#and covalent bonds suck and are weak

[thorfireball]

Chad Ionic bonds versus Beta covalent bonds

[bimbopossum]

i know it’s hard to tell (but i think i really like you)

pairing: riche tozier/eddie kaspbrak

warnings: swearing (i think) + a few gross jokes

word count: 3383

summary: In an attempt to fight his feelings for Richie, Eddie makes a list of everything he doesn't like about him. And then, unknowingly, Richie spends a week proving every single one of them wrong.

read on ao3!

“I don’t like Richie,” Eddie says, out loud. He’s alone in his room, and he’s talking to no one in particular. In all honesty, the only person he needs to convince of that fact is himself; no one else would even dare to ask.

“I don’t like Richie,” he says again, louder this time. He stands from his desk chair, and walks to the chalkboard hanging on his wall.

“I don’t like Richie,” he repeats once more. He picks up a piece of chalk and brings it to the board, his hand hovering. He writes.

I don’t like Richie.

It doesn’t feel like enough. He makes a fist and rubs off the words with the side of his hand. He writes again.

WHY I don’t like Richie:

And, well. He makes a list. It comes easily, because frankly, Richie is the worst. He’s crass, and crude, and he’s a boy; he’s the exact opposite of what Eddie would consider “his type.” There’s no way he could ever, ever like anyone like Richie.

1. He’s gross.

Eddie thinks back to the time, the very same day, when Richie ran up to him, tackling him in a bear hug. The gesture was sweet, and Eddie’s first reaction was in the form of his stomach swooping to his feet. That was, until he caught a whiff of the taller boy’s armpit.

“Oh my god, Richie! You stink!” He had yelled, pushing him away.

The sentence on the chalkboard is punctuated with a nod from the small boy who wrote it. Yeah. Richie is gross. He doesn’t even wear deodorant.

2. His jokes.

The worst offense in this category was a few weeks ago, on a class trip to the zoo. Eddie was mesmerized by the elephants. He watched the giant, gentle creatures in awe and therefore, fell for the trap that was Richie’s question.

“Hey Eds, what do you do when you come across an elephant?”

Snapping out of his daze, Eddie turned to the boy.

“Huh?” He said.

The instant regret filled his mind as he saw a smug smile make its way onto Richie’s face.

“Apologize and wipe it off.”

There was a beat of silence. Then, the sound of Eddie’s hand smacking the skin of Richie’s arm, and a cry of “oh my god, that’s not even funny! you’re so fucking gross.”

Eddie rolls his eyes at the memory. It’s still a horrible joke, and a completely valid reason to put on his chalkboard.

3. He’s not cute.

Eddie knows it’s harsh, but c’mon. He knows he’s right. His mind fills with gangly limbs, and broken glasses pieced back together with white tape, and hawaiian shirts with colorful shorts that don’t match and big, stinky feet covered in patterned socks that kick him whenever they can and yeah. Richie is not cute. His hair flies around his face and his eyes always look far too big because of his glasses. He’s not cute, even for a boy.

4. He doesn’t take anything seriously.

There’s too many examples for this one. Every time Eddie is sad and Richie makes some comment about fucking his mom, every time Stan is talking about birds and Richie interrupts him to ask “what kind of bird gives the best head,” every time Bill is stuttering and Richie makes fun of him even though it’s clear that he’s struggling. Richie is always toomuchtoomuchtoomuch and notknowingwhentostop.

And that’s why Eddie does not like him.

The next day, the Losers meet up at the arcade, and Eddie’s holding out on the hope that he’ll convince someone to get ice cream with him. He’s the last one to show up, and when Richie spots him heading their way, he immediately barrels toward Eddie to engulf him in another bear hug. Eddie’s chest rushes with blood as the tall boy holds onto him, and he wrinkles his nose in anticipation for the stench of his armpits. But it doesn’t come.

“Are you…” he trails off. Sniff. “Are you wearing deodorant?” Eddie asks, as Richie’s arms return to his side. Richie chuckles.

“I figured it was time I get a new signature scent. Whaddya think?” He asks. He even goes as far to lift his arm and offer the smell to Eddie’s unsuspecting nose. To his own surprise, Eddie actually takes another whiff. His face fills with color.

“Not bad,” he shrugs. Richie slings an arm around his shoulder, and Eddie can’t deny that it’s nice to not have to smell the boy’s B.O. as they walk.

Hours later, when the Losers have all returned home and Eddie and Richie have finished their ice cream (because of course Eddie was able to convince him), the small boy walks up to the chalkboard in his room and bashfully strikes a line through the first point on his list.

He’s gross.

“Hey Eds, wanna hear a joke?” Richie asks, in the same excitable way he always does—as if he’s a child looking for approval from an adult.

Eddie rolls his eyes. “No, I wanna keep studying, fuckface.”

The textbook on his lap is seemingly being used, but in reality, Eddie doesn’t know a word of what he’s read in the last 10 minutes. He honestly would like to hear a joke, even a horrible Richie joke; anything to distract him from covalent bonds. But he would never tell Richie that.

“C’mon, please? It’s really funny, I promise,” the boy pleads.

“You said that about the cannibal joke last week,” Eddie deadpans.

