that Hanahaki disease used to actually exist, but the world around him was convinced, leaving him in the dust with his opinions.

“You know it exists, why else would we have learned about it back in high school?,” Park Jimin, a human psychology major, argued one day, frustrated at his best friend for being an absolute hardass.

“Because people in the 1960’s made such a big deal about it, why else? It doesn’t make an logical sense Jimin, unless you want to explain to me how flowers, plants that depend on photosynthesis to grow, can just magically show up in your lungs one day,” Taehyung argued, rolling his eyes when his friend just decided to ignore him.

“Besides,” the younger of the two said, not even caring if Jimin wasn’t listening, “if it did exist, why don’t we heard about patients and victims of the disease now? Surely something of that caliber can’t just completely stop happening.”

“Tae,” Jimin chided, “You know why it stopped happening. I mean look around, falling in love is about as common as you being a top; it rarely ever happens-”

“Hey-”

“Either way,” the shorter said, turning around to face his friend before he headed into his classroom, “Hanahaki isn’t heard of anymore because people are a lot more careful with who they fall in love with. It’s dangerous.”

Taehyung just chuckled as his friend waved him goodbye as Jimin turned into the lecture hall next to his own.

“Then why are you dating Yoongi?,” he yelled in a playful tone at the smaller’s retreating figure.

“I got lucky”

Sitting in his biology and anatomy class, close to snoring his brains out, Taehyung forced his eyes open and his ears to listen to his professor drone on and on about body systems, but he could feel himself slipping into an unconscious state. Not getting enough sleep had become something that came with Taehyung, sort of like him and Jimin; a package deal.

There was no damage in just a little power nap and it wasn't like his professor would see him, he sat in the top corner for a reason. But Taehyung knew if he dozed off now, he'd be put behind almost weeks of information worth knowing in just five minutes, so no he really needed to keep his ass awake and attentive. But, this was Kim Taehyung we were talking about, so of course he tells himself that he's just going to close his eyes for a few minutes but he wouldn't fall asleep.

Ten minutes later, he's rudely awakened by the alarm of the person sitting next to him, and just as he's about to scold the person for having their phone on, he realizes that the lecture hall is half empty and he missed the last ten minutes which were the most crucial because their professor went so off topic that he squeezed the lesson in the few remaining minutes of the class.

“Shit,” he whispered to himself, rubbing his eyes tiredly to get rid of any sleep he had left in his system; he still needed to go to lab.

Looking around his area to gather his things, he noticed a fairly large post it note stuck to the closed lid of his laptop. Picking it up to examine it further because goddamnit Kim Taehyung you forgot your glasses again.

‘Hey I saw you fell asleep and guessed you wouldn't wanna play catch up for two weeks just for dozing off for five minutes so I took some notes for you

-The guy that sits next to you’

Under the chicken scratch that was this guy’s handwriting, Taehyung found a sprawl of notes taken from whatever their professor could manage to talk about before he needed to rush off to his next class. Feeling amazed that decent people still existed in the world, the boy left the hall smiling and no longer tired as he made his way to the lab. It was rare that someone would do something inconvenient for the benefit of someone else and Taehyung was just thankful that fate had brought along a good samaritan to sit next to his sleep deprived self.

Making his way to lab, Taehyung looked over the notes and tried to make sense of his guy’s god awful handwriting. After a while, he stopped looking at the yellow piece of paper that started to give him a headache, reasoning that he could just ask when the next class came around.

As he walked through the hallways, the 21 year old passed by couples, grimacing when they reminded him of the argument he had with Jimin just a few hours ago. Taehyung couldn’t help but think to himself, why even bother?, convinced that love was just a wasted human emotion that people had yet to contain just like anger. As he thought about love, his mind drifted back to the Hanahaki disease that Jimin was so adamant about proving it exists. Not that Taehyung thought that was stupid, but it was stupid.

Knowing the human body and knowing how it works, there was no logical explanation for the disease other than Hanahaki being a type of hypochondriasis; where one worries about being sick from a certain symptom that they often perceive themselves as sick without an actual medical condition. There was no explanation to why, or how, it existed and no explanation as to why it stopped being diagnosed. If Jimin was right, then the disease stopped because people became more conscientious of who they fell in love with, but to Taehyung, that was a load of hoopla. Just because the whole world stopped smoking and got rid of carcinogens doesn’t mean that lung cancer wouldn’t exist anymore. It was the same concept, yet the biology major couldn’t help but be frustrated.

“Hey watch out!,” Taehyung heard someone yell, causing him to look up just in time to see a boy about his age on a skateboard crash into another boy whose nose was buried in a book ahead of him.

Running over to help, Taehyung helped the book worm to his feet, making sure he was okay and telling him he has to make sure he knows what’s going on around him or else he’s really gonna get hurt. Once sending the boy on his way, he turned his head to the other only to be met with one of the cutest boys he’s ever seen in his life. And that’s coming from a guy that doesn’t think that very often.   

“Are you okay?,” Taehyung asked, slowly looking over the boys body to scan for any injuries although the view was nice without him having to scan.

“I’m fine,” the boy smiled, kicking up his skateboard to carry it under his arm instead of riding it in a busy hallway full of science majors.

“Hey I know you,” the boy said thoughtfully, “You fell asleep in anatomy like an hour ago. I took notes for you, I hope you got them.”

