#semester the eagle

[eminsunnytoons123]

Adventures of Geometric shaped muppets:

~Kermit joins the Group~

Since I have created Pyramid Lew Zealand, hexagon Janice, square miss piggy, Pyramid fozzie, Pyramid sam eagle... Heres nor Pyramid Kermit =^_^=

In this picture, the six muppets I have created are surrounding Kermit, obviously wishing him a warm welcome =^_^=

Oh! And I have posted some videos of these cute Geometric shaped muppets on my Instagram, so go And check them out =^_^= And the pyramid sam eagle is actually sam's like son, his name is actually "semester" =^.^= I know his name is kinda weird ^////^;

And also! I'll create everyone as Geometric shaped =^_^=

I hope y'all will like this =^_^= 💘💓💕

[starlightartemis]

If I play my cards right (read: study my ass off), i should be free from uni just in time to hop onto the field campaign to release 2 rehabilitated eagles

[chimielie]

cw: reader is a business major. read tags if concerned about canon deviation

kuroo’s schedule this semester is insane.

he’s working part time to cover housing because his roommate dropped out without telling him, he’s taking something like fifty labs all worth half a credit each (only a slight exaggeration), and, worst of all, there’s no time in his day to see you.

he misses you. you’re trying to buck up and not be needy, but he can see it in your eyes, in the way you always fall right into his arms every time you do see each other, like you need to sate your skin-hunger because you don’t know when you’ll see him next. he appreciates your understanding, but… he misses you, too.

he’d set up a fucking chart, made you fill in your weekly schedule, overlapping his, until he found a hole in both.

“it’ll have to be while i do homework,” he’d said, foot tapping anxiously, “is that okay?”

“of course,” you’d given him your easy, sunny smile, and he planted his face in your lap and moved your hand to muss his hair more.

now, he looks over at you fondly, lying on your back spread-eagle in his bed. it’s something you rarely get to do, since he’s usually crammed in it with you. you sleep holding hands, when you stay the night, locked together like sea otters drifting on the waves.

he’s exiled to the desk next to the bed, though, working through reactions of aromatics and sneaking longing glances at your prone form.

“do you wanna—”

“i’m not in chemistry for a reason,” your voice floats up from the bed, though your eyes stay peacefully closed. “do your molecule splitting or whatever yourself.”

“mean,” kuroo says, pushing his chair back and running his hands through his hair. “what if i was gonna say ‘do you wanna cuddle?’”

“mm, you weren’t,” you say. “i said that earlier and you were all, no, babe, i have to finish my lab workbook because the—”

“i know what i said,” he grumbles. “go back to sleep.”

“okay,” you say. “i believe in you. or whatever. good luck.”

“thanks.” he picks up his pencil again for a moment, then tilts his chair back, tipping his head backward, hands braced on the desk. his room is so small he’s almost touching the bed. you tilt your head to the side, eyes opening the slightest bit. “what am i even doing this for?”

“because it’s your passion, honey.” one of your hands rests on your stomach, just beneath the hem of your shirt. that’s where he likes to hold you.

“but you’re gonna be the one making all the money,” he whines. “and all you have to do is make a bunch of supply demand graphs all day.”

“yep,” you say brightly, “but i make those graphs so you can be my stay at home husband someday. so watch your mouth.”

“fine,” he grumbles, righting his chair. “that’s what i’m doing this for. to be your househusband.”

“that’s right,” you say encouragingly. “work hard, tetsurō.”

as he settles back into the flow of his work and your breath eases into the steady rhythm of the sleeping, he looks at you again, now facedown in his pillows, one arm curled around the space where he should be. the melody of a life taking shape rings in his ears; for a second, he can see it. a house with a yard, with a garden, with a kitchen where you kiss his cheek while he cooks dinner and where he spins you after a couple glasses of wine. light suffuses him; he gets back to work.

[olowan-waphiya]

So for my final semester before I get my BA, I am doing an unofficial study!! If you have any kind of knowledge or experience with eagles, eagle feathers or just have an opinion on them, please consider filling out my questionnaire. I would be so, so thankful for any insight. I am interested in the power and meaning given to the eagle and their feathers---especially by Indigenous peoples but I am also open to responses from non-natives if you feel compelled to respond.

Please share this if you're not able to respond! I would so so appreciate it!

[alfredosauce50]

Night at the Museum

[America x reader]

Rating: M Word count: 5, 887 Synopsis: You and Alfred decide to visit New York’s Museum of Natural History for old time’s sake. In a stroke of bad luck, you two get locked in overnight, unaware and unprepared for the dangers lurking within. It’s where history comes alive, and he ends up in a dangerous game of cat and mouse with a bloodthirsty warlord. The whole time, he’s also wrestling with his feelings for you, and he doesn’t know which is harder. Solipsism: knowledge of anything outside one’s own mind is unsure; the external world and other minds cannot be known and might not exist outside the mind.

“The more you know about the past, the better prepared you are for the future.” — Theodore Roosevelt

“Man, we haven’t been here since we were little kids,” Alfred took it all in as he made it inside, to where he was greeted by the skeleton of Tyrannosaurus rex in an awe-inspiring pose. With its head bowed toward the entrance, he and other patrons were greeted by a set of razor-sharp teeth grinning down with a hunger for the ages. “I wonder if anything’s changed. Probably a lot.”

“A bunch of stuff, actually. But it looks like they did a huge revamp on all the wax figures,” You lifted your gaze from a brochure you collected from the front. The museum of natural history wasn’t half as impressive as the Smithsonian, but it had a special place in both of your hearts. “They’re meant to be super realistic now. You know, the whole ‘history comes alive’ pizazz.”

“Huh. Then what would be the difference between here and Madame Tussaud’s?” He glanced at you.

“The people here are worth remembering.”

“Good point.”

As local New Yorkers, it was tradition to come back every once in a while. Yellow cabs, subway crazies, and the best pizza in the world — there was no other city quite like the Big Apple, and you two decided to swing by during your semester break to reconnect with your roots. Needless to say, it was nice to get away from the upbeat chaos of life on campus.

“You think you’re gonna go to Arthur’s Christmas party?” He asked you, peering around the room of American history. There was a shining stagecoach pulled by four black horses, mannequins in confederate and union uniforms with their guns trained at each other, a giant moose, and eagles watching over everything else.

“Well, we kinda have to. Can you imagine how upset he’d be if we didn’t? He’d probably be heartbroken.”

“Yeah, but I get crazy diarrhea every time.” He scoffed, eyes wide as he recalled blowing up the toilet last year.

”You don’t have to remind me.” You shuddered.

“I know, I was just saying. I was thinking we could go somewhere fun,” Alfred gave you an expectant look as he tried to sell you on it. “We could go skating, or just watch a movie back at my place. What do you say?”

“Hm, I don’t know. I’m really craving his scones.”

“Seriously?” 

”But not as much as our time together,” You smiled, watching him light up. Taking his hand, you pulled him along and said this with a laugh. “I’d rather go to the dumpster with you than the Met. You’re my best friend.”

“Yeah.” He softened his gaze. You said that, but the way you held his hand said otherwise. Or was it because you two were that close? Either way, he was starting to go down the pipeline he swore that he wouldn’t.

”Are you okay?” You asked.

”Yeah, I’m fine.” He adjusted his glasses.

“Wanna kiss it better?” You swung his arm playfully.

Alfred glared at you as the only diversion from the fact that he was blushing. It was so like you to say things like that. You were attractive, and you knew it. With your sense of humor, it made for a dangerous game. But he’d been playing it for a while. He covered your entire face with his hand, then pushed you down to a nearby bench in one clean movement.

”Hey!” 

“Hey yourself.” Alfred walked off with his hands in his pockets, as cool as a cucumber.

This might’ve been all fun and games with you, but you weren’t the loneliest animal on the planet here. Not that it made his feelings for you any less real. He liked you, and not because you were an idea in his head.

You were real, every strange thought and neuron of your imagination. You could be as sharp as a tack when you wanted to be. He loved your mind and the way it worked, or at least when you weren’t tantalizing him.

“Remember when we were little we used to take baths together?” You sprung up out of the blue.

”Barely.” Alfred exhaled, wildly unprepared for what just came out of your mouth. But before he reacted any further, he reminded himself just who he was talking to. “That’s probably why we did it in the first place. Why?”

You were sleeping over that time, as you always did every Friday after your philosophy class. Your things were strewn all over his bedroom, like a half-eaten cup noodle, some snacks, and the clothes you brought over.

While he browsed the rest of the displays in the room, he let himself get immersed in that particular memory.

That was when you caught up with him again, even having the nerve to smile up at him with ‘hehe’ written all over your face. He glowered down at you, but really, he was just happy that you were by his side again.

You had a thirty second rebound before doing or saying the next pain in the ass thing, but he forgave you even faster than that. And it had been that way since horseshoe crabs were the only thing roaming the Earth.

”You think we could fit in the bathtub?”

“If you’re asking if I wanna take a bath with you, it’s an immediate no. We’re way too old for that.”

“You don’t have to be such a prude,” You mumbled, rolling your head away. “I was just wondering.”

“I’m not a prude.” He grumbled.

“And it’s not like I haven’t seen your dick before.”

“Yeah, when I was little!” 

“Can’t imagine it’s grown much since then.”

He glared at the ceiling, not wanting to give you the satisfaction of seeing how embarrassed he was.

As much as he’d like to pull his pants down to prove you wrong, he didn’t. Someone had to uphold a sense of decency around here, even if that person had to be him, the worst possible example of it, if he was one at all.

“If you’re done, I’m gonna go to sleep,” He sat up and twisted around to fluff up his pillow. You were starting to drift off by then, but he didn’t let you off so easily. “Don’t let me catch you peeking or I’ll molest you.”

“I wasn’t planning on it, geez.”

And to think he used to be such a cute kid, kicking his ball over your fence just so he could come over to play. You both grew up since then, and with that, came his awful sense of humor among other things.

But if you asked him, he learned from the best.

“You know the nicest people make the best Nazis?” You asked, walking by a glass display of three wax figures. Sakagawea, a young Shoshone woman who guided Lewis and Clarke on their expedition to the Pacific.

“Do they?” He narrowed his eyes in interest.

“Nice people look the other way and just wanna get along with everybody else.” You said, towing him along. “Have the whole country doing that, plus a heap of propaganda, you could get away with anything.”

“Well, if I was a German, I wouldn’t buy into it.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Alfred frowned, genuinely offended. “I’m not a freakin’ racist.”

”Being scorned is your kryptonite,” You pointed out, getting him to roll his eyes. So he didn’t like to deviate from standards, and being a raving right-wing was one at the time. “And trust me when I say you would be.”

”That’s why the second amendment exists,” He smiled sagely with a hint of mischief. “If the government was to push some crazy agenda into us, the rednecks wouldn’t have it. We shape society to what we want.”

”What if the society you want isn’t the society someone else wants?” You asked, stopping in front of an exhibit of a male Algonquin warrior. “We all worship something. What’s normal to you might be crazy for someone else.”

”I guess you’re right,” He agreed, gazing upon the person who lived — and believed — in things drastically different than did. His brows came together as he marveled at the man who stood over him, a chief’s son who had been dead for well over a thousand years.

Allen was his name. He had striking scarlet eyes, dark maroon hair, tawny brown skin, and a toned body from a life of hunting and gathering. As he stared out into the middle distance, there was something uncanny about him, like he could come alive at any second, but didn’t.

“What do you think this guy worshipped?” Alfred murmured faintly, strangely captivated by him.

It was humbling to be in the presence of all of these historical figures, but intimidating to imagine them as people who existed. He was a history nut, and one thing he understood was how astonishingly cruel and violent the past could be. From the swashbuckling tales of the Wild West to the burning sands of Ancient Egypt, everything was best enjoyed from the comforts of his modern American home. Or in this case, a museum.

Where all of the exhibits were mere imitations of the long dead and gone, it would take no less than a miracle for any of them to come back to life. Little did he know, a miracle was exactly what he’d be in for tonight. 

You two poked around some more, eventually ending up in the Northern European section of the museum. Nothing really stood out to him besides the Vikings, who also caught the attention of the general public.

“This man was the greatest viking to have ever lived. Mathias Densen, the king of Danes,” A guide showed off a wax exhibit to a crowd of tourists. You and Alfred were among them, having taken the liberty to tune in.