“That joke was hilarious!”

Eddie takes a deep breath, and immediately regrets even answering Richie’s question in the first place.

“The fact that you still think so is exactly why I don’t want to hear another one.”

“Please, Eds?” He begs, putting on his best puppy dog eyes. Eddie groans.

“God, fine! What is it?”

Richie’s face lights up, and it almost makes it worth the horrible joke Eddie’s about to hear.

“Apparently, every 52 seconds, someone in London is stabbed. Poor bastard.”

Eddie blinks. Then, as if surprising himself, a laugh bubbles out of his throat. He smacks a hand over his mouth, shocked that he actually found one of Richie’s jokes funny. Richie just stares as he laughs, just as surprised that he’s entertained. It’s a really simple joke, and it’s kind of dumb, but. It’s not about dicks or having sex with Sonia Kaspbrak and it’s… a little bit smart, at the same time, too? In a way that Richie never is. And it’s funny. Richie told a genuinely funny joke. As Eddie’s giggles die down, Richie has the most proud look on his face and he doesn’t even look smug about it at all. He just looks happy. And Eddie makes a mental note to laugh at more of his jokes now, even if they suck, if only so he can see that pleased little smile on the boy’s face again.

He also makes a mental note to strike through the second bullet point on his chalkboard when he gets home.

His jokes.

The next day, Eddie goes to meet the Losers in the front lot at school, like he does every other morning. The only person there so far is Ben, and they immediately fall into comfortable conversation. Eddie was always a bit awkward around Ben in the beginning, even though he couldn’t place his finger on why. Now, though, it’s like he’s been a part of the group forever.

They talk for a few minutes, while the others start to show up. Ten minutes pass, and the only person who hasn’t arrived yet is Richie. His conversation with Ben dies down, and he starts picking at a loose thread on his shorts to pass the time. After another moment, he hears a shout from beside him, and feels the weight of a body plopping down on the bench next to him.

“Good morning, Spaghetti!” Richie says. Eddie lazily moves his gaze to the boy sitting next to him, as if to seem unamused, but his breath catches as soon as he sees him.

Richie is just beaming at him, in the way he always does, as if there’s nothing different. Nothing changed, nothing new, nothing to make Eddie’s heart literally jump to his throat at the sight of him.

“You, um…” Eddie breathes. He clears his throat and attempts to make his voice as even as possible. “You got new glasses,” he says, barely above a whisper. No one around them seems to be fazed by this development, but Eddie thinks he could die.

Richie smiles even wider. “I did! What do you think? My prescription changed so I decided to trade the old frames in for a younger model,” he says. He reaches behind his ears and presses on the legs of the glasses, making them move up and down on his face.

These new glasses—they’re thinner, more rounded instead of square. They’re still a bit big for Richie’s face, but in a way that suits his features as opposed to swallowing them. The most drastic change, Eddie thinks, is how much older Richie looks in them. There’s no tape holding them together, and they frame his face in a way that makes his brow look stronger, and his nose a bit thinner. He looks good.

“They’re…cool. I like them,” he chokes out.

And, if all this wasn’t enough kindling for the “torturing Eddie” fire, the first bell rings at this moment, causing Richie to stand from the bench. Eddie catches a good look at what he’s wearing for the first time, and his mouth goes dry. A dark green t-shirt is tucked into a pair of light jeans that sit high on Richie’s waist. The bottoms are cuffed, showing his thin ankles, where a pair of colorful socks peek out of his sneakers. The drastic change from hawaiian shirts and cutoff shorts that fray at the bottom is enough to make Eddie’s knees weak.

Eddie thinks his intention is to ask a question, but when his mouth opens, all that comes out is a choked “clothes?”

Richie looks puzzled for a moment, until he looks down and registers what Eddie is saying.

“Oh! My cousin gave me some of his old clothes he doesn’t wear anymore,” he shrugs. All of the other Losers have left the area, making their way to their first classes, but Eddie stays on the bench for another moment, catching his breath and attempting to collect his thoughts.

Oh my god, he thinks. I was so, so wrong.

He’s not cute.

Eddie doesn’t cry often. You’d think he would—he’s always been kind of sensitive, the kind of boy who doesn’t complain when the class is reading Romeo and Juliet because he secretly really enjoys it. He’s sensitive, but he makes a point of not crying as much as would be expected of him. He’s not weak willed, and he’s not a crybaby. There’s a difference.

But everyone cries sometimes, right?

It was his mom. He came home late from studying with Bev and Sonia got mad. She must have screamed for 20 minutes straight. The loud, shrill tone of her voice combined with the harsh words she was spitting just cut into Eddie like a hot knife—not to mention the mean things she was saying about Bev. When Sonia was done with her attack, and convinced by the look on Eddie’s face that he wouldn’t do such a thing again, she sent him to his room without letting him get a word in. Which was for the best, because no matter how much he wanted to explode at her, and say all the things he’s been wanting to say for years, he knows that if given the chance, he’d freeze. Mouth closed and chest tight, he’d mutter out “I’m sorry, Mommy,” and do as he’s told. He thinks that’s part of why he’s crying.

He can’t be very loud, or his mom will hear, so his face is pressed into a pillow as he sobs. He guesses that this is all the tears he’s held in for however long it’s been, and now that the gates are open it’s hard to stop.