Surprised that the boy, who looked at least a year younger than him, was in a senior class with him, Taehyung just nodded slowly.

“Yeah I got them. Can’t read it, but I got it,” the words slipping right out of his mouth, causing the older to internally die from the inside out from how ungrateful he sounded.

“Oh yeah sorry about that. My handwriting’s pretty shit,” and Taehyung had never felt so guilty in his life. Here was a kind, thoughtful, handsome boy so conveniently placed in front of him and the only thing Taehyung could think of commenting on was his lack of readable penmanship. Unbelievable.

“So I'm guessing you're on your way to lab,” the boy said, smiling when Taehyung just nodded. “Cool I'll walk with you.”

Suddenly hyper aware of how handsome this boy really was, Taehyung was flustered for the whole walk to the lab, trying to seem comfortable and indifferent, but really, he was ready to internally combust. It wasn't everyday that Biology senior Kim Taehyung caught the attention of someone that wasn't Jimin and his professor. This stra- stranger. He didn't even know the boy’s name.

“I'm Ki-”

“Kim Taehyung. I know,” the boy said cheekily, “I’ve sat next to you for the whole semester.”

Suddenly embarrassed, Taehyung felt his face heat up, turning his head so this guy wouldn’t have to see how he had transformed into a tomato. It hadn’t even occurred as a problem to him that he didn’t know anyone in any of his classes because of the sole fact that he knew he payed attention (well today was an exception). Now, this really, really good looking guy was offering an acquaintance, yet Taehyung didn’t even know his name but he knew Taehyung’s. What a wonderful start.

“I’m Jeon Jungkook. Nice to formally meet you Kim Taehyung,” Jungkook said, holding out his hand in a casual handshake which the older gratefully took.

“You too,” Taehyung said, smiling at the slightly taller boy.

“You know it's not everyday that you meet practically a genius,” Jungkook said, making the older blush from what he thought was a compliment.

“Thank you”

“Oh no I was talking about me”

Maybe it was fate or maybe it was a coincidence that although Taehyung loved to work alone, he found himself not minding the company of a certain 20 year old “genius”.

Jungkook was a lot more charming than he let on, cracking stupid biology jokes and managing to show off his intelligence through each one. Then again, to Taehyung, he was the most irritatingly charming 20 year old biology major he's ever met. Jungkook saw right through him, even seeing past the pointed glares and huffed responses that the older directed toward him. It was like in the short 2 hour span of meeting him, Jungkook had wormed his way into the ‘best friend’ category in Taehyung’s heart that the older only reserved for people who weren’t Jeon Jungkook. And that made Taehyung uncomfortable.

And irritated.

Because here was Jeon Jungkook, a very handsome specimen, with a smart mouth, fast brain, horrible jokes that he probably ripped off from online, and he was two years younger than Taehyung. Two whole years. And they ended up in the same year of college which, to the older’s demise, was absolutely unfair.

“Just let me help you!,” Jungkook whined, spinning mindlessly on the lab chairs near Taehyung’s space.

“I don’t need help,” the older said, not even bothering to look back at the younger. Even with just the two of them in the lab, it hadn’t been awkward or stale; it was almost as if the two of them had known each other for much longer than two hours.

“Come on Tae,” Jungkook groaned, hopping off his stool, “You’ve been staring at the same sample for the past seventeen minutes, erasing then rewriting the same exact things.”

Freezing where he was, Taehyung realized that 1) that asshole just gave him a nickname and 2) damn this kid is observant. Choosing to ignore the younger, Taehyung kept working on his thesis, switching the samples under the microscope out just to make it seem that he wasn’t stuck.

“You’re looking at a sample of feces from bos taurus”

Closing his eyes in pure embarrassment, Taehyung calmly took the sample of literal bullshit out from under the scope and put back the sample of organ tissue from a Hanahaki victim, a sample that no one was supposed to know he took from the research lab’s archives.

“Just let me help-”

Pushing the sample out and traveling to the other side of the lab table, Jungkook just sighed at the stubborn nature of the older. Even if Taehyung surprisingly trusted the younger, he couldn’t risk anyone else knowing he had a sample of something that was supposed to be locked up and preserved.

“Aren’t you tired of staring at a tiny hole?,” Jungkook asked, resting his head on his palm, his dark hair casting an attractive shadow over his attractive fact that made Taehyung take a little longer in processing the question that was asked, catching himself staring a little too long.

“Aren't you tired of staring at me?,” the older retorted, not realizing what he said until it slipped out of his mouth.

With his cheeks turning red from his bold statement, the younger just chuckled at him, thinking it was cute. And true. Because in all his months of sharing a class with him, Jeon Jungkook is starting to regret not getting to know Kim Taehyung earlier.

“Fine. I won’t touch any research. I’ll just, I don’t know, find grammar mistakes in your draft or something,” the younger huffed, grabbing the thick stack of papers off the lab table and sitting back down.

“You’re doing your thesis about love?”

Giving the younger a nod, Jungkook went back to the report, skimming through the pages and pages of research and analysis, impressed by the sheer effort that was shown.

“More specifically,” Taehyung said, straightening out his back, “how the human heart responds to love; emotions. Things that aren’t scientifically proven but can be logically explained.”

“Hmm,” Jungkook hummed in approval, slamming down the papers after another thirty seconds, “Okay I can’t stand this anymore, let’s go.”