Some took pictures, others whispered amongst themselves at the impressive lookalike made to imitate a legend out of the sagas. He had blonde hair swept up in the front in an unruly mane, and the bluest eyes you’ve ever seen. With his arm raised and axe in hand, he was frozen in time, suspended in a pose so natural, it looked like he’d bring it down at any given moment.

“He was the most feared warrior in all of Scandinavia. When he threw an axe at his enemy, he never missed. But all blood and gore aside, he will go down in history as one of the best leaders and explorers of all time.”

”Wouldn’t wanna get him angry, huh?” Alfred gave you a side-eye, returning his gaze to the information plate. That was when he saw a portrait of a woman who was supposedly the only one who could go toe-to-toe with his ruthlessness. “You know, she kinda looks like you.”

”Really?” You leaned over. “I don’t see it.”

”No way. You guys are like twins!” He exclaimed.

“Maybe just the eyes.”

“Maybe she’s your long-lost ancestor or something.”

After another hour of walking around and talking, you and Alfred left to get to the exit. It was approaching closing time, and you two were among the last to leave. A security guard stood near the revolving doors, bidding farewell to guests. But before he could acknowledge you two, Alfred stopped and patted around his shirt.

“Shit, I left my glasses.” He winced.

Neither of you two thought it would’ve been problem to go back and retrieve them at the time. Who would’ve thought they’d made the security so much tighter that it would end up the biggest mistake of your lives?

After sweeping room after room, he eventually found them on the ground next to a bench. Sliding them onto his nose, he picked up a brisk jog as he made his way back downstairs. But by then, it was too late.  

“Now let’s get out before we get locked in.”

”Don’t jinx us.” 

”Not gonna happen.” 

And he said that so confidently too. Because when he pushed at the revolving door, it didn’t budge. 

”What’s wrong?” You asked from behind. 

“Nothing, just give me a sec…” He rattled it a few more times, but to no avail. Then, he let out a heavy breath as he admitted the one thing he thought could never happen. “… Okay, I think we’re locked in.”

“You’re joking.” You blurted.

You brushed past him to give the door a strong shake, needing that same taste of defeat before believing it yourself. Sure enough, it was locked shut, and would likely stay locked all the way up til morning.

“Oh my God, we are. What are we gonna do?”

”Call the cops.” He suggested, pulling out his phone to dial 9-11. After a few tries, to which he stared at you tensely with it pressed up to his ear, he found that the call kept failing. “Annnnd the cops aren’t picking up.”

“Well, keep trying! Call Arthur or something.” 

For the next thirty minutes, you both paced around while trying to reach local government services, then friends or loved ones. It slowly became apparent that you two weren’t getting out anytime soon.

You weren’t the type to express it, let alone say it, but you were getting scared and uncomfortable.

So was he, but like hell he’d let it show. Not because he didn’t have the balls to admit it, but it was the last thing you needed right now. You weren’t looking at him, and he knew in an instant that you were on the verge.

“We’re not gonna make it out, are we?”

Alfred was crushed with so much guilt, he couldn’t even react when the lights dimmed, plunging the museum into a pitch-black darkness. His eyes stayed wide with remorse, even when he couldn’t see you anymore.

In that moment, he came over and hugged you as tight as he could, lips pursed in a deep frown. It wasn’t every day that he could hold you like this, but he set aside every shard of his shattered ego to do it.

Even if he had to do it in the dark.

There couldn’t be a better metaphor for his feelings. Alfred had always been too afraid to tell you how he felt, and if he did, he’d do it in a way that was hidden from plain sight. This was one of those times.

It was one thing to admit he was scared. It was another to say he was sorry. But telling you how much you truly meant to him was damn near impossible. So instead of doing any of the above, he let you sleep on him.

He had his back on a cold hard bench while you drifted away. There was no way he was getting any sleep tonight, but this was just his karma. So he stayed like that for the next few hours, to which you began to stir. 

“You good?” He asked in a soft murmur.

”Yeah,” You rubbed your eyes. “Just a little thirsty.”

”I’m pretty sure there’s a fountain outside.” He helped you up, putting on his glasses. “I’ll come with you.” 

”No, it’s fine.” You sighed, getting up to leave the room. 

”Hey,” Alfred softened his gaze, getting you to slow to a stop. He was so exhausted, all of his walls were coming down. And he couldn’t stand to bottle it up inside him any longer. “I’m sorry, okay? This was all my fault.”

”It’s okay. We can’t all be born perfect.” You cracked a smile, walking off. But the happy note only lasted so long once you got to the hallway outside. It was so dark, you could barely see the ground beneath you.

With nothing but the wall lamps to illuminate the empty halls, the institution turned into nothing but a graveyard: a dim labyrinth of the long dead and gone. And like all graveyards, there were ghosts.

The black outline of wax figures lined your peripherals, and you gazed at them nervously as you made your way to the fountain. After a few satisfying gulps, you began making your way back to the room. That was when you heard the echo of footsteps in the distance, too far away to have made sense at the time. Someone was at the end of the hall, and it couldn’t have been Alfred.

“Hello?” You called out to the source.

The shadow of a man appeared around the corner, the details of his wild, upswept hair showing up on the wall. When he revealed himself, he was covered head to toe in thick fur pelts and armor. Your eyes went wide ever so slowly, heart racing as you were struck with this realization. He was a spitting image of the viking you’d seen on display, but he wasn’t just an inanimate statue made of colored wax and glue. He was moving.

Breathing. 

He was alive.

Alfred waited patiently for you to come back, though he regretted letting you go out by yourself. It wasn’t like there was anything out there, but you must’ve been afraid under that bravado you showed him. If only he knew how wrong he’d been. As he sat on the bench, the museum slowly came to life. All of its waxy inhabitants, people gone for centuries, returned from the dead.

And the lights came back on, one by one.

The Viking’s chest heaved for the air that hadn’t filled his lungs in eons. And with eyes as blue as the oceans he sailed across, he stared at you like he had just seen a ghost. They had a light in them they never had before, a consciousness, a soul, and you stared right back. But the way he looked at you was like nothing you’d expect. There wasn’t a trace of hostility in his gaze, but something deeply emotional and coherent.

Not that any of that mattered to you.

You split, running from him as fast as you could and with more adrenaline than what you thought was humanly possible. But then again, what you witnessed was a testament to the impossible. The dead walked, and you were trapped in here with hundreds of them. Whipping your head over your shoulder, you let out a frightened cry when you saw him chasing you. 

Your screams echoed down the hall, and Alfred felt his blood go cold hearing them. But he forced himself to stand, and without a shred of hesitation, he ran outside to look for you. When you weren’t by the fountain, his heart sank to the pit of his stomach. And his face, now whiter than a sheet of paper. Where did you go?

“(F/N)!” He yelled, sprinting down the hall.

But more importantly, what was it that made you scream? Whatever it was, he knew he’d never forgive himself if something happened to you. The lights were now on, and he swore he could hear the tapping of what sounded like hundreds of footsteps. There was something around the corner, or someone, he just never would’ve anticipated it beyond his wildest imagination.

“Where are you?” Once be got around the turn, what he saw put a stopper to his thoughts, derailing them with the most fantastical thing he had ever seen. His eyes flew open, and his mouth went agape so he could let out a shaky breath. “What the hell is going on?”

Swathes of people dressed in cultural adornments and even objects were out and about, talking to each other in languages he couldn’t even begin to decipher. Inuits, African tribesmen, and Edwardian socialites walked along the halls like time had just shattered upon itself. Marble sculptures, copper statues, and other pieces of art were moving about like they weren’t made of some kind of rock. There was even a Terracotta soldier, who was accompanied by a Chinese dragon made entirely out of green jade. Elephants, rhinos, and giraffes passed by in a strangely calm fashion like this wasn’t their first rodeo in the museum. Everyone did, except for him. 

“No way.” He whispered, glancing left to right as he picked up a jog. If he wasn’t wrong, everything in the museum had come to life. Was he dreaming? He had to be. In his dazed stupor, he ran into a medieval knight. There was a loud clank, and he would’ve winced from how much it hurt if it weren’t for being spoken to. 

“Excuse me. Watch where you’re going!” 

“Sorry!” He blurted. “I’m so sorry.”

”That’s alright! But you look a bit pale there, kid. What seems to be the problem?” The knight questioned, still wearing his helmet and hiding his face. Aside from his silver armor, he wore pure white garments with a blood red cross — the signature outfit of a crusader knight.

“Oh, um, where do I start?” Alfred panted, speaking in a frazzled manner. Funnily enough, this was the straightest he’d been thinking now that someone was talking to him. “Oh, I know! How the hell is everyone and everything in this museum alive right now?”

“I’d normally have a better answer, but I’ve never read anything like this in the Bible,” The other scratched their head through their helmet inquisitively. “Maybe I missed a chapter. But honestly, I’m just as lost as you are.”

“I’m sorry, what?” 

“The Bible. The word of God. Haven’t you heard of it?”

”I know what the Bible is!” Alfred raised his voice into a frustrated hiss, but he instantly felt bad for it. “Sorry. I’m talking to a monk, here. I should be more respectful. But never mind that. I’m looking for my friend. I’m worried something happened to her.”

”I could help you look for her!” 

“That would be great, thank you.” 

”I’m Gilbert. Proud Templar Knight and brother from the Temple of Solomon.” They took off their helmet and held it against their hip, revealing a head of white hair and ruby-red eyes. Then, they outstretched a gloved hand for him with a toothy grin. “Pleasure to meet you.” 

“Nice to meet you too. I’m Alfred, uh, son of Arthur, and student hailing from New York,” Alfred improvised awkwardly, giving it a slow, disoriented shake. “Wow. I can’t believe I’m talking to a Crusader knight right now.”

“So where did you last see your friend?” Gilbert asked.

Mathias carried you all the way to the other side of the museum, and you thrashed the whole time, begging him to let you go. When he finally put you down, he kept a firm grip on your hand. You were greeted by other Vikings, and just when you thought you’d be sacrificed like a goat, they broke out in wide smiles.

Besides them speaking in old Norse to you, which you had no way of comprehending, they were more than pleasant to you, even offering you some plastic food, which you politely declined. From the way they acted around you, it was like being with an old friend.

It became clear that they had no intention of harming you, but why they brought you here was still a mystery.

”I’m sorry, but I don’t understand what you guys are saying,” You interrupted meekly, darting your nervous eyes between them. They stared at you with blank faces before exchanging confused looks with each other. “Could you please let me go? I don’t want any trouble.”

“Where did you run off to? I haven’t seen you all week. I was worried something happened to you,” Mathias spun you to him, hugging you tightly before putting his hands all over you. “You’re speaking in tongues and acting very strange! We need to get you a doctor.”

”I didn’t understand that either.” You sighed.

”It’s worse than I thought. Somebody get Olaf,” The Dane ordered, summoning another Viking to come over. They took your arm and led you off, much to your dismay. “Look after her for me, friend. In the meantime, I have a man to hunt. He’s the one responsible for this.”

”Hey, wait! Where are you taking me?” You exclaimed, glancing back at Mathias as he left. In that precise moment, your best friend’s words replayed in your mind like a tape. You looked just like his wife, and so much that it had the actual guy fooled. “Oh no. Alfred!” 

It didn’t take a linguist to know that he was in trouble, but there was nothing you could do. Your companions kept you inside their make-shift hut, treating you as one of their own. They laid you down and spoke to you very slowly, so they must’ve thought you had a concussion. Either way, they weren’t letting you out of their sight.

You just hoped Alfred brushed up on his history, because he’d be needing it tonight.

”Where the hell could she be?” Alfred walked with his newest companion. “We checked everywhere!” 

”Actually, we still haven’t checked Northern Europe.” Gilbert corrected, getting the blonde to turn in the direction of said location. But he launched a hand out and grabbed him, pulling him back. “Don’t. It’s suicide.”

”Why?” He frowned.

”It’s occupied by Norse Pagans.” The albino warned, pulling him close for a tantalizing whisper. He glanced around before he continued, almost as if speaking of them would summon them like the devil himself.

”Norse Pagans? You mean Vikings?”

“They came here last week, and it’s been Hell ever since.” Gilbert took his collar as he whispered in a panicked hush. “We sent a missionary up there once, and he came back to us completely dismembered!”