He doesn’t hear the first tap. The second one is a bit louder, enough for the noise to register in his mind but not enough for him to realize someone is trying to get his attention. The third one is a loud rapping, clearly on his window. He snaps his head up to see Richie, leaning his lanky body as far as it will go off of the tree next to his bedroom window. Eddie quickly wipes his face, as if there was any chance in hiding what he was just doing. He scrambles over to the window and opens it.

“What are you doing here?” He asks, his voice thick with tears.

Richie’s brows are furrowed. “Let me in,” he says softly.

Eddie doesn’t have it in him to protest. And besides, the boy is literally about to fall out of the tree. He opens the latch more, to make a space large enough for Richie to fit through without getting squished. He eventually stumbles in, landing on his feet with whatever the opposite of grace is. His eyes are immediately filled with concern.

“What’s wrong, why are you crying?” He asks, putting a hand on Eddie’s arm.

“It was just my mom, it’s whatever,” Eddie sniffs. “Why are you here?”

Richie hesitates. “Bev called. She said you left a binder at her house so she called here and your mom answered…and that someone should check to see if you were okay.”

Eddie cringes. “So my mom yelled at her?” He asks, already knowing the answer.

Richie doesn’t respond, but the silence is answer enough. Eddie feels tears start to burn behind his eyes again, and he squeezes them shut before they can fall. His fists press into the sockets of his eyes, willing himself to not cry in front of Richie. But he takes a deep breath in, and on the exhale, his body lets out a strangled sob against his own will.

He immediately feels Richie’s arms wrap around him, and the light pressure of being pushed towards his bed. As he sits down, he lets himself fall into Richie, shaking and crying as hard as he ever has. The tears are falling freely, now, not being pushed in by his fists or his own mind. And it feels a lot better to cry into Richie’s chest than it did to cry into his pillow. He curls into himself, forming a ball as he’s rocked by the boy holding him. One of Richie’s hands is in his hair, petting his head. The other is rubbing up and down his back in a soothing motion. There’s a quiet whisper, too. In a hushed voice, Richie is repeating himself over and over.

“Shh,” he says. “It’ll be okay. You’re okay.”

Soon after Eddie registers these words, his tears are slowing down. His hands stop shaking as fiercely, and his breathing evens out just a little bit more. Once his state of mind is regained, he can’t help but feel embarrassed.

“I’m sorry,” he says, pulling himself out of Richie’s arms. Richie lets him go, but he keeps a hand on Eddie’s shoulder, rubbing his thumb up and down on the boy’s collarbone absently.

“Don’t be sorry,” he murmurs, keeping his gaze on Eddie’s face even as the other avoids his eye.

Eddie sniffles, but doesn’t say anything else.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Richie probes.

Eddie shrugs. “It’s nothing, I just-“ he cuts himself off as he feels a lump form in his throat once more. “I really hate my mom sometimes.”

Richie nods sympathetically and pulls Eddie into his chest again. He presses his cheek to the top of Eddie’s curls, and for a moment, they just breathe together. After a few minutes of this, Richie breaks the silence.

“Look, Eds, about your mom,” he says, pulling back to look at Eddie’s face.

Eddie exhales sharply through his nose. “I really don’t wanna hear an ‘I fucked your mom’ joke right now, Rich,” he mumbles.

Richie is stunned quiet for just a second. “I wasn’t going to make one.”

Eddie blinks. “Oh.”

“I was just gonna say that I’m sorry, and that she shouldn’t treat you that way. It’s shitty.”

Eddie almost cries again. Not because he’s upset about his mom this time, but because this is Richie. Richie is sitting in front of him, being honest, and genuine, and not making any jokes at Eddie’s expense and holding him when he’s sad and Eddie could just about die. Because god, he likes Richie so, so much. And now, Richie is just staring at him, holding his arm so gently it’s like he thinks he’ll break it if he’s too firm, and Eddie can’t help the words that tumble out of his mouth.

“I wanna show you something,” he says, standing up. He walks across the room, causing Richie to turn his body around completely, facing the chalkboard that had been previously (and conveniently) out of his view.

WHY I don’t like Richie:

1. He’s gross.

2. His jokes.

3. He’s not cute.

4. He doesn’t take anything seriously.

Richie’s eyes scan the words for a few seconds, and he gets up to join Eddie in front of the board.

His expression is unreadable as he stares, and every second that goes by without a word makes Eddie’s heart pound faster and faster.

Richie visibility swallows, and he brings his arms up to cross them in front of his chest.

“Wow, Eds,” he says, a weak smile on his lips. “This is…mean.”

It’s clear that he’s trying to seem unbothered, but it’s also clear that he is very, very bothered. Eddie picks up the piece of chalk underneath it and strikes a line through the last sentence.

He doesn’t take anything seriously.

Richie follows the movement with his eyes. He doesn’t uncross his arms.

“I know,” Eddie says. “I’m sorry.”

Richie just shrugs. “It’s whatever,” he murmurs. “I’m kind of confused. But it’s fine.”

Eddie’s face looks pained, like Richie’s words are physically harmful to him. “I just. I tried so hard to convince myself that I…” He trails off, gesturing vaguely.