The older let himself get dragged out of the empty lab because 1) there was no way Taehyung could ever challenge the strength that was Jeon Jungkook and 2) there’s a slight possibility of the older having a manhandling kink and if that meant someone younger than him, albeit stronger, push him around then he is all for it.

“W-where are we-”

“Coffee shop!”

“Iced stirred caramel macchiato with soy please”

“Ugh. Soy,” Jungkook said with such distaste from behind, “Lame.”

“I’m lactose intolerant you ass,” Taehyung retorted, turning around to pay for his drink before Jungkook pushed him out of the way, and damn did he go flying.

“And I’ll get a iced black coffee,” Jungkook ordered, handing over his card before Taehyung could even think to protest.

Making a retching noise in the back of his throat, the younger plastered a fake smile on his face as the cashier finished the transaction, trying not to pay attention to the boy making a scene in the middle of a highly used Starbucks.

“What is wrong with you?,” Jungkook whispered, pulling the older to wait by the hand-off area.

“What’s wrong with me? Nothing. I don’t like drinking dirt but apparently you do,” Taehyung hummed, grabbing his drink from the barista and skipping out the door before the younger could even think of a reply.

“Black coffee isn't even that bad, it's just strong,” Jungkook defended his, what Taehyung calls, poor choice of a caffeinated beverage.

“It tastes like it was ground from cocoa beans that Satan planted,” Taehyung said in distaste, throwing glares to the cup in Jungkook’s hand.

“Well it keeps me awake and diabetes free. At least I don't drink soy,” the younger said, throwing an equal offended glare to Taehyung’s cup.

“Excuse me,” the older said causing Jungkook to laugh, knowing their banter was all in good fun, “it's not my problem that cow milk gives me diarrhea.”

Hearing his alarm go off for work, Taehyung looked down to see that he spent almost four hours talking to the younger. He was surprised that he didn't get bored like he usually does with other people. Because of that, he felt just a little sad about having to leave. Just a little.

“Oh I-”

“Gotta blast?,” Jungkook asked, glancing down at the flashing phone screen.

“Yeah,” Taehyung said apologetically, “sorry I have work.”

“It's fine I pulled you away from your lab in the first place,” Jungkook chuckled, “Where do you work?”

“I'm a teacher's aid for the first years in organic chemistry,” the older said, the other boy’s face lighting up in interest.

“Wow”, he whistled, “that's impressive.”

“Yeah”, Taehyung said sheepishly, “were going to have to continue this argument the next time we have class I guess.”

“Or”, Jungkook elongated, “you can give me your phone number and you can yell at me all you want about my ‘satanic drink.’”

Giving a face, Taehyung just started walking away before turning around a good distance from the younger.

“387-6704,” he yelled before turning back around and walking away completely, leaving Jungkook behind with a smile and a slight shake of his head.

Come get lunch w me

-JK

No

-TH

Yes

-JK

Tae?

-JK

Stopping in front of Jungkook’s 10:45 class, Taehyung waited for the session to finish. It's been about two weeks since the two have met and a steady friendship had been established. Well, more of a steady acquaintance; Taehyung didn't want to call it friendship just yet.

Jungkook was super nice, too nice, and that left something unsettled in Taehyung. Call it men intuition, but he had a feeling the younger boy was going to become someone important to him and Taehyung wasn't sure if he was ready for someone of Jungkook’s caliber to be constantly around him. Heck, he couldn't even get used to the younger calling him ‘Tae’, a nickname that only people like Jimin used. For the past two weeks, Jungkook would accompany Taehyung during his late night lab sessions and vice versa, liking the company even if they worked better when they were alone.

Taeeeeeee

-JK

Rolling his eyes, Taehyung could imagine the younger whining, an image that was extremely vivid for only seeing Jungkook a handful of times.

Deciding not to answer, Taehyung just waited outside, looking at the landscapes of the courtyard that he's never really taken the time to see. Fascinated with the flowers and the formation of the different systems, he didn't even notice Jungkook exiting the lecture rooms and sneaking up behind Taehyung.

“They're pretty right?,” his deep voice resonated, scaring the living crap out of the older.

“Damn warn a guy next time,” Taehyung whined, putting a palm over his heart to calm it down.

Ignoring the drama queen that Kim Taehyung was, the younger just continued talking, “My group and I arranged the flowers according to sunlight to water ratios for last year's final project.”

“So,” the younger said after another moment of reminiscence, “lunch?”

“Don’t you have friends?,” Taehyung asked lightly, standing up to dust himself off. Jungkook stood up along with him, a bright, childish smile on his face that made the older just wanna punch him.

“Of course I do! But they’re all too far away and I don’t like eating by myself,” he said, long legs starting to move away from the benches and toward the courtyard where food trucks had gathered during the day for students on the west wing to enjoy.

“What are you, twelve?,” the older grumbled, trailing after him only to be pulled into a friendly yet tight half embrace, the younger’s stronger arm slung casually around Taehyung’s neck.

“Oh lighten up you hardass,” Jungkook chided, “How was Environmental Sciences? Still bad?”

“The absolute worst, I cannot believe you passed that course with full marks,” Taehyung cried, “it’s been almost a semester and I still haven’t learned anything that I didn’t already learn in o-chem last semester.”

“How’s the teache-”

“Don’t even start,” Taehyung warned darkly, hating even the thought of his grumpy, defensive, discriminative professor for environmental sciences. “How’d you even get on his good side? I could just be sitting there, minding my own business and he’d tell me to shut up and suck a dick!”