“Oh, fuck.” Alfred dug his hands through his hair, now a nervous wreck as he envisioned the thought. But what made his stomach really churn was the unshakeable thought that it was probably where you were.

For that, he was surprised he hadn’t vomited already. And he almost did when Gilbert went off on a passionate spiel of the Scandinavian heathens and everything they’d done. That was when one appeared at the end of the hall, and it wasn’t just any Scandinavian heathen.

”I mean, he’s okay now, but it was really disturbing.” The other made a face of unease as he recalled the sight. It wasn’t something a person was meant to see in their lifetime, but at least he was in a more dubious position now. “I don’t think they care for God.”

“Dude.”

”What?”

”That’s the Viking I saw earlier today.” Alfred whispered, locking eyes with Mathias who stood no more than three hundred feet away from him. In the next three seconds, the Dane broke into a sprint, charging at him at a terrifying speed like a mad bull. He let out a wheeze, likely the sound of his soul escaping his body. “Aaaand he’s running at us. Well, this has been a good life.”

”God hasn’t forsaken us yet!” Gilbert unsheathed a gleaming longsword, swinging it in impressive circles.  

Mathias launched an axe at him, and it spun through the air so fast, it passed as nothing but a white flash.

It cut Gilbert’s head clean off, getting it to land on the ground with a thump. There was no blood or flesh, just a cross-section of wax where he was decapitated. While he had his face planted on the floor, he said this in a muffled voice. “So that’s what that feels like.” 

But Alfred had already fled by then.

He never stuck around to see his friend lose his dignity, much less his own. He whimpered a little as he pumped his legs as fast as he could. He was running on so much adrenaline, his bloodstream may as well have been battery acid. But not everybody could outrun a Viking, and he would’ve eaten it if it weren’t for the arm that shot out from the side, pulling him into a room.

When he turned to the stranger who’d saved him, he recognized him to be the native Algonquin warrior he’d seen earlier that day. Only this time, he was perfectly canny and had an unrivaled sharpness that would end up ensuring his survival. While Mathias ran by outside with his pelts and armor clinking away, Allen put a finger up to his mouth to get him to stay deathly still.

But above all else, quiet.

There they crouched, hidden from plain sight like the watchful forces of nature. In the most tense ten seconds of their lives, they stared at each other, cerulean and scarlet eyes as wide as they could get them. For a moment, Alfred forgot he was being chased, deeply enchanted by the person in front of him. He was quite literally gazing back into history, a thousand years into the past to be precise. But once the coast was clear, he went back to hyperventilating. He was still in shock from everything that just happened, and the first thing he let out was an excited, albeit exasperated gasp. 

“Oh my God. You just saved my life. Thank you!” 

”Don’t mention it.” Allen took his bow off so he could arm himself with it. Then, he peered outside the door, making sure there weren’t any Vikings in the area. Turning back to the blonde, he pulled an arrow from his quiver without breaking eye contact. “I’ve been tracking that guy for days, and this is the craziest I’ve ever seen him. You have any idea why he would be after you?”

“How should I know? I don’t know the guy personally!” Alfred exclaimed, following him out into the hall. 

“You must’ve done something to piss him off.”

”But I didn’t do anything!” 

“Then he wouldn’t waste his time chasing you when he’d rather search for his girlfriend.” Allen remarked. “One of my pals can speak his language, and he says he’s been looking for her ever since he got here.”

“Fuck, that’s it. Why didn’t I think of it before?”

They ran to the elevator, to which he pressed the button for the basement. It had always been on the tip of his tongue, but the whirlwind of a night left his head more scrambled than he thought. And now that he had it all pieced together, he came up with a plan to save you.

“I came here with my friend, and she looks exactly like his wife. He must’ve seen us together. But it’s okay, I have an idea. They must have extra wax figures in storage, right? If she’s as important as they say, they must have her tucked away down here somewhere.”

“Okay, so we do a trade-off.”

”Exactly.”

”Smart.” Allen pursed his lips, thoroughly impressed.

The doors slid open and thus, they began their search, sweeping the entire basement for the reason why the museum had turned into a war zone. After an hour or so, Alfred heard someone banging away and calling for help from inside a tall wooden crate. A woman, and she sounded just like you. He and Allen walked up to it, then cracked it open like a treasure chest. Lo and behold, it was your doppelgänger, but dressed in the height of fashion from what was a thousand years ago.

“I think we found our girl.” He murmured in awe.

The three of you got back to the elevator. It was a given that the you from the Viking age was a little hesitant to get into such a tight box, but Allen had a way with body language. He made a few gestures to let you know where he was taking you. What more was that these two men had just broken you out of an even tighter box, so you had no reason not to trust them. 

“You know, I meant to ask, but doesn’t it bother you that there is a living, breathing, homicidal axe-wielding maniac running around the museum every night?” Alfred asked, feeling strangely calm now that he sensed that the night’s excitement was coming to an end. 

“We’re not alive the way you’re alive,” Allen told him. That was right. As magical as it was to have the museum come to life, it wasn’t real. History had done its course. He spoke with power and humility as he confronted that fact, and for that, he seemed to be at peace. “We’ve had our shot. But you still have yours.”

“I have the craziest chills right now.”

”But also because we’re made of wax.”

“Okay, that makes more sense.” Alfred laughed a little, turning to him. ”So how come you speak English?”

”I’ve been on display here for years,” Allen grinned, walking out now that the elevator doors opened. They returned to the bustling halls of the Museum of Natural History, where history had really come to life that night. “New York is my home. Always has been.”

”Explains the accent.” 

It didn’t take long to track down Mathias again, and when he finally laid eyes on the one he’d been searching for, he turned into an entirely different person. His anger, terror, and everything that made him a legend, had all but melted into a deep emotional coherence.

He was nothing but a man now. A man with his own joys and sorrows like everybody else.

He dropped his ax and ran up to his long-lost love, picking her up and embracing her after what felt like an eternity. He finally found her again after a thousand years, and the scene was quite profound to behold.

But if you asked Alfred, it wasn’t as touching as his reunion with you. He found you in the hall of Northern Europe, holed up in a tent and rubbing your eyes. They were red from crying, and the way you looked at him was something he’d burn in his mind forever. And the way you hugged him, a feeling he’d never get tired of.

”I knew you’d come.” You squeezed him.

“Of course I came,” He squeezed you back, burying his face into the crooked of your neck. “But maybe it’s time that I switch out my glasses for some contact lenses. Don’t wanna keep losing them like I did tonight.”

“No way!” You gushed. “I like the way you look now.”

”Yeah?” He smiled rosily. From that outburst alone, he knew you’d forgiven him for everything that happened. But from the sound of things, you had a much easier time than he did. On the way home, he enthused you on the people he met and his close brushes with death. 

“You ever hear of a term called solipsism?” You asked. 

“Doesn’t ring a bell.” He shook his head.

“It’s the concept that everything around you doesn’t exist and is made up by your own mind,” You explained, stopping him in the middle of the street. It was dawn by then, and the rising sun cast a golden glow over your tender smile. “But if everything around me is just my imagination, you’re the best thing I’ve come up with.”

His eyes went wide, shocked by how sweet you just were. Just like that, everything he ever pined away for didn’t matter anymore. He was worth more to you than an adventure of a lifetime because he was that adventure. But at the same time, Alfred fell even harder for you, and it showed in the way his gaze softened. 

”Right back at you, sport.” 

[coffeebymofy]

IT'S DEFINITELY NOT A BIRD!

superman!kim jaehee x f!reader

A routine drive quickly turns into something much stranger when a mysterious object zooms past your truck, leaving you questioning reality during the days to come.

• genre, warnings: pg i think, project partners to lovers, fluff, a few crimes, an almost pretty bad fall, sort of canon for superman...ish?, highschool au, sort of a 00s au, mp3 player mention, smallville but not kansas

• word count: 3.3k

• author's note: tysm @sungbeam for hosting this collab! and ty @nevsky for reading getting me on the writing grind. mwah!

MONDAY—

THE TRUCK RUMBLES UNDER YOUR HANDS. You loosely grip the steering wheel, the straight, open road doesn't give you much reason to steer the old pile of junk. You hum to the newest song downloaded to your MP3 player, the bright blue neverending sky above the rows and rows of farmland cause you to squint slightly. Few and far between, skinny sapling trees shade your eyes momentarily, but you’re used to the sun. It’s been a few months since you officially got your driver's license and started driving yourself to school. Better than the school bus, at any rate.

ZOOM!

With a force that feels like it’s tipped your car, something whizzes past your driver’s side window.

You let out a scream right as the truck lands back on all four tires. “What the hell!?”

The object flies away faster than eyes can see, a sort of… brown, no, grey…? Whatever, it was a blur, and it freaked you the hell out. Do birds get that big out in the country? Hawks or maybe Eagles? Are there vultures nearby? As far as you can tell, it must’ve been some massive bird. You pull out the one earbud hanging limply from your ear, wanting to be sharp in case something else puts you in a literal tailspin. The rest of the car ride goes uneventfully, if slowly, almost risking a Monday morning detention for tardiness. You go about the rest of your morning, hauling the materials for the journalism club to your locker from your trusty ol’ truck and mostly forgetting about your avian scare.

•

The locker beside you slams shut, the force making your teeth shake.

“What’s up, loser?” A bright bleached blonde greets you, cartoonishly chewing on bubblegum in a steamed and pressed cheerleader’s uniform.

“Uh… Hi?”

“What do you have there, nerd shit?”

“Do I… know you…?”

“Ugh, whatever…” She sashays away, hair flipping behind her.

You pull a face; it hadn’t even hit 9 in the morning, and you already felt tired. You shake your head and head to your first class.

You walk into the class and sit at your usual middle-row spot by the window. An empty seat sat next to you since the start of the semester, around two weeks ago.

The teacher stands up as a boy you don't recognize walks into the room, his thick, heavy glasses peeking out from under his grey hoodie. “Young man, hood, please,” Mr. Lee says gruffly.

“Oh, sorry,” his says softly as he tips his head back and pulls his hood away from his face, still turned towards Mr. Lee.

“Go find a seat; there's one over there.”

You cross your fingers under the table, one hand propping up your face that you turn purposefully towards the window. You hear his book bag hit the floor and him sitting down beside you.

He clears his throat. “Hi.”

You turn your head towards his bookbag at first, which is made of old brown leather, looking up to meet his eyes you exclaim, “ Hi.”

He looks at you expectantly, and you scratch the back of your neck awkwardly as his gaze remains steady on you. You feel the slight tingle of familiarity; you’ve seen him before.

“It’s me… Daeyoung, you know? From summer camp?”

“Oh… Oh! My god! Yeah, you were at the nurse’s like all the time!” You remember the last night of camp when everyone was hanging out by the lake.

He was with some of the younger campers, jeans rolled above his knees. You had noticed it was the first time you had seen him without his glasses.

He chuckles, pushing his glasses up, his head down sheepishly, “I didn't know you went here. Did you just transfer recently or...?”

“Nope, been here the whole time! I guess we just never crossed paths?”

He considers it, nodding.

“What about you? Skipping this class the past two weeks or?” You echo his earlier question.

“I was, uh… sick! Pretty bad, fever and stuff,” he says stiffly.

“Oh man, that sucks, hope you can catch up with homework!”

“Thanks!”

Mr. Lee claps loudly at the front of the class announcing a group project, a collective groan passes through the class while he says to pair up with the person next to you.

“Hey pardner!” You turn to Daeyoung, tipping your imaginary cowboy hat.

He laughs, tipping his back at you.

Mr. Lee explains over the low rumble of the classroom that each group has to pick an animal and research every ancestor and evolutionary split that formed the animal as it's known now, and that points will be given for information, creativity, and presentation so there's no slacking off.

“So, do you have anything in mind?” He asks you, pulling out a notebook and a pen.

“How about a bird?”

He glances at you with an unreadable look in his eyes. Pushing up his glasses again, he replies, “Yeah, sure, a bird.”

WEDNESDAY—

A CROP DUSTER FLIES AT THE VERY CORNER OF YOUR VISION. You drive up the packed dirt driveway of the Kim household, materials for the group project tucked under the glovebox in front of your passenger seat. You see Daeyoung walk out onto the porch, waving with one arm.

You crank down your window with considerable effort just to ask, “Hey! Where do I park?”

He gestures widely, “Anywhere is fine!”