“But I was wrong,” he continues, his voice a bit stronger. “That’s why they’re all crossed out. You didn’t even know I made the list but you proved me wrong for every single one.”

Richie’s eyebrows raise minutely, and he uncrosses his arms in exchange for lifting a hand towards the board, in a question.

“Wait, when it says you don’t like me, that means-“

“Yeah,” Eddie cuts him off. “It means.”

Eddie thinks he must look terrified.

Richie turns to make searing eye contact with the boy next to him.

“But…you said you were wrong. So that means-“

“Yeah,” Eddie says, in a bit of a choked laugh. “That means, too.”

The look on Richie’s face is hard to read, but Eddie is hopeful, if only for the fact that Richie is still standing in front of him.

“Eds,” he whimpers. And before Eddie can even think to respond, Richie is pressing forward and closing their mouths together in a kiss. His hands come up to hold Eddie’s cheeks in his palms, and Eddie thinks he might explode.

Under their own volition, Eddie’s arms snake themselves around Richie’s neck, threading his fingers in dark curls as their lips move together. The kiss itself only lasts a few seconds, but when they pull away, Eddie is breathless.

They’re both quiet in the seconds after their lips part, neither knowing quite what to say or how to say it.

But, of course, Richie always knows how to break a silence.

“Would you mind erasing that list?” He says. Eddie laughs, and just nods his head, before untangling his hands from Richie’s hair and moving to grab the rag beside the board. Richie follows him, wrapping his arms around the boy’s waist from behind and resting his chin on his shoulder. He watches as Eddie erases the words on the board, maneuvering the rag around certain areas at the top, so all but 3 words are wiped clean.

        I         like Richie.

[coleymari-blog]

Cyber Space is Always Sweeter : Chapter 14

SUMMARY: LUCY IS A DOWN TO EARTH, STUDIOUS, RESPONSIBLE RUNAWAY ATTENDING MAGNOLIA COLLEGE. NATSU IS A RAMBUNCTIOUS, INTELLIGENT, PYROPHILIC FRATERNITY BOY GOING TO THE SAME SCHOOL.

THEY DON’T EXACTLY RUN IN THE SAME CIRCLES AND THEY HAVE ONE HELL OF A HISTORY. WHAT HAPPENS WHEN THE NAMES AND FACADES DISAPPEAR AND ALL THAT’S LEFT ARE WORDS BLINKING ON A SCREEN? MODERN DAY, COLLEGE/PEN PALS AU. I’M SORRY I SUCK AT INTROS. RATED M FOR LANGUAGE, ADULT SITUATIONS, AND FUTURE SEXUAL SITUATIONS. CHAPTERS 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13

The second Lucy walked in, Natsu knew he was in trouble.

The second the door shut behind her, it was like the grad student became physically unable to focus on anything but her. His mind eviscerated any useful thoughts on covalent bonding and instead replaced them with her. A short, pink ruffled skirt hung midway down her thighs and a plain white tank top clung to her curves deliciously. She’d left her golden locks down, allowing them to hang loosely across her pale shoulders. Her makeup was casual, accenting her chocolate brown eyes just enough to make Natsu feel like she was staring right through him.

With slightly flushed cheeks, Lucy made her way to the seat around the corner of the table from Natsu. Honestly, he was surprised by her choice, expecting her to sit across from him like she tended to do the past few weeks. Being alone and in such close proximity to the girl that had been on his mind for weeks didn’t seem like the best of ideas but what was he supposed to do? Move to another seat and make it painfully awkward? Cancel the session entirely under the guise of ‘too little attendance’? Shaking his head briefly, the TA came to his senses. It was like going into a fight, he couldn’t let his opponent catch onto his weaknesses or hear his racing heart.

“And here I was thinking I’d been completely stood up,” Natsu teased cooly with a chuckle, leaning back in his chair in an attempt at appearing casual and unbothered. Any more ‘casual’ and he probably would have fallen over like a complete dumbass. Real smooth, Dragneel.

Lucy’s cheeks blushed even harder (if that were even possible), tinging her face, neck, and shoulders in a color rivaling her wardrobe. He honestly thought it was one of the most intriguing things about her. Even when she’d stood up to him at the Greek Row party at the beginning of the semester, she had this subtle flush to her cheeks, like they were desperately trying to give away some major secret that the blonde freshman was too stubborn to share. The more basic side of him, however, simply wanted to believe that his presence was what had that sort of effect on her.

“Hard to forget when it’s a weekly thing,” Lucy replied, a playful undertone hiding in her voice. She bent down to her right in order to place her bag on the floor underneath the table, causing Natsu to hold back a feral growl when her top rode up her waist, exposing her hip and lower back. Her voice was what brought him back from the edge of depravity. “Guess everyone is too busy partying before the game tomorrow.”

The Frat boy wanted to slap himself. How could he have forgotten?! The following day was the college’s Homecoming, the Football team’s first home game of the season. No wonder the session was dead, the other students were probably too busy getting drunk and making complete fools of themselves. Granted, the year prior, he and Gray had almost gotten ‘detained’ by Campus Police for streaking across the college grounds with nothing but the school flag after the team had won, but it looked like this year was going to be incident (and fun) free. “With everything going on, the game completely skipped my mind,” Natsu explained, frowning slightly. At least he still had the next day to drink to his heart’s content.