Throwing his head back in laughter, Jungkook shook his head. “He’s really the worst professor in the world 11/10 would not recommend. Why didn’t you just switch out like you said you would?”

Shrugging his shoulders, Taehyung’s heart dropped a little when the younger’s arm fell from where it rested against his neck.

“Thought I could wait it out just to see how the course would develop. I'm still waiting”, Taehyung grumbled, following Jungkook to whatever truck he was getting food from.

The younger just hummed, stopping in front of a Thai food truck, scanning a menu that he's seen a hundred times. Turning to the other boy, Jungkook asked, “Is spicy food okay?”

“We don’t have to get food from the same place,” Taehyung said nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders, looking around to the other groups of students that were looking at the two of them weird.

“Okay we kinda do because I’m paying and stop looking, let them stare all they want,” Jungkook said, going over to the window of the truck to order.

Feeling his face get hot, Taehyung followed after the younger, hiding behind him as he ordered for the both of them. Of course people were going to talk, why hadn't Taehyung thought of that earlier? He was the poster child for introverts, no one really knew him except for Jimin and the friends he’s made through knowing Yoongi. Jeon Jungkook, on the other hand, from what the older could gather, was the epitome of perfect. Everyone liked him, he was the smartest student in the biology department, he knew how to dance, he did sports, he was nice. People like him and people like Taehyung didn't mix and if he didn't feel it when they first met, he was definitely feeling it now from all the stares and hushed whispers behind his back.

“Kim Taehyung,” Jungkook harshly whispered, successfully pulling the older out of his thoughts, “Stop thinking so loud I can hear you from here.”

“Sorry,” he said, pushing his head down so he couldn't see the younger.

Clicking his tongue, Jungkook sent a playful glare to the older’s caved in body before poking his head upwards so he could face him. Met with cute wide eyes, the younger gave Taehyung a big smile before putting his arm back around the older’s shoulders. With the familiar, comforting weight back around his neck, Taehyung felt himself loosen up a little, feeling a little safer from the judgemental looks of the other students surrounding them.

“Why don’t you go pick a seat while I wait for the food,” Jungkook suggested and Taehyung nodded, pulling away from the younger to sit down on a table in the far corner where the two of them could eat in peace and in shade because if Jungkook was going to keep doing that arm thing, it’s going to get extremely hot.

Once the younger came over carrying a tray of various take-out boxes, the two of them started eating. It was nice; just eating lunch together and shit talking their professors because none of them knew how to properly teach. And it was going great. Until the spiciness of the food had settled in Taehyung’s mouth.

“Oh you’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he groaned, throwing his head back to gulp down as much water as he could.

“What?,” Jungkook asked concerned, looking over the older worriedly.

“First you drink dirt then you eat hell’s food?,” Taehyung complained, shoveling spoonfuls of rice in his mouth to try and stop the internal heat from spreading.

“Oh so you can’t handle spicy food,” Jungkook said, clearly amused by the older having a mental breakdown over some spicy curry.

“Do you want me to go get something else for you?,” the younger said after realizing that Taehyung wasn’t joking and he really couldn’t handle spicy foods like he could.

Shaking his head, Taehyung just put on a brave face. Jungkook asked him to lunch and paid for the food, it was only polite for Taehyung not to complain and just eat up. Plus, the pain was temporary. Sure, maybe his bladder and asshole would never forgive him after this meal, but that was less important compared to not seeming like a weakling in Jungkook’s eyes.

“Seriously,” Jungkook tsked, grabbing the older’s hand that was holding his spoon and guiding it toward his own mouth, “don't eat it if you can't enjoy it. I'll get you something else.”

Getting up, Taehyung kicked the younger’s shin to get him to sit back down.

“Ow! What?!”

“Stop it!”

“Stop what?!”

“Being nice to me!”

Rolling his eyes, Jungkook just got back up, dodging the older’s powerful kick, and ran to the Italian food truck. Watching the younger stand in line, Taehyung had half a mind to drag him back to their table so he wouldn't feel like a burden, but while he was deciding how to potentially muster enough strength to actually pull the younger back to the table, Jungkook appeared before him again with another take out box.

“Don't open it yet,” he said, tying up the package and pushing it toward Taehyung who was shooting him confused looks.

“Your alarm for work is gonna ring in about three minutes, then you're gonna freak out that you forgot again. Eat when you get to the class,” Jungkook said thoughtfully making Taehyung’s face heat up.

“You're too good to me Jeon Jungkook,” the older said.

“I have to be. You're my friend aren't you?”

Get your lazy ass up Kim Taehyung we’re gonna be late

-JK

Springing up in his bed from the text that was sent almost half an hour ago, Taehyung rushed to the bathroom to finally start getting ready for the presentation that he was definitely going to be late for at this point.

“Jimin! Why didn’t you wake me up?!,” he yelled through the foam of his toothpaste at his roommate was just casually lounging in front of the TV.

“I thought you were up!,” Jimin said defensively, “Your alarm was going off for a while so I just assumed that you were letting it wake you up.”

“I didn’t set an alarm!”

“Well someone’s been calling you for the past 30 minutes!”

Dashing toward his phone that was still on the bed with half of his face caked in facewash, Taehyung opened his call log to find over 20 missed calls from none other than Jeon Jungkook himself. With another ding, his phone lit up to notify him of another text.