You give him a thumbs up and pull to park beside the farmhouse. You hop out, and before you can get to the other side to pull out the materials Daeyoung does for you, wow, he got there pretty fast.

“I called. Did you hear me ring?” you ask, feeling your pockets for your flip phone.

“The house phone? No, I think it's acting up again…” He sighs.

You walk inside the house together, you're greeted by a million florals in a million mediums, lace, fabric, stained glass, and real fresh bouquets litter the front room. You can see the dining room and kitchen through a set of glass panelled doors from where you're standing by the front door, the middle panels of twin lilies curved towards each other like a love heart. The whole house was old-fashioned and looked straight out of Anne of Green Gables.

“Wow.”

He chuckles, “Ma loves flowers!”

You nod, turning to him, “So… where do we sit?”

He walks further into the house, and you follow. He pushes open one of the glass doors and leads you to sit at the circular table in what you assume is a breakfast nook. The window box just outside the open window is full of herbs that blow a pleasant scent into the room, which is made up of the open kitchen separated from the breakfast nook and kitchen by an archway to one side and the bar style counter to the other, a door opposite the round table to somewhere unknown.

“Take a seat,” he gestures to the wraparound bench behind the table.

“What’s behind the door?”

“Oh, that's Ma’s sewing room. It used to be the laundry, but we renovated it.”

You nod, sitting down on the bench right by the wall. Daeyoung sits on a stool across from you and sets the plastic bag of materials on the table.

“We have around an hour until my parents come home, but you can stay longer if you don't mind working with them in the house.”

“Oh, yeah, I don't mind! It's cool that your parents are cool with this!”

“I'm pretty sure if you’re here past that hour, Ma will make you stay for dinner,” he jokes.

“I don't mind!” You reply lightheartedly.

When you start drafting your project, Daeyoung pulls out a few books on dinosaur evolution from the local library that seem relevant enough. The two of you get along well, not butting heads when presenting ideas and fairly distributing the workload. Time doesn't exactly fly, but it goes by, and before you know it, you can hear the sound of a car in the driveway. You’re startled when you hear the front door open, eyes darting to Daeyoung as he turns in his chair to glance at the living room.

“I didn't realize it'd been an hour,” he says, stretching his arms above his head.

“Yeah…” you reply meekly.

He turns back towards you. “Are you okay?”

“Sure, kind of nervous-” You're cut off by Daeyoung’s mother walking into the room. She’s a bit older than you expected, with more salt than pepper in her hair and a broad, open, welcoming face.

“Hello, dear, you must be Daeyoung's little friend! How are you?” Mrs Kim asks, arms outstretched in a hug as she approaches the table.

“Good!” you chirp, engulfed in a hug.

“Good! How are you getting along with our Daeyoung?” She said, releasing you from her hug and holding your hands in hers.

“Uh… Pretty well! He’s got really great handwriting.”

She chuckles, “Well, I’ll get the pot on the stove! You’re staying for dinner, of course!”

Daeyoung interjects, “Ma, she might be—”

“No, it’s okay! I can totally stay for dinner!”

He looks at you, embarrassed. “You really don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“I want to, I mean it.”

“Well, you heard her, she's staying for dinner,” Mr Kim calls out, walking into the room with two huge paper bags that are almost overflowing with groceries, “You kids better get back to work now.”

You nod, and everyone gets to their separate activities. The afternoon stretches languidly into the evening in the bustling house, the scent of pastry and savoury filling lifting your heads from your work like bloodhounds with their noses high and ears perked. Mrs Kim sets the pie down on the counter, and for a moment, you swear the steam comes up in swirls and squiggles, but as soon as you blink, it’s gone. It smells divine; the longer you work, the more you feel yourself almost floating over to the cherry pie, so stout and cozy. The meal is a feast of pie and a roast, warm and filling not just with the food but with the company and conversation. It passes in a blink of an eye, and suddenly youre at the end of the night with a container of leftovers to bring home standing in the doorway of the sewing room as Mrs Kim rifles through a box to give you a jacket she hadn’t used in years and felt was too pretty to go to waste.

“Dear, do you mind moving that box?”

You oblige, placing the box in the opposite corner of the room as she pulls out a beautiful cream peacoat with shiny dark wooden buttons, stitching in red embroidery thread.

GASP!

“It’s lovely!”

“Here, let’s get it on you!”

She eases the jacket over your shoulder, the sleeves stopping just past your elbow. You continue to thank her, and she assures you it is really no trouble. As you’re about to leave the room, the fabric in the sewing machine catches your eye, a deep blue winking and twinkling at you like the stars reflected on an ocean.

“That fabric is beautiful, Mrs Kim!”

“Isn’t it? Tough though, I’ve broken a whole hay bale of needles working on it!” She laughs, looking at it wistfully.

“Where did you get it?”

She glances at you for the briefest moment, “I really can’t recall, what a shame.”

You hum sympathetically, “I hope the project turns out all right!”

“Thank you, dear.”

THURSDAY—

“YOU LEFT THIS AT MY HOUSE.” Daeyoung hands you your worn pencil box, sliding it across the table towards you.

You had pushed your desks together as the class time had been allotted for your group project. The posterboard was laid out on the table, and where the glue was drying down it warped in little ridges.

“Thank you. I had a great time with your family, by the way!”

“They had a great time too, they told me to invite you over again sometime,” he pushes his glasses up, looking at the wilting corner of the image pasted on the board he says jokingly, “They love hosting, I don’t give them much oppurtunity to!”

“Tell your mom I said thanks again for hosting me. I’d love to come over again.”

“Sure, she seems to really like you!”

“I mean, she gave me this sweet jacket.” You hold your arms ajar to show off the buttons that gleam at the cuffs. “I love it!”

“You look nice— I mean, it looks great on you!”

“Shucks, thanks!”

“Yeah, I think she wore it in her 20s? I saw some old photos of her and Pa, I know they always wanted a daughter because Ma loves making dresses and passing down her old things and all.” he rambles.

“Your pops wanted a daughter, too?”

“Well, I think he wanted to see Ma happy mainly, and the old man thinks a daughter would be easier to spoil. I think it’s just that I was never going to let them spend more money on me, even if I was a girl!”

“Aww, it’s really sweet that you’re grateful for your parents!”

“Yeah, I mean, they didn’t have to raise me, you know,” he says absentmindedly, his finger on his chin.

You tilt your head.

I mean, sure, you supposed no parent did, but it was a bit of an odd statement, “I guess?”

“Oh, that must sound weird. I’m adopted.” He says frankly, “They found me, uh… abandoned in the barn and decided to keep me, so it was very much an unnecessary labor of love.”

You hadn’t expected the confession, and you weren’t sure how to react. “That’s neat?”

He laughs, “Yeah, I think so!”

“Oh! No— I just meant that, you know— it’s nice! It’s sweet that they did that!” You groan in embarrassment. “You know what I mean!”

He laughs even harder. “I do!”

You grasp his hand, and in earnest, you say while avoiding his eyes with your head down. “I think it’s heartwarming and so lovely that you love your folks. I really think that's cool and, uh, super!”

You can feel your cheeks grow warm; as you look up, you swear an aura of pink and white light surrounds him, his free hand gripping the edge of his glasses, his eyes wide with surprise behind them. His cheeks are crosshatched with red lines, the reflection of light in his glasses in the shape of love hearts, you swear you can hear a romantic, lilting piano tune playing from afar. You feel dizzy, not sure if any of this is real—

CRASH!

A bomb goes off behind you, or at least, what sounds like it. Before you can even turn your head, the glass panes crowd with curious teenagers; Daeyoung pulls you by the clutched hands, wriggling past them to see a smashed and fractured grand piano lying square in front of the classroom window. Someone cracks the window open, and you lurch forward, torso halfway out of the room, looking up to see two boys with spikey gelled hair looking back at you from the roof. One of them brandishes a camera, the flash on, pointed straight down. They laugh with their mouths wide open like the toy monkeys that have clattering teeth.

You gasp, squeezing Daeyoung’s hand. “Oh my god!”

You turn to face each other at the same time, you tell him. “Some boys pushed it off the roof!”

“Rascals!” Mr Lee yells from far behind the crowd.

He stomps out of the room and nearly takes the door down as he slams it.

Daeyoung begins to laugh, pulling you back in. You laugh along at the hilarity and insanity of the moment, you can hear Mr Lee yelling from the hallway and the heavy thudding footsteps of running as you do.

SUNDAY—

YOU WHISTLE AS YOU WALK ALONG YOUR GARDEN PATH. Your boots hit the soft dirt, and you swing a metal bucket of grain in one hand on your way to the chicken coop to give them their mid-day feed. The flock of hens gathers by the wire and clucks merrily as you approach, no doubt awaiting their meal.

“Hello, girls!”

You unlatch the door and step in, they swarm your feet in an attempt to curry favor. You giggle and begin to throw the mixed grains around the coop, watching them disperse as soon as the bits hit the ground. You keep going until nearly half the bucket is gone.

Satisfied with your work, you announce to the happy chickens, “Well, ladies! I bid you adieu!”

Your phone rings in the pocket at the center of your chest as you’re wearing your big, stained, farm work overalls. It buzzes as you fish for it, finally managing to pull it out and flip it open.

“Ahoy, who is it?” you say, pinching the phone between your ear and shoulder.

“Daeyoung!”

“Hi!” You practically sing, “What’s up?”

“Just wanted to check in,” he hesitates, “...on the project!”

“Oh, right.” Your face falls a bit. “Yeah, I have it all packed up in my car, so I won’t forget it tomorrow!”

“That’s good! Uh… well, uh… Ma... she, wanted me to ask about the container! Yeah, the container for the leftovers?”

“Oh! Yeah, I washed it, and it’s on my counter right now.” You pause, a lightbulb flashes on above you, “I could… send it over now, if that's okay?”

“Oh! Now?” he says, sounding shocked. “Yeah, oh my god, yeah, that’s totally fine!”

“Cool!”

“Cool!”

“I’ll, uh, I’ll hang up now!”

“Sure, yeah! See you soon!”

“See you!”

You fold your phone with a crisp ‘clack’ and sigh with relief as you hold it high above you. You squeal, jumping in circles, the grain in the bucket sloshing and spilling as you cheer.

“What is with all that hollerin’!” Your mother calls out from in the house.

“Won the lotto!” You say, racing past her and up to your room.

You dash back out of your room and into the bathroom, struggling to fix your hair and see your reflection in the mirror. You give yourself a once-over in your fresh outfit of Mrs Kim's gorgeous jacket, a pink gingham tank top, and a pair of white denim shorts and smile. Running out of the house with the container and phone in hand, you practically speed your way to the Kim house. The drive goes agonizingly slow despite how hard you were stamping on the gas pedal, your eyes slide off the scenery like water droplets on a greased surface.

A flash of smoke puffs up beside you as you drive on the bridge. What the hell is that? A Forest fire? Burning trash? You stop the car, and as excited as you are, you can’t help but worry about that, fire is no good in a farming town. You hop out of your truck, skipping over to the railing on the edge of the bridge. You crane your neck to see what’s going on, and when you still can’t make out what’s going on, you push further onto the fence. Once your feet are practically off the ground, you see the gel-haired punks burning something awful. They seem to spot you and yell, throwing something in your direction. You yelp in shock—

WHOOSH!

You’re falling! You scream like your lungs are about to give out, bracing for impact. Then suddenly, with a small thud but no more than a bruise, you feel the wind cut your face. You see the same shimmering blue fabric as from Mrs Kim’s sewing machine, a big logo staring you in the face. You look up and see… Daeyoung?

"Daeyoung!?"

He groans, "Hi..."

"You're flying!"

"Well, technically, we're flying..." he murmurs, avoiding your eyes.

"What is going on!"

He sets you down on the sidewalk next to your haphazardly parked truck, "You fell!"

"So you... Flew to save me!?" You say, aghast, "Is that a cape?"

He moves to touch his glasses, realizing mid way his face is bare. This is the second time you've seen him without his glasses, and he sure doesn't look like he needs them.

"Can I tell you when we get home?" He asks, wringing his hands.

You sigh, opening the passenger side door and clearing the seat, "Get in" you demand.

"Yes, ma'am."

• end note: happy april fools guys! this is my first fic on this acc eeeee!!! i hope you enjoy it!! vvvv nervy...