Bringing them back to reality, the Teacher’s Assistant quickly logged into his laptop and began the tutoring session. Once they were on the subject of Chemistry, and Natsu was able to think with the correct head, the two of them worked in perfect sync. He was so proud of Lucy when she solved problems that he knew had been more difficult for her in the past and the small celebrations she made when she was right made all their combined effort worthwhile. That worksheet he had “found” and emailed her? Yeah, he spent four hours making the damn thing for her but it seemed to do the trick. That bright smile and victorious giggle were the best rewards he could have ever hoped for.

After about an hour, Lucy excused herself to get a drink from the vending machine, leaving Natsu alone to figure out how to survive the remaining hour. Being so close to her spiked his adrenaline like being on the edge of a cliff. Part of him wanted to make a move, to dive right off head first into the unknown waters below. The other part of him desperately wanted to respect her and her boundaries. She was technically his student for Gods’ sake. If Makarov knew about his “special showers”, the professor would have his head.

Then he thought about Starfire. Natsu’s stomach fell when he thought about the faceless girl somewhere out in Earthland. Why couldn’t she have been a student at M.C.? Why couldn’t he have met her through a Frat party or inter-college mixer? At least then she would be real. Lucy was right in front of him, regardless of how she felt about him. It was normal for him to think/dream/fantasize about someone he actually knew right? Before he could figure out an answer, Lucy was back and setting a can down on the table in front of him.

“Got you your favorite energy drink,” Lucy said calmly with a sweet smile, smoothing down her skirt before regaining her seat. He couldn’t even remember telling her which brand he preferred.  In that moment, something snapped inside of Natsu and suddenly making a decision was so much easier. Diving off the cliff was the only suitable option.

“Thanks, Lucy,” he replied, cracking it open and taking a sip in order to buy him some time while he plotted his next move. Reading women was like reading an enemy on the mat, one needed to be quiet and observant in order to truly anticipate the other’s actions. He watched as she brushed strands of her golden hair behind her ear before getting back to work on Natsu’s worksheet. She was breezing through it much to his chagrin, meaning at that rate, she’d finish before the last hour was up.  He knew it was greedy, but he wanted to keep her there with him as long as possible.

Shifting his upper body, Natsu leaned his arm on the tabletop as he continued to watch Lucy work, closing the gap between them slightly. While talking to women wasn’t exactly his best skill, he normally wasn’t that nervous. He was afraid that if he so much as said the wrong thing, she’d run like some kind of frightened woodland creature. “So…” he muttered, looking down at his laptop in order to give some semblance of control. “Are you going to the game tomorrow with your friends?” Regardless of how many clicks he made on the keyboard, he stayed on the same web page, focusing on her and her response.

“Levy and her boyfriend are going tailgating with Fairy Tail,” Lucy explained, jotting down her scratch work for one of the formulas. Her teeth trapped her bottom lip as she figured it out, causing that carnal side of Natsu to want to do the same. “Figured I would just sit in the student section and watch.”

“Your first college Homecoming and you’re not gonna tailgate?” Natsu replied, unable to hide the shock in his voice. He couldn’t imagine going to the football games without spending the day partying and hanging out with his brothers and friends. It made the experience all that much better. No way could Lucy miss out on such a rite of passage. “Why don’t you come too? Fairy Tail always has plenty of booze to share and more than enough tent space.” They always sent the pledges to the Student Lot super early to settle the best spot possible. He grinned brightly at the young freshman. “What do you say?”

Lucy pondered the idea for a moment before answering, her smile saying everything Natsu needed to hear. “That sounds fun!” she answered excitedly, causing the pinket’s grin to grow. A day spent drinking, playing games, and spending time with Lucy sounded more than perfect to him. She blushed softly once more before turning her attention to solely focus on Natsu. “Thank you for inviting me.”

The tutoring session continued in the normal fashion, Lucy asking questions with Natsu explaining them a million different way so she would fully understand. She was working on a particular problem while he was scouring his student email for something about Rush Week before he decided to take another chance. Slowly and gently, Natsu brushed his knee against Lucy’s, never taking his gaze away from his screen but watching her from his peripheral vision. The blushing returned with fervor but what happened next was completely unexpected. Coughing, Lucy shifted and crossed her legs, running her shin against his thigh.

Did she think she was smooth?

Surprisingly, Lucy left her leg right where it landed, her knee resting against his. Even though it was through his jeans, Natsu felt like he’d been struck by lightning and he was suddenly more aware of her presence. The smell of vanilla and jasmine overtook him, the sound of her tapping her pencil against the desktop, everything made Natsu feel like he was on fire. Her next question shattered him into a million pieces.

“So how’s that Lisanna girl?” Natsu noted a hint of something like jealousy in her voice but it still pained him.

“Wouldn’t really know, she’s with one of my brothers now,” he replied, making sure to sound as apathetic as possible. If he was being honest, Natsu had barely even thought about her since meeting Lucy, except when it was something negative. “Don’t hang out much with Lily Heart girls anyway.” For multiple reasons.