Srsly KTH ur gonna be the death of me

-JK

I stalled for a couple minutes so you have time to get here

-JK

So get here

-JK

Thanking whoever decided befriending Jungkook was a good idea for Taehyung, the older ran back into the bathroom to wash off whatever residue was left and threw open his dresser. Knowing that he was going to be running late even if he woke up on time, a much more responsible Kim Taehyung planned what he was going to wear for presentation in advance. The only thing he needed to do now was to actually get himself into the clothes.

This is all ur fault

-TH

How is this my fault?! U slept thru all my calls!!!!

-JK

If u didnt keep me up all night while you rambled about ur stupid pet hamster then maybe i woulve went to sleep earlier

-TH

Max doesn’t appreciate u calling him stupid nor the fact that u completely stopped using apostrophes

-JK

Max can suck my ass

-TH

He doesn't appreciate you assuming his sexuality either

-JK

BIIIIIIIIIII

-TH

Two minutes!1!!1!!!1!!

-JK

Buttoning the final button on his shirt, Taehyung quickly took a glance in the mirror, deemed himself presentable, and ran out the door, telling a goodbye to Jimin.

In all his years of being at the university, Taehyung has never done more than walk to a class much less run. Breaking a sweat as he weaved his way through the morning students, he realized two things. He's completely out of shape and he's running to a class that he doesn't particularly care about but Jungkook does so he does too.

And although that's unsettling seeing how almost every night since the day they've met he's been getting less and less sleep than he was already being deprived from, Taehyung had thrown all his thoughts to the wind. Jeon Jungkook had proven himself to be a useful friend, in certain situations, and the older was happy to keep him around. Maybe it was because of the dark eyes, or the tight pants that hugged his waist so well, or the fact that Jungkook has the sexiest fingers- no. It was because he was a person that Taehyung could see himself hanging out with, probably yelling at, ten, fifteen years in the future.

And in the future, when Jungkook is a doctor and the older is a professor himself, Taehyung could see the scene where he comes home from a long day at the school, with tons and tons of papers to grade while Jungkook peeks out from the kitchen and gives him the warmest, loving smile and-

What the shit, Kim Taehyung?

Spending the last thirty seconds of running through the corridor to reason with himself that his subconscious did not just dream up a domestic future between him and his newfound friend, Taehyung entered the lecture hall and tiptoed through the seats before finding Jungkook and sliding into the chair the younger saved just for him.

“You’re late asshole,” the younger said through gritted teeth, “We’re next.”

More concerned about the raging dilemma going on in his head, Taehyung just nodded and stared ahead, trying to practice his part of the presentation in his head but failing miserably.

Noticing the older’s frown and grunts of frustration, Jungkook just lightly smiled and reached into his bag under his chair, pulling out a small stack of index cards and grabbing the boy’s hand next to him only to drop the index cards into his grasp.

“Prepared them just in case,” the younger smiled, making Taehyung’s heart do mysterious things in his chest.

“So….lab?,” the younger asked, falling into step with the other boy who pretty much bolted out of class as soon as they were dismissed.

“I- I might skip today. I’m feeling a little lightheaded,” Taehyung said, already feeling bad for lying to the other to blatantly, but it wasn’t like he could tell him the truth.

Jungkook’s lips turned into a frown; a small pout that made the older just want to kiss him. Bringing his hand rest on Taehyung’s forehead, the other boy just watched in amazement as Jungkook focused on feeling the older’s temperature.

“Hmm. You do feel a little warm,” the younger said thoughtfully, moving his rest on Taehyung’s neck, causing the older’s breath to catch in his throat.

Staring at Jungkook, Taehyung noticed the little things that he never really saw before. Like the mole right under his lips or how the big the scar on his cheek really was. He saw the concern written all over his face and his pout get deeper when he put his other hand to his own neck for comparison.

“Well, you don’t have a fever,” Jungkook said, removing his hands from the older.

Breaking out of his trace, Taehyung stepped away from the younger and cast his eyes down, too confused and uncertain to really face him.

“But if you’re feeling lightheaded then you should drink a shitton of water and get some rest. I’ll cover you for lab today,” Jungkook said, giving the older a small but breathtaking smile.

“You got it Doctor Jeon”

Taehyung wasn’t lightheaded, a kindergartener could tell that much. Jungkook, being the good friend that he was, decided not to pry, but when the older wouldn't answer any of his text messages, he knew exactly where he was. And it wasn't in his dorm sleeping.

“You know, you should really follow doctor’s orders Professor Kim,” he said, startling the older whose back was to him, crouched over a beaker in the lab.

“H-how did you-”

“I know you Taehyung. You weren't lightheaded today after class and if it was something I did then I'm sorry-”

Taehyung’s face contorted in horror when he heard the younger blaming himself. It was his own fault, not Jungkook’s. Never in a million years.

“It's not your fault-”

“Then why'd you lie to me?”

The silence between the two boys grew louder and louder as Taehyung asked himself the same question. Why did he lie to Jungkook? Was it because his feelings? Was it because he suddenly became very much aware of how close he was getting to this kid that he's known for about four months? Why’d he lie?

“I don’t- I don't know,” the older said truthfully, looking down to avoid eye contact.