©coffeebymofy, do not repost, translate, or otherwise alter

[argonluvr]

To all Batman/Batfam/Gotham related story fanfic writers not very familiar with the state of New Jersey,

Hello! First of all, I'd like to start by saying that all of the advice I give is optional! I just know that I like writing with as much accuracy to the pre existing details as possible, so here I am providing some local knowledge for those who want it!

1. We aren't allowed to (as in, it's illegal) to pump our own gas. Gas stations in Nj are unique; we have workers who are in charge of filling up our cars with gas. Even motorcyclists aren't permitted to do so. If you have a gas station in your story and want a bit more detail, maybe work this in!

2. Gotham wouldn't have that stereotypical Jersey accent. The Jersey accent (similar to the New York accent) is native to the northern part of the state. Gotham is south of Atlantic City, and likely part of the water ice half of the state (as opposed to the italian ice half). Think more like Philly accents (wooder instead of water, tals instead of towels etc)

3. Ever hear of Wawa? Southern Jersey, Philly, and Delaware is in the lovely Wawa cult. You disrespect Wawa, you disrespect my entire childhood. I would absolutely die if someone included a Wawa in a fic. Used to have some of the best hoagies on the planet, swear on my mother. Not always a gas station either; sometimes they'll have street corner marts. It's awesome.

4. I know Gotham has its own sports team, I know! But... It could be pretty fun to make the Gotham Wildcats (the football team) and the Gotham Knights (the baseball team) as much of a cult as the Philadelphia Eagles/Phillies. If South Jersey fans are already ripping light poles out of the ground for a team that's not even in our state, imagine how batshit (ha) they'd get for their own teams! Also, I was in Philly for the superbowl win and let me tell you. It was magical. I only feared for my life like ten times!

5. Finally, the weather. We have this lovely thing called inclement weather. Summers average at a very humid 90-105°F (think wet blanket hot) and dry winters with wind chills as low as 0°. We graduate from tanks to hoodies at like 65° in the summer to fall transition, and from jackets to t-shirts at 40° in the winter to spring transition. We're well rounded like that.

I personally love when little bits of info like this is dropped in a fic. Once I finish this semester and have the time to write, you bet your ass I'll be writing beautifully crafted Jersey Gotham fics for all to read and enjoy.

Also, a good quarter of the people I know or see around Jersey rep Italian flag merch. No Italian slander is tolerated within this border, lest you wish to be curb stomped by a short, angry, greasy haired mechanic named Joey. A Joey gets all the bitches. We all love a Joey. A Joey sent my Mommom a get well soon card with two hundred dollars worth of Italian cheeses and a cheap bottle of wine. They're great people, Joeys. Man I miss Jersey.

Sincerely,

A South Jersey Native

[bqstqnbruin]

Just Friends - Part 11

Semester 1 is done for us and thank GOD the other chem teacher is off her shits and it's becoming my problem for some reason

Read the previous part here

Warnings: Keelan jump scare, swearing

WC: 3578

Enjoy!

_________

She didn’t need to feel this way. She shouldn’t feel this way. She had seen Jeremy go on a date with another girl. Yes, that girl was Fran and she wasn’t actually there to see them leave together, but Emeline knew he went on a date with another girl.

It was how he looked at Anne when she showed up in his doorway. 

Jeremy looked at Anne the way he had first looked at Emeline. 

It was how she wished he still looked at her.

Emeline took her work bag from the kitchen chair she always rested it on and brought it to her room, locking the door behind her before dropping the thing and flopping face first onto her bed. Jeremy didn’t want to date her. He didn’t want to be her rebound, no matter how many times she told him that he wouldn’t be. He didn’t want to be with her, so why shouldn’t he date other people?

Why didn’t he want to date her anymore? 

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, a notification from the dating app Fran downloaded on her phone for her showing up on her screen. She didn’t do anything on the app; it was just notifications that guys liked her. It’s not like she liked them.

Emeline scrolled through the profile that Fran and Maddy set up for her, a picture of the three of them that Johnny took one night with Emeline in the middle, the three of them smiling; a picture of her coaching her lacrosse team, standing on the sideline, yelling at the ref for something she thought was unfair against her team; a picture of her that she took for Keelan when she was chaperoning a trip in France with her students two years ago; one of her teaching that was taken when a photographer came to campus for their website; one of her with a puppy that the girls saw while they were on a run together that Emeline wished she could have taken home with her; and one of her and Jeremy at a bar, Emeline looking at the camera and Jeremy looking at her like she was the only girl in the world.

She zoomed in on the last photo, on Jeremy specifically. That’s how he looked at Anne, now.

If Jeremy could date, why couldn’t she? 

She had plenty of guys over the last week who had liked her on this stupid app; they couldn’t all be undateable, could they? 

After what felt like hours of hitting the x button, she finally went through all the guys who liked her and found that not a single one of them appealed to her. None of them were Jeremy. 

Emeline was ready to throw her phone across the room when Ethan tries to FaceTime her. She didn’t want to talk to him, but they were getting close in the last couple of weeks. How could she say no to talking to him? 

“Hey, kid, what’s up?” she asks, sitting up on her bed as Ethan looks like he’s on the T.

“What are you doing tomorrow night?”

“Nothing, why?”

“Can you come to my game?”

Emeline tries to think of what his schedule for the week was. “The game against BC?”

“NHL scouts are going to be there and Mom and Dad are going to Oliver’s show with Luke and I need someone from my family there so if I throw up everywhere at least I know one person won’t laugh at me.” 

“Yeah, because vomit is so funny?” Emeline jokes, hoping it could calm her brother down. 

“Em,” Ethan whines.

“Ethan, yes, I’ll be there,” Emeline reassures him. She hears Ethan let out a long sigh of relief. She had never seen him this nervous before. Granted, she hadn’t been seeing him at all other than for the last month, but still. “I’m wearing BC stuff.”

“Emeline,” Ethan yells. “You can’t wear BC to BU.” 

“You will not catch me in BU gear. Eagles are superior to Terriers.” 

“Emeline, my sister can’t wear BC gear to my game when I play for BU.”

Emeline laughs, her mind quickly wondering what her life would have been like if she grew up with Ethan instead of getting to know him now. “It’s not like anyone is going to know that you’re my brother.”

“We look like we could be twins.” 

“Except for the fact that you’re just barely 18 and I’m 25, yeah we could totally be twins.”  

“Please, wearing something Bruins related or something, instead?” Ethan begs, Emeline freezing. The only thing she had that had a Bruins logo on it was the jersey Jeremy bought for her, the one with his last name on it that she had buried in the depths of Fran’s closet.

“Fine, fine,” she relents. 

“I’ll send you two tickets, ok?”

“Sure. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

Ethan hangs up right as he gets off the T, Emeline left sitting on her bed alone. 

Who was she going to bring to this game?

Johnny was away on a road trip, and Jeremy was out of the question even if he was in the state. Fran was with her family for her mom’s birthday, and Maddy had an overnight shift again. Javier didn’t care enough about hockey to go to her brother’s game. 

She sits and scrolls through her contacts, trying to find anyone that she had talked to recently to bring to this game, seeing person after person she hadn’t talked to in over a decade. 

Emeline sighs, finally finding someone to bring. 

What are you doing tomorrow night?

___________________________

“When was the last time we were on this campus?”

Emeline thinks back. “Accidentally when we went to the Sox game last season. Intentionally probably back in college.” 

Keelan looks out over the ice, the twos out for warm ups already. “I can’t believe you have a brother,” he says, a frown on his face. 

“Three.” 

“You have three brothers?”

“Ethan, Oliver, and Luke.” 

“I can’t believe you never told me.” 

“I didn’t know how.” Emeline feels his gaze turn to her. “I didn’t want to know how. I thought at the time that my mom not only had a new family, but that she didn’t think about me. How do you tell someone that?” 

Keelan sighs, “You could have just said that.” 

“Why, so you could have broken up with me then instead last a couple months ago? So you could have started sleeping through whatever sorority you wanted earlier?” Keelan looks at her, confused and shocked. “What, you didn’t think all those times you bragged to your friends about how you were with me because you thought I was too unstable to break up with, even though you didn’t want to ‘deal with my baggage,’ that all the times you said those things wouldn’t get back to me?” 

The anthem starts before Keelan can say anything else. Ethan wins the faceoff, BU getting possession of the puck. Emeline laughed to herself; if someone had told her six months ago she would have understood any of the words that ran through her mind outside the context of lacrosse, she wouldn’t believe them. Jeremy came into her life and changed that for her. 

Keelan shifts uncomfortably in his seat, looking like he was trying to figure out what to say to her. “Why did you think proposing to me was the thing to do at my party? Especially after you dumped me.”

Keelan stares at the ice, his eyes not following the game. Emeline studied the man next to her. She knew, physically, why she spent so much time with him as his girlfriend. He looked like each one of her celebrity crushes when she was growing up. He had exactly the look she thought the guy she would end up with had; he had blonde hair that was slowly turning to a golden brown as he got older, the crooked smile with perfect teeth that made her swoon when he smiled at her for the first time, hazel eyes that shined in just the right light.

But she knew that physical wasn’t enough. 

“You weren’t just with me for seven years, Emeline. I was with you, too, that entire time. And I had to watch you fall in love with someone else easily while I know you had to convince yourself you were still more in love with me.” Keelan stares out at the ice while Emeline tries to understand her own feelings. Ethan has the puck, circling around the goaltender for BC and trying to get it to the net. The goalie saves it, the ref stopping the play. “I knew it was my last chance to show you that I loved you.”

“You proposed, believing I was in love with someone else?”

Ethan gets the puck again after his goalie makes a save against one of the BC defensemen. He streaks up the ice, trying to dodge the Eagles flicking him on the sides. The goalie is wide open, just him and Ethan facing off. 

“Yes.”

Ethan scores. 

Emeline jumps to her feet along with half of the crowd, cheering for her younger brother as his teammates on the ice crash into him. He breaks out of the pile on the ice, pointing to her as he skates to the bench. 

“Em?” Keelan asks once the noise dies down and the play starts again. “Why him?”

She could play dumb and pretend he’s asking about her brother, why was she here cheering for him at Boston University when she so proudly hated the school. “Because he knows me.”

“I know you.”

“Not the way he does,” she says, watching her brother interact with his teammates on the bench. “I don’t know if it’s because I didn’t tell you, or because you didn’t listen when I did. It might be both. But Jeremy?”

Emeline thinks back on the last few months. She thought she loved Keelan and that Keelan loved her. But meeting Jeremy made her realize she didn’t know what it was like to be cared for by someone who didn’t have to care for her. He was there for her when she needed him, and let her be there for him if he needed her. She knew the details about her, and loved her for them anyway. Keelan was what she thought her dream man was, Jeremy is who her reality should be. 

“Even if we aren’t telling each other everything, we pay attention. I think I know him better than I know myself. And he knows me better than anyone ever has.” 

“Better than Fran and Maddy?”

“Yeah.” 

Keelan takes in a deep breath, the period ending with BU up 1-0 as the players head off to the locker rooms. “He’s at least treating you right?”

Emeline looks over to him, the two of them trying to move out of the way of people heading up to the concourse. “Jeremy and I aren’t together.” 

“We broke up because of him, and you aren’t even dating him?” 

“He didn’t want to date me yet.”

Keelan scoffs. “What an idiot.” Emeline laughs. “Do you regret anything?”

That question catches her off guard. She had spent how many nights recently telling Fran and Maddy that she ‘wasted’ seven years with Keelan. What really good times had they had together? 

“I regret us not ending things when deep down, I think we both knew we should have. We both knew we weren’t each others forever.” 

“I just always hoped that feeling was wrong.” 

___________________________

Keelan didn’t end up staying the entire game, leaving Emeline alone about half way through the second period. She ended up getting a video of Ethan scoring another goal, his second of the night, his third point of the night, to put the Terriers up 3-2 against the Eagles, Emeline sending the video in the group chat with her roommates and the boys. 

BU ended up winning the game, Ethan getting the game-winning goal. 

Emeline stands outside the locker room where Ethan asked her to wait for him after the game. 

Ethan comes out, a man in a suit stopping him before he can reach Emeline. She watches them talking, trying to pretend to not be too creepy about it, scrolling on her phone to read the texts from her friends about Ethan’s goal. 

She honestly just wanted to hear the conversation between this guy who looked important and her brother, but she was just out of earshot. 