Lucy giggled at his response. The sound was almost angelic. “I hope I don’t run into them much during Rush next week,” she said softly. Natsu was confused almost immediately. Was she going through Rush again? That took bravery, something that the grad student admired immensely.

Natsu grinned, puffing out his chest playfully. “Well, if they give you any trouble, you come to me and I’ll handle it. Sound good?” The look in her eyes said it all, gratitude, respect, appreciation, and just a flicker of romantic intent (okay, maybe he was dreaming up that last one). But there was one thing he knew, he’d defend her from the world if it meant her looking at him like that...

[thegrandjester]

She was the most brilliant person I had ever met, really.

It all started in the third grade when we first met. Delilah was bouncing a red rubber ball in the schoolyard where I was playing a rousing game of solo hopscotch. The ball hit the edge of her shoe and rolled into my line of sight, whereupon I decided it looked infinitely more entertaining than hopscotch. I picked the ball up off the concrete and turned to walk away.

"Hey!" Delilah yelled, "That's mine!"

"No it's not," I responded, "it rolled over to me. I'm playing with it now so it's mine."

"Nuh-uh. It's mine until recess is over." She said as she stalked across the playground toward me.

"Says who?" I replied rather smugly, as Delilah was a good 4 inches shorter than me at the time. "Nobody made a rule that you get to keep it the whole time. I say that the ball is mine to play with now so it's mine."

Delilah seemed to consider that for a moment. A thoughtful look passed across her face before she nodded to herself, looked me in the eye, and punched me square in the nose.

"HEY THAT HURT!" I yelped, bringing my hands up to my nose and dropping the ball that she immediately scooped into her tiny arms. "That's against the rules, I'm telling the teacher!"

The school aide saw the blood beginning to drip from my nose and quickly ran inside for help. Delilah didn't seem bothered by this at all.

"Well who made the rules?" She demanded, looking up at me with sharp blue eyes, "And why do I have to follow them? You took the ball I wanted to play with so I got it back, fair and square."

"She has a point." I thought, as a teacher ran over and started to drag us toward the principle's office.

As we sat outside the office in uncomfortable brown chairs waiting for our parents, we talked about rules, who made them, why we had to follow them, and ultimately decided it was because adults were much bigger, stronger, and had money to buy us things that we were forced to listen to them.

From that day forward we became best friends. Weekend sleepovers, pool parties, and summers spent in the ocean broke up the monotony of elementary, jr. high, and high school.

It was there that I discovered my love of science, particularly hydrology, otherwise known as the study of water. Hydrogen, oxygen, covalent and ionic bonds, unique properties, states of matter, all of it fascinated me.

It was during high school that most people's special interests formed the beginning of their Elemental Bonds. Freshman year I could manipulate small puddles and form weak ripples. Sophomore year I could stir liquids together in a glass. Junior year I could create waves in a bathtub. By our Senior year I could float water through the air for a few meters and loosely direct it to a target.

I was lucky in the sense that I only had one special interest. Many people had several and as a result only knew enough about each one to have a weak Elemental Bond. Party tricks like warming stone drink coasters and shocking friends with static electricity were common. Most adult decided not to develop their Bonds fully- as it took years of practice and dedication to learn enough to be a true master.

Doctorate degrees were coveted, as they guaranteed you would know enough to become a master of your Elemental Bond. Highly gifted and trained individuals were constantly on the news- a doctor isolating cancer cells with her mind, a firefighter stopping a raging wildfire by sucking the oxygen out of the air and suffocating it, scientists saving ecosystems by implementing small tweaks in the environment to get it back on track.

Delilah carried my blasé "Says who?" comment through the years, and applied it to everything. No matter the situation, she wanted to know why. Why do we say this? Why do you do that? Where did you learn that saying from? When did this tradition start?

Psychology wasn't something that our high school specialized in. One or classes covered the subject, so Delilah was mostly self-read aspiring psychologist. She devoured book after book on the history of psychology, brain chemistry, electrical impulses, synapses, jargon I couldn't understand but she loved to use just to confuse me. She never seemed to develop a strong Elemental Bond, but I figured that I was because her special interest was so abstract and she never had an expert teacher. Maybe it would come when she finally went off to her dream school to study.

At first, I didn't think much of how popular she became toward the end of high school. She was beautiful, brilliant, a little awkward but everyone was willing to overlook it. She had a killer sense of humor but was too shy to use it on anyone but me. Still, I was happy (if not a little jealous) for all the friends she made because I knew I would always be her number one BFF.

In fact, I was probably because of how much I loved her that I didn't notice anything was off until 2 weeks before graduation.

For all the punch she could pack in her still-skinny arms, Delilah was a clutz. She tripped over her own two feet constantly, much to my comic delight and her dismay. That Tuesday night she had stayed up late studying for a test, so by lunch on Wednesday afternoon she looked exhausted enough to fall asleep while standing. The tray she was holding tipped toward her, smearing bits of iceberg lettuce, ranch dressing, and shredded carrot down the front of her black shirt.

Students pointed and giggled of course, and I had never seen her turn more red in our lives. She bolted into the restroom and refused to come out till everyone had gone back inside for class. By the time she came out, the tear tracks on her cheeks were barely visible.