Taehyung didn't know what to expect. Maybe a ‘tell me next time’ or a shrug of the shoulders because that was Jungkook. He was calm and collective and nonchalant and understanding. Because he was Jungkook. What Taehyung wasn't expecting was to be enveloped in a warm embrace, squished between the lab table and the younger's solid chest.

“J-Jung-”

“Just tell me if something is going on don't lie to me about it,” he said softly, making Taehyung want to melt from how good the vibrations of his voice in his chest felt.

Knowing he shouldn't have, Taehyung just buried himself further into the younger’s embrace, wanting to hold on just a little more. And maybe that's when he felt it. His change in heart and attitude. He no longer wanted to lurk in the shadows of the friend zone, too scared to cross the line in fear of rejection.

And Taehyung was confident Jungkook felt the same.

There was no way the younger would constantly text him, keeping the both of them up until the ass crack of dawn just because he had made a new friend. It didn't make sense that even if the older never mentioned it, Jungkook had remembered that Taehyung was lactose intolerant from the first time they stepped into that coffee shop. Or the fact that even when he knew he worked better alone, he would always call Taehyung over to the lab where they would spend hours on end just in each other’s company. Or even the fact that every night and every morning, without fail, he would send a ‘goodnight’ and ‘good morning’ text just to make sure that Taehyung was sleeping and waking up on time.

And even if the younger couldn't reciprocate his feelings, Taehyung wouldn't stop. Because to him, Jungkook was worth it.

“Well I haven't seen your crazy ass all week. You're still alive I see,” Jimin said grumpily, sliding into the bar seat next to his best friend, his steaming white mocha on the counter waiting for him.

Taehyung just smiled, reading through some old text messages between him and Jungkook that morning. After this small coffee date with Jimin, he was meeting the younger for lunch, a ritual that they kept along with meeting in the lab every night.

Noticing his best friend’s giggly state, Jimin just rolled his eyes before realizing that holy shit Kim Taehyung actually has a giggly state.

“Who is it?!,” Jimin all but yells, smacking his best friend on the arm multiple times to get his attention.

To Taehyung it didn't hurt, it just added to his excitement of finally telling someone that he did it. After twenty two years of being cold and unresponsive, Kim Taehyung had finally found someone that he could wholeheartedly say he genuinely liked. And to him, this was groundbreaking. Because after all those years of thinking that love was dead and that science was all he needed, he was finally proven wrong. That science wasn't what he needed, it was the smart mouthed, sweet, irritatingly charming Jeon Jungkook.

“I swear to god Kim Taehyung-”

“It's Jeon Jungkook, a pre-med major in my bio class and lab,” Taehyung said all giddy, missing the look of horror on Jimin’s face.

“No. Taehyung you can't like him,” Jimin said, panic written all over his face, but head-over-heels Kim Taehyung doesn't notice.

“You're right,” he said, looking down with a shy smile on his face, “I think I love him.”

Jimin was absolutely done. There was no saying as to what would happen now, but one thing’s for certain. Between Jeon Jungkook and Kim Taehyung, there would be a broken heart and Park Jimin knew exactly whose heart it would be.

“No Tae, listen to me. You can't like, let alone love, Jeon Jungkook. You can't. I won't allow you to,” the shorter said, freaking out in the middle of the cafe.

With a confused face, Taehyung was about to ask his best friend why he was so against the idea until he felt a cough rising up. But it wasn't like any other dry cough that he's felt before. The coughs just kept coming, becoming more and more painful; more and more unbearable. To Taehyung is was nothing more than a dry cough that wouldn't go away, but Jimin knew better. With the coughs violently ripping through his lungs, Taehyung started to tear up around the edges of his eyes, trying to drink something but only making it worse. It felt like hell; like someone was twisting his lungs into uncomfortable positions then tearing it from the inside out. When it didn't calm down, Taehyung was pretty sure he was going to die coughing, and he wasn't wrong, but just when he thought it couldn't get any worse, it did. His gag reflex had initiated, causing his hands to go flying to his mouth just in case he couldn't make it to a bathroom in time.

“Tae-” Jimin started, hand coming up to pat the other’s back.

But just when he thought he had finally vomited and the feeling passed, dread filled the younger’s body as he didn’t feel the disgusting, sticky liquid that would usually come out. With an unstable breath and wide eyes, Taehyung unclenched his shaky hands with fear, because really this cannot be happening, to reveal the four baby pink petals in his hand. Dropping them on the table, he ignored the pointed looks and the sympathetic whispers around him, the only thing he was focusing on was getting out of there.

“No- Taehyung!,” Jimin called, running after his best friend, knowing he wasn’t in any condition to be moving much less running.

Just as he reached the hallway leading back to the university, Taehyung dropped to his knees, another gut wrenching cough making its way up his throat. The same feeling of pain and hysteria clouded his mind as he faintly heard Jimin called for him in the distance, coughing up more pink petals and spitting them on the ground before passing out on the stone cold cement.

a/n: Sooooo i was supposed to publish this like a month ago?? 

-M♡♡

[racingtoaredlight]

The degenerate’s guide to college football TV watch ‘em ups, 2019 season, week 11

I typed “Bama LSU” into tumblr’s gif search and this was the only result. I take it as a representation of my flawless technique as a writer.

Let’s see if I have the heart or interest to write anything worthwhile below. I’ve probably already done the best work possible in this world. FBSchedules and Vegas Insider are supporting this post materially, unwitting yet they be.