Ethan shakes the man's hand, the guy patting him on the back before turning and leaving, nodding at Emeline as he passed by her. 

“Who was that?” she asks, Ethan looking starstruck as the man walked away. 

“A scout from the Bruins.”

“The Boston Bruins?”

“No, the UCLA Bruins, Emeline.”

“Don’t be a little shit. What did he say?”

The two of them start walking down the hallway, Ethan heaving his bag on his shoulder. “He was telling me how he was impressed with my game tonight and that if I keep it up, he thinks I might have a chance to be invited to the combine.” 

“That’s a good thing,” she says, not really sure what he was talking about.

“The combine is where the top prospects that year get invited to work out and show off in front of all the teams scouts and managers before the draft. Do you know how many guys' draft stock have gone up because of the combine?”

“No.”

“Enough of them that I could get drafted in the first or second rounds.”

“Ethan,” Emeline exclaims, stopping her brother and pulling him in for a hug. “That’s awesome.” 

Ethan lets out a deep breath, running his hands through his hair. “I can’t believe this.” His phone starts going off, a call coming in. “Oh, it’s our mom.” Emeline feels a weird rush go through her at the sound of Ethan saying ‘our mom,’ to her as he answers the call and puts it on speaker. “Hi Mom, I’m here with Em.”

“Hi,” she says, cutting herself off before she says, ‘mom.’ Still too weird for her.

“Hi guys,” Celine yells, clearly driving as the sound of her turn signal clicked in the background. “We’re all here, we’re just leaving Oliver’s show.” The rest of the family says a chorus of hello’s. “How was the game?”

Ethan and Emeline start walking back toward his dorm as he talks a mile a minute about the game and the scout. They get back to his dorm, Ethan signing her into the building as they make their way up to his room. 

“Mom, I’m gonna go,” Ethan says, hearing the car stop in the background to signal that their family was pulling up in front of their house. 

“Ok, I’ll talk to you two later,” Celine’s voice sounds through the speaker. “Emeline, say hi to your friends for us.”

“Will do,” she says, sitting down on Ethan’s bed, looking around at his dorm. His side of the room was neat, kind of like how she kept her room when she first moved into the room she shared with Maddy and Fran, the only three freshmen on the lacrosse team in their building, the rest of them living in a dorm on the other side of campus. He had a picture of him and his family from his high school graduation on his dresser, another one of him from what looked like his senior night with his parents and brothers on either side of him. There was a Bruins poster on his wall, right next to a Yankees poster.

“There’s no way,” she says, pointing at the NYY insignia on his wall.

Ethan smirks, “It’s more fun this way.” Ethan laughs at Emeline’s scoff. “So, no Jeremy tonight?”

“He and Johnny are up in Canada.” 

Ethan shakes his head. “I know that. I mean, you haven’t talked about him.” 

“I also haven’t talked about a lot of people I know,” she deflects, the way she does when her students try to pry into her personal life.

“Who was that dude you brought to the game?” he asks, sitting back in his desk chair.

“Keelan.”

“Ken doll reject?”

“Excuse me?”

Ethan shrugs. “That’s what Mom calls him. But why did you bring your ex-boyfriend to the game?”

Emeline sighs. “He was the only one free.”

“I doubt that.” 

Emeline rolls her eyes, Ethan giving her that look she often gave her roommates when they weren’t telling her the whole truth. “The last time I saw him, he proposed to me, and the time before that, he broke up with me. It’s hard to end a seven year relationship like that.” 

“And you ended it because you’re with Jeremy now?”

“I thought you said I didn’t mention Jeremy.”

“Not to me, but I can read lips.” 

“Weren’t you supposed to be paying attention to your game?”

Ethan smirks. “I had just scored a goal, my attention could wander.”

“I hope you never meet Johnny. You two together would be awful.” 

“But you and Jeremy?”

Emeline shakes her head. “He’s dating someone else. And we barely talk anymore. Everything’s been weird between us lately whenever we’re alone.”

“So why don’t you date someone else? Are you on any of those apps?”

“Maddy and Fran made me a profile, but I don’t really use it.” 

Ethan gestures for her phone, Emeline rolling her eyes and reluctantly gives it to him, standing over him as he scrolls through her profile. He stops at the last photo, the one of her and Jeremy, and frowns. “Why would you put a photo of a guy who’s clearly in love with you on your profile.”

“Maddy and Fran made me the profile,” she repeats. 

“Yeah, no, I don’t know any guy who would like a profile with a girl who has a boyfriend.” 

“I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“This photo makes it look like you do.”

Emeline snatches her phone from her brother, sitting back down on his bed. “I don’t really want guys to like my profile. I don’t want to date someone else,” she admits.

“Then what do you do?”

Emeline shrugs. “I guess I wait.” 

___________________________

“You’re getting home late again,” Fran says when Emeline opens the door, Emeline dropping her bag on the floor with a grunt.

“Yeah, it’s almost eleven,” Trent points out, sitting next to Fran.

Emeline groans. “I was staying for lacrosse and then one of the teachers who was supposed to help with senior sleepover got sick so they asked me to stay since I was still there, anyway.”

“Saying, ‘no,’ is an option, you know,” Johnny says as Emeline sits down.

Emeline glares at him. “Not when you’re a teacher.” 

“Can you call out tomorrow?” Maddy asks. 

“Nope,” Emeline shakes her head. “We have an away game tomorrow and I can’t go with them if I’m not at school that day.” 

“Go to bed, babe,” Fran tells her, Emeline yawning and nodding as she heads back to her room. 

It was days like the one she had today where a long shower was the best feeling next to actually crawling into bed. She does her routine, trying to not take too long out of pure desire to get into bed as fast as she can. 

Emeline heads back to her room, hearing her roommates talk with the guys.

“We should definitely be worried about her, right?” Maddy’s voice carries through the hallway despite her trying to whisper.

“She normally stays later during her season, but not this late and not this often,” Fran says.

“Is she still not over Jeremy?” Johnny asks.

“She was into Jeremy?” Trent asks.

The other three groan. “How does that not earn a comeback? He’s not new anymore.”

“He’s not important right now,” Fran scolds Johnny. “Do we try to set her up with someone new? Someone to get her to forget about Jeremy?”

“Even with Jeremy dating Anne, he hasn’t forgotten about Emeline. He’s still just as in love with her now as he was the day he met her.” 

“It’s like they’re not even friends anymore,” Maddy says. “They can’t be around each other.”

Emeline rolled her eyes. She shouldn’t be surprised that her friends would be having this conversation. They were constantly worried about her since her grandmother died, right after they met her. She loved her friends, but she wasn’t this fragile person she felt they thought she was.

Fran sighs. “She either needs to get over him or get under him.”

Johnny laughs. “I said that to him when we all met.” 

Emeline closes her door quietly so they don’t know she had been listening the entire time. She finally gets in bed, her entire body relaxing as her body sinks into her mattress. 

Everyone was right, she needed to forget about Jeremy. He didn’t want to be with her anymore, and she didn’t really want to wait for him. She opens the dating app, desperately looking for someone she could find remotely attractive, Jeremy be damned.

One guy that had already liked her, Ben, finally catches her eye, matching with him. He didn’t look like Jeremy, he didn’t look like Keelan. He was completely different at first glance.

He messages her right away, Emeline struggling to keep her eyes open as she responded back to him.

If Jeremy could date, so could she. 

[luke-hughes43]

holiday lights and snowy nights | matt boldy x reader

this is going to be short bc it is very late and i'm so sorry, i got so distracted!

but anyway enjoy!

~

y/n spent her whole young adult life in arizona. all of the first 18 years of her life. but when the talks of college began, she found herself looking farther and farther away from home.

always wanting to teach, she found herself drawn to the secondary ed program at boston college. she managed to convince her parents to take the trip out to boston and immediately know that she belonged there.

so that's where she went.

and she absolutely loved it. she made great friends, had the perfect academic challenge, and loved the culture of campus and how bought in everyone was to being an eagle.

boston brought her everything she ever thought she needed in life, her best friends, her dream career, and the love of her life.

even though she swore that she wasn't looking for a boyfriend in college. she found one anyways. and he was perfect. blonde hair, blue eyes, tall, hard working, passionate, kind, funny, and so caring.

the minute y/n met matt boldy, she knew that she was in love.

they quickly developed a strong and loving relationship, and started dating before the end of their first semester. and now 5 years later, still going strong. y/n graduated from boston college with her degree in education and is working on a masters program at the university of minnesota, and living with matt.

they moved in together, almost immediately after graduation and never looked back. now in the cold of minnesota, y/n is witnessing her first white christmas. last year she had gone home to arizona for the holiday but this year, her and matt are staying in their home of St Paul.

after calling their families, exchanging gifts, and seeing some of matt's teammates who couldn't travel home for the holiday, matt suggested, "wanna go on a walk in the park downtown and look at the lights?"

"but it's cold out there. it's so warm here." y/n said with a pout.

matt giggled, "come on sweetheart. it's not that bad, and you have a coat and boots. please? i wanna show you something."

y/n reluctantly agreed and the young couple bundled up and start their journey towards the park in downtown St Paul. y/n stayed as close as she could to matt, trying to steal his warmth.

when they finally arrive at the park, y/n is in awe of all of the lights and holiday displays. she'd always been a sucker for christmas, it's her favorite holiday.

then it started snowing, which made the moment even more romantic for y/n, having never experienced a white christmas. low and behold, matt had ulterior motives for this walk. and y/n was clueless about it.

he had talked his buddy and teammate, brock faber, into helping him plan this moment and to take pictures and videos. and he fiddled with the ring in his pocket (that's been hidden for 6 months) while he waited for brock to text him that he was here and ready.

when he got the text he smiled. steered y/n into his favorite display knowing that she'd love it too. while she was distracted, he got down on one knee and said, "y/n, sweetheart."

she turned and saw him on one knee, hands flying to cover her face, "matt?"

he smiled at her, "y/n, i love you. so much. i thought i knew what love was and then i met you and realized i was wrong. when i say you all those years ago in the library at school, i knew you were the prettiest girl i had ever seen and i was so determined to get to know you. every day has been the biggest blessing in the world because somehow someway, you were apart of it. y/n i love you today, i loved you yesterday, i will love you tomorrow, and i hope to love for every tomorrow after that. will you marry me?"

warms tears started streaming down y'n's face out of love. she smiled and choked out, "yes. a million times yes."

matt smiled, stood up to kiss her and then carefully took her glove off and slipped the ring onto her finger. cheers surrounded them as they kissed again and brock and his girlfriend reveal themselves and are wicked happy for their friends.

let's just say, every time it snows at christmas after that, y/n smiles thinking about the most prefect christmas she's ever had.

[fadingdaggerr]

hello :] i had an idea / req for you!

melissa/reader where r is new around (new teachers aide, teacher, anything rly), they’re just new so melissa isn’t exactly head over heels yet. but then maybe smth happens to r where they’re in trouble or hurt and melissa ends up being to one to find and take care of them, and melissa realizes how quickly she’s growing attached OMFG THIS IS SO LONG AND SUCH A RAMBLE SORRY! run with it however you’d like xoxo -🧛🏻‍♀️

blush to ruby

pairing: melissa schemmenti x gn!reader

summary: request above! think i stuck pretty true to it, i went with r getting hurt rather than an altercation just bc my last fic was more that route

warnings: hurt/comfort (but literal hurt. like pain hurt), mentions of blood and a non-serious injury, r should’ve had a that’s so raven moment tbf, kinda short oops

note: title is light to darker shade of red to show deepening feelings, in case u were curious. i wanted to call this “unfortunate foreshadowing” but it’s a little on the nose

melissa hates lunch duty. everyone does really, she wasn’t alone. but what no one ever really talks about, recess duty. the worst part was the screaming, the occasional crying, and the constant whining when it was time to go back inside. somehow after running around at top speeds for twenty minutes straight, the children the even more hyperactive.

maybe it wasn’t so bad. ever since you started at abbott last semester, melissa found herself enjoying the extra time with you. she liked the little one-on-one conversations with you that this time allowed her. melissa thought it was rather sweet how you interacted with the little eagles. she’d watch as you ran down the line of swings, pushing each student as they giggled and yelled higher, higher! but this week was a blessing to the children, mr. johnson finally inflated the sad looking dodgeballs in the recess bins. four-square is a very, very serious matter.