"Hey it's okay," I soothed, "we only have to deal with this for a couple more weeks, and then we're free! Just think of that amazing university you got into, you'll be the world's best psychologist in no time, and they won't even remember this happened."

A strange look passed across her face, but she nodded, sniffled, and let me walk her home.

"Great." I thought. "If anyone mentions this tomorrow she's going to be too embarrassed to function. As popular as she is, she's so ridicoulsly self-conscious it just doesn't make sense."

But the next day no one mentioned it. At first I thought they were being kind because it was common knowledge how sensitive Delilah was, but then I realized that they just didn't remember it. Even the teacher wrote the previous day's date on all their papers like it never even happened.

Delilah wouldn't look me in the eyes all day in class, and in between classes she ran ahead and avoided me. By the time I caught her it was after school and time to head home.

She was standing in our usual spot, smiling, laughing, talking to a gaggle of girls about nothing until she saw me coming. Suddenly, the easy camaraderie died down and her acquaintances all decided to leave in quiet synch.

"What's going on Delilah? Why does no one remember yesterday? Why are you avoiding me?"

She looked guilty and afraid.

"I'll explain everything," she said, "just... just promise not to be mad or hate me."

"I could never hate you," I said, shocked. "Your my best friend, I just want to know what's going on."

We started walking home as she spoke.

"Psychology has fascinated me for a long time," she said, "I've always wanted to know how people think, why, and where our thoughts come from. It turns out, everything is just generated from electrical impulses in our brain that we interpret as the reality around us. Everything we know is a construct that we've developed to help us make sense of the senseless. None of it is real. It's all just particles and light, the way we interpret touch is also just electrical impulses going up our nerves into our brains. Who can really say what's real and what isn't? Feelings, society, mass and matter, we've quantified it in a way that fits our view of the universe, but that doesn't make it real! The only thing we really know is that we don't know. If you can control your mind and your thoughts, you can control reality."

She raised her hands in front of her.

"All it takes is a little shift.

Knowledge is power. The more you know about something, the more you can command it’s very particles and existence.

Explain how you made friends with someone who can warp reality itself.

[flyawang]

Frida and Diego (Drabble) Reader x Jaebum

“There have been two great accidents in my life. One was the trolley, and the other was Diego. Diego was by far the worst.” -Frida Kahlo

Genre- Angst

Word Count- 394

Warning- mentions of a dysfunctional relationship and cheating

How could you summon the essence of him, of this, into the pitiful need banging from the inside of your chest? The dysfunction in this relationship was overwhelmingly apparent, but you accepted it. He thrived off of it. 

Im Jaebum

He was the epitome of addictive. His words seeped into your bloodstream like a narcotic, bringing your dopamine and serotonin levels to an all time high. Like the ever changing drug market, he kept you on your toes. He could morph from being cold as ice, to neutral flowing water, to anger evaporating into thin air. But one thing was for sure- his chemical makeup stayed the same. He was always your Jaebum and you were always the covalent bond that held him together. 

You were toxic. He was too. The coupled effect of each others’ poison running through each others’ systems was not healthy. But you didn’t need health, you needed him. Perhaps this magnetized relationship was caused by your immaturity, his stubbornness, the constant thrill of the game you two played. The sick games that preyed on the darkness of this relationship and the darkness of humanity. Jaebum would venture off for a night of fucking, away from you, testing your reaction. You would do the same to him. He was the ice to your fire. 

Sure, there were cracks and crevices and grotesque scars in this conjunction, but buds of color peaked out from the hell beneath. Sprouts of utter satisfaction and love wove into the scarring. He saw beauty in everything- admiring the deep crimson pouring out from the words you spoke. You tried to create beauty in everything. You’d think that after a handful of times of trying to rehabilitate things to be beautiful, you’d stop. But how could you? Jaebum was perfection in itself. He was the one thing you didn’t have to mend. He was the final draft of beauty that you yearned for. 

At the end of the day, this was fucking tiring. And so a little fraction of the jealousy you felt when he decided to sleep around was reserved for relief. You were able to take a moment for yourself. Because you knew that those other girls were merely weak hydrogen bonds, while you were part of his chemical makeup. You despised yourself sometimes because you were aware of how shitty and fucked up you were. 

The rest of the world seemed to fade away. Criticisms seem to all sound the same after awhile but you knew that nobody could understand. The push and the pull, the love and the screams, the peace and the chaos- the two of you made up an oxymoron. He was the best thing and he was also the worst thing. Jaebum made you feel alive but he destroyed every piece of you. The best two words to describe him was a beautiful tragedy. He was your Diego. You were his Frida. 

Thank you reading my first drabble! Requests are currently open because literally no one follows me and I’m this nobody on this huge website with freaking amazing authors. Once again, thanks a ton for reading and know that you are beautiful and wonderful. And yes my theme sucks right now but my computer won’t let me change it so please bear with me for now!

-Fay 

[dorcasrempel]

Double-sided tape for tissues could replace surgical sutures

Inspired by a sticky substance that spiders use to catch their prey, MIT engineers have designed a double-sided tape that can rapidly seal tissues together.