Saturday, November 9

Matchup                                          Time (ET)                     TV/Mobile

Vanderbilt at 10 Florida                  12:00pm                         ESPN

This doesn’t belong on television. This is not the kind of thing people should waste their lives on and I mean that for the players and coaches.

4 Penn State at 17 Minnesota         12:00pm                         ABC

Gophers +6.5 is an absolutely sure thing. It’s either that or there is no god. You can only choose one.

WKU at Arkansas                             12:00pm                       SECN

Have you guys followed the whole Deadspin saga from the last few weeks? My favorite part was that Maidment guy that set the whole cycle in motion and then had to write a bunch of shitty content himself to make the site look sort of normal after everybody quit. I laughed heartily at his horrible writing but I can’t help feeling I’m that kind of brainless dummy clacking away at a company laptop to produce as little impact as possible with my unoriginal words. Anyway, enjoy this version of the Petrino Bowl.

UMass at Army                                  12:00pm                       CBSSN

Army is favored by 34.5. Army is fucking awful. It’s insane that UMass has a win over an FBS team this season. Once you get blown out by UConn, people forget all about your big win over Akron. Anyway, take UMass to cover because, as many are saying, Army is fucking awful.

Purdue at Northwestern                    12:00pm                       BTN

As today’s contemporary children are quite fond of saying, it’s gonna be a no from me, dawg.

Texas Tech at West Virginia              12:00pm                      ESPN2

Long gone are the days of Holgo and... the guy that coaches the Cardinals now. They both used shitty seasons to get better money this year. So now Texas Tech vs. West Virginia is just bland gruel hardly fit for a shithead on his couch.

Maryland at 1 Ohio State                   12:00pm                       FOX

We’re into the BCS rankings part of the season so now Ohio State is ranked #1, which I mostly agree with. I still hope they lose way more often than not but I’m sort of ambivalent here. Last year Maryland fucked up and blew a great chance to upset Ohio State and I watched it with friends who are not football degenerates a day or two after our friend’s funeral. On that note, Ohio State -44 is a strong recommend.

Florida State at Boston College        12:00pm                      ACCN

A week ago I would not have guessed FSU could fuck themselves so thoroughly against Miami that they’d be playing with an interim head coach this week. The rumor mill for the permanent hire in Tallahassee is hilarious: Nick Saban, Urban Meyer, Bob Stoops, Jim Leavitt and Deion Sanders. The nicest thing I saw about Deion’s resume was that he was the OC for a high school in Texas a few years ago. I don’t think that was his sham unaccredited school. That school was in Florida, wasn’t it? That’s quite the resume to put up against the other four. Coach Deion is a dream we can all have.

East Carolina at 25 SMU                     12:00pm                     ESPNU

Condolences to SMU as Memphis didn’t continually shoot themselves in the dick like they normally do in high profile games. This should be a good bounceback game but the action on the line (moving 3 points towards ECU) tells me people didn’t really think that much of SMU in the first place.

12 Baylor at TCU                                  12:00pm                        FS1

I honestly don’t have any sort of read on whether Baylor’s 8-0 record is because they’re back to being good or if they’ve just feasted on mostly shitty teams. Which I guess is all they ever did under Briles, anyway. Well, TCU sucks this year so I’m not really excited to check in on this one unless there’s an exciting finish like TCU is driving with under a minute to score their 10th TD of the day before time expires to seal the shutout.

Georgia Tech at Virginia                       12:30pm                       RSN

For as long as I live, I will only ever think of the 1990 game between these two whenever they match up.

Air Force at New Mexico                    Postponed

This game is postponed due to the death of UNM defensive end, Nahje Flowers. R.I.P.

UTSA at Old Dominion                          2:00pm                        ESPN3

South Alabama at Texas State              3:00pm                        ESPN3

Charlotte at UTEP                                   3:00pm                       ESPN+

Stanford at Colorado                              3:00pm                     Pac-12N

19 Wake Forest at Virginia Tech            3:30pm                       ACCN

If VPISU hadn’t fucked it at the end against Notre Dame last week they’d probably be ranked ahead of Wake Forest. After Wake Forest loses this week, the boys from VPI might actually jump over them, anyway.

USC at Arizona State                               3:30pm                        ABC

Now this is more like it! I don’t mean this game is interesting for watchin’ ‘em up or gambling, but the part where both teams are unranked and struggling. USC just hired a new AD from Cincinnati and he... knows Urban Meyer? Or the draw of being from UC will be just too much for Urban to resist? Or Urban picked the guy himself as a condition of considering coaching in the Coliseum? Still seems less than done to me but I’m still holding out hope that Urban Meyer never coaches again and his family leaves him.

Louisville at Miami (FL)                            3:30pm                      ESPN2

Still fading The U for now. The 9 sacks and the easy win over FSU were nice but FSU hasn’t had a good offensive line since Jameis Winston won the Heisman and things are in a bit of disarray there. Louisville is a better team than most people realize and they’ll run straight at Miami instead of whatever the FSU gameplan was last week. Things may have turned a corner in Coral Gables but I’m inclined to believe the biggest leap they made last week was beating up on a familiar foe who is very down in the dumps and ready to quit at a moment’s notice.

UAB at Southern Miss                               3:30pm                       NFLN

UAB failed us big time last week and now they’re a road underdog. I didn’t realize the Favres had crawled back to being decent. I don’t have a take on the line but this is probably the best game that’s been stuck on NFL Network so far this year.