“alright little eagles, huddle up,” melissa shouts with her hands cupped around her mouth.

“time for the rules,” you say, getting a collective groan in return, “don’t give me the uuugh stuff, half of you break them before the game even starts.” you hear melissa chuckle beside you, making you visibly struggle to hide a smile.

“no hitting the ball when it’s not you’re turn. only hit the ball with your hands, not your face. i’m looking at you, tyler,” you give him a playful glare, he sticks his tongue out in response. “hit the ball out of the bounds, you’re out. if it bounces more than once in your square, you’re out. catch the ball, you’re out.”

the kids create their teams and start playing, you and melissa are really only there to stop them from literally butting heads, and to grab the ball if it rolls out. four rounds in and everyone was laughing and having fun. melissa particularly enjoyed being gifted a dandelion flower crown that you helped one of her students make, gently laying it on top of her hair.

“last round, then we’re heading back in!” you call to them. when they change players, it’s all fourth graders, only one of which was from your class. melissa could recall that when yasir had been in her second grade class, he mentioned his sister played volleyball at the high school, and she taught him all about it. melissa turns to give you the heads up right as the game starts. the ball bounces into yasir’s square, to which he smacks with all his might. the sheer speed of the ball gave you no time to duck, smacking you straight in the face.

your hands fly over your nose, eyes already watering from pain. melissa can hear the muffled string of swears under your hands and immediately jumps into action, although shaking a bit with need to help you. she ushers the kids back inside the lunchroom to get them to their teachers. she runs to janine and asks her to watch her kids, and teacher lee to watch yours, while she takes you to the nurse.

“nurse alayna isn’t here today, but her office has the same key as the conference rooms. just leave her a note if you take anything other than tissues,” lee says as they wave your students over to their group.

melissa settles on guiding to the office with a hand on your lower back, quietly telling you she’ll help you and that you’re okay. she sees more tears form in your eyes when your pull your hands back, blood covering your palms. her hold on your waist tightens with reassurance, your tears making her protectiveness over you grow. when you get into the office, she holds tissues to your nose as you wash your shaking hands.

you cringe when you sit on the paper covering the bench, the sound of it making the pain in your head worse somehow. melissa noticed and watched as you stood up to rip away the paper violently, muttering asshole under your breath. even when you were in pain and crying, you were still you.

she replaced your hold on the tissues as she carefully wiped away rogue tears and blood with a tissue, apologizing when you winced. “okay hon, i’m gonna have to look at it for real now,” she speaks softly, as if you’re a scared animal.

you shake your head and ramble, “no, no, i can do it. you don’t have to look at it, it’s probably disgusting.”

she drops the tissue to hold your hand, “i’ve seen worse, i was married to a man,” this makes you chuckle, then wince from the laugh. “i want to help. i’ll be careful, i promise,” she holds her pinky out to you. she feels your smile under her hand more than she can really see it, but her heart rate quickens when your pinky wraps around hers as tight as possible.

“what’s the damage, dr. schemmenti?”

pulling back the tissues, melissa can see that your nose and the area around it was swelling a little. she used a featherlight touch to graze her finger up the bridge of your nose, checking to see if it had been broken. a hiss of pain from you has her hand retracting, apology hot on her tongue.

“sorry, sorry. i’m a wuss with pain and blood and all that,” your hands have a vice grip on your knees as you rush your words.

melissa’s thumb caresses your wrist, “don’t apologize, it hurts like a bitch. i just need to lightly pinch the bridge to feel if it’s broken, okay?” you grimace at the question but nod. “just squeeze my hand if it hurts, don’t worry about hurting me,” she reassured you, holding your hand, interlocking your fingers.

only about three second later, with an almost broken hand, melissa concludes your nose is not broken. she gently cleans off the blood from your skin, so gentle you can barely feel the touch except for the fabric of the towel. your hand stays in melissa’s, the looser grip allows her to feel the anxious vibrations still running through you.

she decides she has to make you feel better, “once we get you all patched up, how about we raid the lollipops? i know she’s got some around here, she saves me the bubble gum ones.”

you laugh a bit, careful not to disrupt the last of her work, “bubble gum? what’s wrong with you?”

“they’re horrible and i love them, okay? what do you even like? strawberry or something else boring?”

“root beer. obviously.”

“you don’t even like root beer, you’re a diet coke purist. you told me root beer tasted like minty iced coffee,” melissa says as she throws out the tissues and disposable towel, making a note of them and the future candies.

your free hand rises, “listen the lolly version is better than the soda. and there’s no diet coke lollipop, now is there?”

melissa relishes in your laugh for a moment, “you got me there.”

you’re able to run out to your car to grab a sweatshirt to replace your stained shirt, melissa standing guard as you changed in the backseat. she held back a cackle at seeing a delicately embroidered cursive, reading bon fromage, with a small stitched image of a wheel of cheese on a boat beneath it. you try to hold back your own laugh as you say, “don’t even start, it’s all i had in the car.”

“no, it’s cute. it’s ridiculous, but very cute,” she responds with a stifled laugh.

“if you’re done laughing, i’ll take that lollipop now,” your say, holding your hand out.

melissa drops your root beer lollipop in your palm, but you quickly switch them. her eyes never leave you as you unwrap the candy and place it in your mouth. her heart rate picks up and her skin warms, she blinks rapidly to erase the totally platonic thoughts she was having.

intent eyes watch as your tongue moves the candy to the side of your mouth to speak, “okay, maybe it’s not so bad. but root beer is still better.”

��i told ya,” she mumbles as she unwraps her own lollipop and tries it, “dammit. you were right.” you laugh and give yourself a little round of applause at her response.

you clear your throat, suddenly nervous, “thank you. you didn’t have to, even if you say it’s fine. just, thank you anyways. i really do appreciate it, melissa.”

she wraps an arm around your shoulders, leading you back into the building as she thinks about how to respond, “and i’d do it again in a heartbeat if i had to.”

the rest of the day has melissa has this nagging need to check on you, even with only two and a half hours left in the day. she had to wrangle with herself to not rush to ask how are you or peek through the window and see for herself. the deep-seated feeling to protect you only quadrupled in size after seeing you in pain, feeling you grip her hand for support. taking care of you had felt second nature to the redhead.

when the kids cleared out, she quickly grabbed her things and walked to your classroom. she lingered in the doorway as she watched you pack away your planner and a couple folders for grading away into your bag. she knocked lightly on the doorframe to announce herself before she was caught staring, only to be met with soft eyes and a smile, a hand motioning her closer. as if she’d ever stray far from you again.

on the nose. get it :D i’m sorry.

feedback appreciated, love y’all big time

[spoilmesweetieforficssake]

Melissa/reader

Ava is reader’s best friend and accidentally slips that reader likes Melissa because she thinks reader already confessed

A little short, but hopefully sweet! And hopefully what you hoped it might be!

~*~

“You gonna treat my girl right?”

Melissa turns at the non sequitur, finding Ava standing staring at her, hands on hips.  “What?”

“Y/N, your date?” says Ava like she should know exactly what she’s talking about.

Unfortunately, her words only serve to confuse the red head further.  “What?”

The Principal rolls her eyes.  “She said you two were going to dinner on Friday?”

“Yeah,” replies, Melissa, slowly, a frown still painting her features.  “We are.  We’re trying the new Korean barbeque joint.  I’ve been wanting to try it for weeks but Barb was keen, so…”

“Oh,” says Ava, eyebrows raised.  “So she didn’t ask you? Didn't say anything?”

“No…”

The taller woman nods, now quite sure she’s just put her foot rather firmly in it.  “Well, you’re just gonna forget I said anything!” she says quickly, trying to step around the red head and make a break for it. 

“Like hell I am!” hisses Melissa, catching the taller woman by the arm.  “What do you mean my 'date’?”

With a dramatic eye roll, Ava sighs.  “I already started diggin’, may as well get out the excavator.  You didn’t hear it from me but that itty bitty little lesbian is in love with you.  Got a picture of you both as the background on her phone and everything.”

Melissa frowns.  “What's that supposed to mean? I got a picture of me and Barb on mine.”

“And I ain’t judging either of you for that,” says Ava, ignoring the face the red head pulls.  “All I’m sayin’…” she trails off with a sigh.  “I can’t believe I’m sayin’ this, but just…be gentle with her, okay?  She got it bad for you Schemmenti.”

This time Ava does manage to make her escape, leaving a speechless Melissa in her wake.

*

You’re too busy letting your eyes roam around the restaurant, taking in the sights and smells to realise that Melissa has finished giving the server your order and is now staring at you across the table.

“Something you wanna tell me?” she asks finally, bringing you eyes back to her.

“I don’t think so,” you reply, frowning.  You had spoken to her before you had left school only a couple of hours before.  Nothing exciting had happened since. 

“You mean I got all dressed up and this isn’t even a date?” she asks with a smirk.

Shit.  You wish you were better at hiding your reaction but you know you’re sitting like a rabbit in the headlights.  You’re not sure if Melissa is joking or serious.  Over the last semester, you’ve gotten to be able to read her quite well, but you’re not sure whether it’s the shock or your anxiety that has you spinning.  How does she know?

You know you’ve been in love with her for months now, but she doesn’t know what.  You’ve been very pleased with how well you’ve hidden it.  Or at least, you thought you had.  Then it hits you.  Melissa might not know, but there’s one person who does: Ava.  “I’m gonna kill her,” you hiss, making a grab for your phone where it sits on the table. 

Melissa grabs your hand before you can reach for it.  “Did you really want this to be date?” 

You feel your cheeks heat up in embarrassment, your words caught in your throat.  You’re terrified to answer.  To scare her away.  To lose her entirely. 

She releases your hand, tapping your phone screen, making it light up.  It’s a picture of the two of you, taken weeks before at sports bar where Melissa had been once again trying to explain the rules of football to you in between shouting at the game.  She was sporting a winning smile thanks to the Eagles and you…well you were smiling at Melissa. 

“Don’t look too bad together, do we?”

You look up at her words.  There is no teasing in her tone, and her smile, when you see it, is soft, encouraging.  You draw in a shuddering breath.  You maybe haven’t ruined things after all.  “What if I really did want this to be a date?” you ask, watching as her smile only grows. 

“I didn’t get all dressed up for nothing, kid.”

[theofficersacademy]

Just as a horn announced the start of the historic Battle of the Eagle and Lion, so does a horn call for its end. Fighting across the field draws to its close, with those remaining helping each other limp off to rejoin the rest of their classmates and colleagues.

The hope of victory still burns in all the remaining competitors on the field, but as the hours wear on, a decision must at last be made.

A few red and yellow pendants still flutter in the wind…

But they dull in comparison to the vibrant azure banners that fly proudly against the stormy sky.

“The Battle of the Eagle and Lion has officially concluded!

         And the winner is…

                                      The Blue Lions!”

This concludes the Battle of the Eagle and Lion! You may view the winning bracket here. A thank you to everyone who participated for making this successful; we hope you enjoyed it as much as we did!

Please continue reading for final results and information about prizes.

Honorable Round 3 mentions to the following:

First KO (on dash): Tiki Most Damage Dealt: Gerome (10 dmg) Longest Battle: Shez (M), Tiki, & Griss vs Ferdinand, Leif, & Hilda (7 rounds) Sitting Duck Award: Tiki (Never got to attack)

A joyous feast caps off an exciting day of battle and glory. Red, blue, and yellow swirl together as Eagles, Lions, and Deer leave class divisions on the battlefield and mingle freely amongst each other. As the night goes on, scrap fabric from the torn House banners are sewn into patchwork ribbons, rosettes, and crowns.