In tests in rats and pig tissues, the researchers showed that their new tape can tightly bind tissues such as the lungs and intestines within just five seconds. They hope that this tape could eventually be used in place of surgical sutures, which don’t work well in all tissues and can cause complications in some patients.

“There are over 230 million major surgeries all around the world per year, and many of them require sutures to close the wound, which can actually cause stress on the tissues and can cause infections, pain, and scars. We are proposing a fundamentally different approach to sealing tissue,” says Xuanhe Zhao, an associate professor of mechanical engineering and of civil and environmental engineering at MIT and the senior author of the study.

The double-sided tape can also be used to attach implantable medical devices to tissues, including the heart, the researchers showed. In addition, it works much faster than tissue glues, which usually take several minutes to bind tightly and can drip onto other parts of the body.

Graduate students Hyunwoo Yuk and Claudia Varela are the lead authors of the study, which appears today in Nature. Other authors are MIT graduate student Xinyu Mao, MIT assistant professor of mechanical engineering Ellen Roche, Mayo Clinic critical care physician Christoph Nabzdyk, and Brigham and Women’s Hospital pathologist Robert Padera.

A tight seal

Forming a tight seal between tissues is considered to be very difficult because water on the surface of the tissues interferes with adhesion. Existing tissue glues diffuse adhesive molecules through the water between two tissue surfaces to bind them together, but this process can take several minutes or even longer.

The MIT team wanted to come up with something that would work much faster. Zhao’s group had previously developed other novel adhesives, including a hydrogel superglue that provides tougher adhesion than the sticky materials that occur in nature, such as those that mussels and barnacles use to cling to ships and rocks.

To create a double-sided tape that could rapidly join two wet surfaces together, the team drew inspiration from the natural world — specifically, the sticky material that spiders use to capture their prey in wet conditions. This spider glue includes charged polysaccharides that can absorb water from the surface of an insect almost instantaneously, clearing off a small dry patch that the glue can adhere to.

To mimic this with an engineered adhesive, the researchers designed a material that first absorbs water from wet tissues and then rapidly binds two tissues together. For water absorption, they used polyacrylic acid, a very absorbent material that is used in diapers. As soon as the tape is applied, it sucks up water, allowing the polyacrylic acid to quickly form weak hydrogen bonds with both tissues.

These hydrogen bonds and other weak interactions temporarily hold the tape and tissues in place while chemical groups called NHS esters, which the researchers embedded in the polyacrylic acid, form much stronger bonds, called covalent bonds, with proteins in the tissue. This takes about five seconds.

To make their tape tough enough to last inside the body, the researchers incorporated either gelatin or chitosan (a hard polysaccharide found in insect shells). These polymers allow the adhesive to hold its shape for long periods of time. Depending on the application that the tape is being used for, the researchers can control how fast it breaks down inside the body by varying the ingredients that go into it. Gelatin tends to break down within a few days or weeks in the human body, while chitosan can last longer (a month or even up to a year).

“Combining two innovative concepts, the research team succeeded in adhering quickly and effectively to the wet and soft surface of a tissue, and in maintaining good adhesion and mechanical properties for several days without causing too much inflammatory response,” says Costantino Creton, a research director at ESPCI Paris, who was not involved in the research.

Rapid healing

This type of adhesive could have a major impact on surgeons’ ability to seal incisions and heal wounds, Yuk says. To explore possible applications for the new double-sided tape, the researchers tested it in a few different types of pig tissue, including skin, small intestine, stomach, and liver. They also performed tests in pig lungs and trachea, showing that they could rapidly repair damage to those organs.

“It’s very challenging to suture soft or fragile tissues such as the lung and trachea, but with our double-sided tape, within five seconds we can easily seal them,” Yuk says.

The tape also worked well to seal damage to the gastrointestinal tract, which could be very useful in preventing leakage that sometimes occurs following surgery. This leakage can cause sepsis and other potentially fatal complications.

“I anticipate tremendous translational potential of this elegant approach into various clinical practices, as well as basic engineering applications, in particular in situations where surgical operations, such as suturing, are not straightforward,” says Yu Shrike Zhang, an assistant professor of medicine at Harvard Medical School, who was not involved in the research.

Implanting medical devices within the body is another application the MIT team is exploring. Working with Roche’s lab, the researchers showed that the tape could be used to firmly attach a small polyurethane patch to the hearts of living rats, which are about the size of a thumbnail. Normally this kind of procedure is extremely complicated and requires an experienced surgeon to perform, but the research team was able to simply stick the patch on with their tape by pressing for a few seconds, and it stayed in place for several days.

In addition to the polyurethane heart patch, the researchers found that the tape could successfully attach materials such as silicone rubber, titanium, and hydrogels to tissues.

“This provides a more elegant, more straightforward, and more universally applicable way of introducing an implantable monitor or drug delivery device, because we can adhere to many different sites without causing damage or secondary complications from puncturing tissue to affix the devices,” Yuk says.

The researchers are now working with doctors to identify additional applications for this kind of adhesive and to perform more tests in animal models.

The research was funded by the National Science Foundation and the Office of Naval Research.

Double-sided tape for tissues could replace surgical sutures syndicated from https://osmowaterfilters.blogspot.com/