Georgia Southern at Troy                          3:30pm                      ESPN+

Each year I struggle to remember which one is Georgia Southern and which one is Georgia State and each year I fail to attempt to fix that.

UConn at 20 Cincinnati                              3:30pm                    CBSSN

UC on UC - it’s gonna be a bloodbath! The Ohesians are only favored by 34 against the sad huskies. That seems like a slap in the face to any reasonably well prepared football program, let alone a top 25 one.

Illinois at Michigan State                            3:30pm                       FS1

Illinois is a half game up on Sparty right now and rumors are flying that D’antonio is gonna retire after the season. Now, let’s go kill Tom Izzo. Michigan State is favored by 14.5 in this game and, seriously, can they even score that much in one game? Take the Illini and know that you’re on the side of good even if your bets don’t come through.

2 LSU at 3 Alabama                                     3:30pm                     CBS

Weeks of press for this GAME OF THE CENTURY OF THIS YEAR THIS WEEK and then the BCS poll comes out and it isn’t even a real 1 v. 2 matchup. That’s funny. I keep waiting for something to go wildly wrong with LSU but also feel like Bama being favored by a touchdown seems off, especially if Tua is at less than full operational capacity.

16 Kansas State at Texas                            3:30pm                   ESPN

I’ve thought Texas was overrated all year and look at them now. Favored by 7 at home against a better team. Even unrated Texas is somehow still overrated.

18 Iowa at 13 Wisconsin                              4:00pm                    FOX

This has all the makings of a great all-time eyerake. Wisconsin -9 seems absolutely insane but so does Wisconsin #13.

New Mexico State at Mississippi                4:00pm                   SECN

A classic rivalry game.

North Texas at Louisiana Tech                    4:00pm              Facebook

A spirited game between the 096ers and the Karl Malone Got His 13-Year Old Cousin Pregnant While He Was In School Heres always gets the blood pumping.

Georgia State at ULM                                    5:00pm               ESPN+

ESPN+ games don’t count as watch ‘em ups. Does anybody in the comments actually pay for this shit? It seems insane. $8/month for access to 30 For 30 that you effectively already have and the + is the absolute worst filth college sports can throw at you.

FIU at Florida Atlantic                                   6:00pm              Stadium

Really have no idea what to tell you. I think I understand both of these teams and then I’m proven wrong week after week. I’m rooting for FIU if that helps.

Appalachian State at South Carolina           7:00pm             ESPN2

South Carolina is favored by 5.5. That’s more than the homefield bump. Does App State run the same offense as Georgia where the QB isn’t allowed to throw past the line of scrimmage and running backs are encouraged to run straight into the backs of their offensive linemen?

Missouri at 6 Georgia                                     7:00pm              ESPN

Hey, speaking of Georgia! They don’t get nearly enough credit for being the worst team in America to watch for entertainment purposes. It’s like Kirby Smart is trying to take all of the late career criticism that Mark Richt faced at UGA and The U and reach the same end point by the time he’s coached four season in Athens.

Utah State at Fresno State                             7:00pm            CBSSN

Jordan Love. I just don’t know. He’s like a more careless version of Josh Allen. Is somebody really going to draft that in the first round? He has a year of eligibility left. I don’t know if he’s due to graduate in time but if he could find his way to Missouri that might really benefit both parties.

Washington State at California                       7:00pm           Pac-12N

A fine specimen of Pac-12 After Dark but only like 8% of the country can even watch it legally.

15 Notre Dame at Duke                                    7:30pm            ACCN

On a positive note, whatever happens in this game we can all laugh at the losers.

Liberty at BYU                                                   7:30pm          ESPNU

Bergie’s Watch ‘Em Of The Year!

Tennessee at Kentucky                                    7:30pm           SECN

Let’s go whiskey!

5 Clemson at NC State                                      7:30pm            ABC

Clemson is outside looking in at the CFP! Panic! They’ll be #3 next week!

Iowa State at 9 Oklahoma                                 8:00pm           FOX

In the parlance of our times, Iowa State is a messy bitch who loves drama. Will the Sooners get bailed out if things are tight at the end? Absolutely. But I would still put a dime or even a quarter on the Cyclones to keep it closer than 14.5.

Wyoming at 22 Boise State                              10:15pm          ESPN

I think if I surveyed the commenterate here they mostly hate Boise State and that tells me you’re a bunch of idiots. A nothing program rising like they did without a Phil Knight or an oil magnate backing them and they play their home games at night on blue turf? How do you joyless pricks live with your humorless brains? I fucking love MWC football and I love the blue turf. This is a great game. Long live the Potatoes.

 Nevada at San Diego State                               10:30pm         ESPN2

The real late night games are all MWC this week and that is fucking beautiful. Just look at this. SDSU was ranked last week but then we switched over to CFP rankings and those pricks couldn’t just give us one more group of five school. Nuhvaddduh is OK this year and SDSU isn’t quite rolling up the rushing yards they have for the past five years so maybe this will be entertaining even beyond the pretty laundry?

San Jose State at Hawaii                                 11:00pm    Spectrum Sports

I don’t actually know what Spectrum Sports is now that I think about it. This is, on paper, a pretty even matchup. If you want to keep yourself occupied into the early morning hours, SJSU at +7 seems a decent value in these here puffy, darkened eyes.