You may have noticed us announcing certain characters as having dealt the most damage or missed the most attacks. After seeing each other’s performances on the battlefield, the students have taken notice of certain players and have judged them accordingly:

Worst Case of Senioritis: Griss, who missed the most attacks (7)

Most Likely to Get Away with Murder: Griss, who dodged the most attacks (7)

Most Likely to Sleep During Class: Griss and Severa, who received the most damage (13.5 dmg)

Most Likely to Return from the Dead: Gerome, who recovered the most damage (4 dmg)

Biggest Overachiever: Gerome, who dealt the most damage (23 dmg)

Bearer of the Squeaky Hammer: Shez (M) and Marianne, who barely hit opponents the most (2)

Best Sharpshooter: Edelgard, who landed the most critical hits (4)

Most Dependable: Nanna, who assisted teammates the most (5)

Future Pre-Med: L'Arachel, who recovered the most HP for allies (4 HP)

Most Elusive: Randal, who received the least damage across all three rounds (1.5 dmg)

Most Likely to Repeat the Semester: Nanna, who dealt the least damage of the round 3 finalists (4.5 dmg)

Most Likely to Forget Their Weapon Before a Fight: Griss, who rolled the most Nat1s (4)

Most Likely to Bring Five Extra Weapons to the Battlefield: Nanna, Hilda, and Edelgard, who rolled the most Nat20s (2)

Most Likely to Walk Away With an Everlasting Bromance: no combatants stayed together for the whole battle

Most Likely to Stumble Across Treasure: Randal and Tiki (round 3 finalists) and Matthias (overall), who had the highest average roll (15 and 21, respectively)

Most Likely to Break a Mirror: Griss (round 3 finalists), and Celica (overall), who had the lowest average roll (7 and 1, respectively)

No Man Left Behind: Gerome and Nanna, who never lost a teammate

Most Likely to Get Stuck in a Long Line: Dimitri, who had the most ties (14)

Most Likely to Trip Over Their Own Feet: Finn (round 3 finalists), and Linus (overall), who had the lowest average speed rolls (<1)

Most Likely to Win a Marathon: Griss (round 3 finalists), and Shez (F) (overall), who had the highest average speed rolls (6 and 8)

Most Likely to Spin Themselves Dizzy: Ferdinand, who rotated their team the most (6)

Loves a Plate of Venison: Ayra, who reigned supreme over the Golden Deer (fought only GD opponents and won all three rounds)

You can view the full statistics here.

— BOEL Prizes

There are two prizes for this mini-event. Please read the instructions below carefully! You do not have to message the Masterlist to claim your event rewards.

All event participants are awarded a free skill point. You may put this skill point wherever you choose. Please do remember to message the Masterlist for any skill rank rewards if applicable.

All winning participants (students and faculty/staff supporters of the Blue Lions) are awarded the “Goddess’ Favor”. This may be added to your inventory. Similar to the Black Eagles Pendant and Golden Deer Bracelet, it does not have any mechanical effects or grant stat boosts. It is simply a bragging right and representation of your hard-won victory. Wear it with pride.

As always, let us know if you have any questions, and thank you again everyone for your participation and support!

- The House Leaders

[hockybish]

It's a Boy + Jack finding out

l West Winds au l dad!trevor au l masterlist l

June 2020

tilly bean: it's a boy! you should have seen in z. it was so funny. you know how he were being a little elusive at the last appointment? well he was no longer shy and decided to go full spread eagle, showing everything. maybe we have a little goalie on our hands.

"Bean messaged you." Jack used the fork to push around the remaining food left on his plate. he suddenly lost his appetite.

Trevor snatched his phone off the table, a goofy grin spread on his face reading what she had sent. A little boy, his little guy. But a goalie? Not if he had anything to say about it.

"You didn't look, did you?" a thought ran across the dad to be's mind. The fork scrapping against the porcelain plate gave him his answer. "Jack, I I can explain."

"Explain what? How you fucked Bean and she's having your kid? What were you thinking dude." Jack rolled his eyes at the irresponsibility that his friend showed on his end. "yeah, that's what I thought. You weren't. This could ruin your future and her's. You're nineteen." Jack continued to lecture Trevor.

"Stop, you wouldn't understand." Trevor had already gotten part of this talk from Cole and Alex the night she had told him. They had been a lot nicer about it then than jack was being now. "it was a mistake on both our ends and we're taking responsibility for that." Trevor explained what the young parents had talked about so far.

"Kay. But what's the plan when you go to California and she's still in Boston?" Jack posed the one thing they hadn't talked about yet.

"Bean's taking at least next semester off. I'm gonna to try and convince her to transfer out west. It'll be a bit of a drive if I'm in San Diego, but I'll get called up to Anaheim at some point in time and I can be closer." he hadn't figured it all out yet, but he was going to make this work. He was willing to anything to ensure his family was near.

"I still think you guys are making a mistake with this. but-"

"I don't need or want your opinion Jack."

"will you let me finish?" Jack scowled at Trevor. "I was going to say if you guys need anything let me know. Don't fuck this up. And eventually when Q and I get that lake house we've been eyeing up you guys and the little dude are always welcome."

"Thank you. That means a lot." Trevor laughed. He was happy Jack was on board, even though everything would have been the same if he wasn't.

"I have one more question though. Can I be a godfather?" Jack smiled along with his friend.

"Sorry, out of everything that has been already decided." He declined the devil's player. It was true, god parents were discussed almost immediately. Jack raised his brows. "Cole and Quinn."

"That's nice. Wait a minute, Quinn knew before I did?!"

"Oops"

[maze-of-my-design]

persona fun facts :o? can be from any game!

totally not copy-pasted from dms FUN FACTS BRIGADE (also i cut it in half with a readmore bc its. a lot)

Ann is the tallest girl among the Phantom Thieves, santing at 5'5! (In my head she is taller than Ren but shh)

If you take the thieves to darts, the worst player in the gang is surprisingly not Morgana, but Sumire! Don't ask me how she's worse than a cat!

In P5 (including royal), Ann is the only romance option to directly say "I love you" to the protagonist without cutting herself off* (and, i'm half sure, she's one of the few direct kisses a protagonist receives in a persona game) and honestly? good for them ily ann im so gay for her *Sumire says it too, even before being romanced, but it's not a complete "i love you", per se. She stutters through her confession and Ren has to finish it for her because she's so flustered, which is pretty cute i'll be real but in terms of Saying it, it technically doesn't count.

Sho Minazuki (yknow, the guy from the arena games) was originally meant to be the protagonist for P5! This is massively implied in ending dialogue for the Arena games, as well as how similar the two look if you, like, dye his hair black. Also if you recall the original Femc for P5 with the neon red hair…

Sumire lives with her dad, that much is obvious, but the Royal artbook reveals she also lives with her grandma and her mother!

Among all the non-party-member confidants in P5 (including royal), only 5 find out Ren's identity as a Phantom Thief through something else other than a mementos request. These are Maruki, Yoshida, Sojiro, Mishima, and Sae

The Featherman series is a Power Rangers style anime that airs in the inner universe of the series. Contrary to what the Dancing games make us believe, There's always only 5 Feather soldiers that are part of the main crew: Pink Argus, Red Hawk, Black Condor, Yellow Owl, and Blue Swan. These names, however, are sometimes interchanged between "generations" of the show.

Actually lemme go on a tangent (you asked for fun facts you're GETTING fun facts) There are three generations of the Featherman show to date: OG Featherman (persona 2), Featherman R (Persona 3), and Featherman V (P4 and the Arena games). There's actually a change in the naming semantics every new generation of Featherman. For example, take this excerp from the wiki: "Red Eagle (from Featherman), Feather Hawk (from Featherman R and/or Neo Featherman), Feather Red (from Featherman V)" So in P2, the naming convention is "[Color] [Bird name]", in P3 it's "Feather [bird name]" and in P4 it's "Feather [color]"

Ok tangent over don't ask me how i know so much about a fictional series from a fictional game JSVGEFVR more fun facts

Sumire actually has the biggest amount of portrait sprite variations, since it includes her Kasumi and her Sumire sprites. She deserves it tbh, fashion icon

Another Sumire fact! Did you know Maruki "transformed" sumi into her sister on her birthday? I sure did! Fuck you Maruki!! Uninvited from MY birthday party for sure

Sumire, piror to the third semester, is only ever called by her last name, Yoshizawa, by everyone aside from Ren, Morgana and Futaba. This is a very a subtle way to show something's up with her and i gasped when i first found out about it.

Ok fine enough P5 facts have a P3 fact. It's kinda well known im pretty sure but Makoto Yuki's barrage of official names include, also, Sakuya Shiomi from the stageplay. Sakuya means "blossom" or "bloom". Hey do you recall that he dies in March 5th? yknow, when spring starts? Cherry trees. you get it

Back to P5, Tactica reveals that Haru used to indulge in chopping firewood when she was younger. Her dad didn't like that for her, but he never tried to stop her. This probably leads to her having an Axe as part of her Phantom Thief artillery.

Did you know Fuuka and Futaba actually become friends in the Dancing games? They sadly don't remain friends after losing their memories post-game but Fuuka knew her as Alibaba, and Futaba knew her as Lucia :) I hope they became friends online again

In the jazz jin in Royal, Futaba reveals that the retro console you use to play games was hers, and that she'd sold it to the shop in Yongen. Also apparently the busted laptop you buy there was Haru's! (fact also revealed in the Jazz Jin)

[indigovigilance]

Do you have any fics in progress at the moment? If so, what about? If not, what is your favorite AU for the ineffable husbands?

Hi @greenchrysanthemum20! I actually have TWO fics in progress!

My looooong fic that has been running since October 4, 2023, called Give Me Death in a Big Cup, being beta'd by the ineffable @taraiha. This one is definitely my baby. On the surface, it's a human AU coffeeshop meet-cute between astronomer Crowley and single father Ezra of university-bound Muriel. But then, Crowley and Ezra begin to have strange dreams about two angels that ask questions. 150,000 words are published and I expect the finished work to come in at 300,000. Hard deadline of August because that's when I go back to school and none of you will ever see me again (or more likely I will feverishly publish short fic during semester breaks to cleanse my mind of academia).

My medium-length fic that I've been working on as well is Angel in the Eagle, beta'd by @tangerine-ginger. This is an omegaverse AU set in Los Angeles in which omega rights campaign manager Aziraphale and alpha grassroots organizer Crowley meet in a bar, hook up, and fall for each other all before realizing that they are on opposite sides of a major political conflict. They must navigate maintaining their romantic relationship while working against each other on matters where they hold deeply differing viewpoints. 20k published, expected 40k upon completion.

For whatever reason both of these begin as long distance relationships. Don't ask me why. I don't know.

I don't know that I have a favorite AU? I've seen adorable coffeeshop AU, tender omegaverse AU, transcendent priest AU, and fanstastic fairytale AU. Non-AU crack a special place in my heart, as well. Idiot angel/demon using their powers badly or trying and failing to do things the human way will always make me giggle. I've seen/written trans theming across different AUs, which I also love.

If you're asking for a specific rec, I adored Temporary Tattoo. I endeavor to write such cute, clever fic that's rated G.

I think what makes a really good for me is: what's the message? I saw something today that reminded me of @ineffabildaddy's most recent priest AU, basically how many Good Omens priest AUs end up denouncing organized religion and affirming a radical "love is good and God approves of our love" viewpoint and that is very healing.

Thanks for the ask!

[yankstrash]

NATTY BOUND !!

liked by gabeperreault44, _willsmith2 and others

amelia.ln: WE'RE GOING TO THE SHIP!!!! in other words, we love minny too much and are not ready to leave yet #nattybound #ilovegabe 🦅🦅

view 201 comments

gabeperreault44: this is fun let's keep going

↪️ amelia.ln: yes please.

gabeperreault44: so happy you are here with me ❤️ you are the best

↪️ amelia.ln: always 😘 i love you

grumpy.boldy: class? no. frozen four and national championship? yes.

↪️ amelia.ln: end of semester? never heard of her.

_willsmith2: did gabe find you in the fourth pic

↪️ amelia.ln: he sure did

ryan.leno_4: appreciate this but you stole my roommate

↪️ amelia.ln: womp womp

↪️ grumpy.boldy: @ ryan.leno_4 and you're mad about that????

↪️ ryan.leno_4: @ grumpy.boldy i miss gabe

↪️ grumpy.boldy: @ ryan.leno_4 ur sleeping on the streets tonight.

rutgermcgroarty: enjoy it guys, so good seeing you ❤️

↪️ amelia.ln: rutger 🥺🥺

↪️ eliana.brielle: RUT 🫶🏻🫶🏻

↪️ grumpy.boldy: we love you

jacob_fowler24: GO EAGLES

drewf2: one. more.

emmafohrr: i love being an honorary bc student 🥳🥳

↪️ amelia.ln: TRANSFERTRANSFERTRANSFERTRANSFER!!!!

↪️ schulzyy_: do not encourage that.

↪️ amelia.ln: 😏🤭

aram_minnetian: sweeeeeeet