#she also let us go to our version of the cafeteria during class if we bought her something too

[blood-red-ocean]

Currently missing my high school Italian teacher who would throw the whiteboard marker playfully at us to answer a question and one day put a hole in the wall by absolutely thundercunting it at this one guy who would always use Google Translate and whose existence she was convinced was only to piss her off

[hansolmates]

jjk; angel’s trumpet [05]

summary; one second, your life is flashing before your eyes and the next, you’re transported into a world exactly like your own. but the jungkook you meet in this world isn’t a renowned singer or your former almost-lover, in fact he has no clue who you are and why you know him so well. as you work to find your way home lost and confused, you conclude that you’re either dead or in the middle of the most wicked drug trip of your life. pairing; idol!jk x reader (f), alternatively film producer!jk x reader genre/warnings; fluff, angst, supernatural, idol!au, non-idol!au, alternate universes, themes of fate, language, alcohol consumption, mentions of smut in future chapters w.c; 4.7k a/n; can u believe this fic is already over halfway done??? i feel more loved and supported for angel’s trumpet w each chapter! i hope u enjoy a more fluffier chapter and some insight on the separate relationships. thank u for the support!

[04] [05] [06] -> masterpost

Bliss. It’s been so long since you’ve experienced this feeling. 

These past few weeks have been nothing short of wonderful, like the sweetest version of reality. Working as a language teacher at BigHit was wonderful because of the staff and the fact that in the long run, your job would be helping the rookies get to know their fans better all over the world. But your job was also incredibly strenuous, and you felt an immense amount of pressure from the higher ups to teach the rookies as much as you could in between their other lessons and training. You remember the early days you’d be crying in the bathroom, scared of their exam scores because you knew it wasn’t possible to learn a language in less than a year, but the higher ups wanted you to achieve the impossible. 

But now, teaching is like a breath of fresh air. You found it appropriate to reabsorb your classes, and you’re still getting used to the sudden heavy workload. Namjoon was over the moon when you returned to your regular office in the biology department, treating you to coffee and catching you up on what you missed. Chan almost cried when he saw you Monday morning sitting in your lecture hall, saying his grade will finally be salvaged. 

However, the cherry on top has to be your budding romance with Jungkook. 

Maybe it’s the fact that you’re still swimming in the honeymoon phase, but everything just felt right. Of course, you can only hope your W2 self was already going to interact with Jungkook in one way or another, just like you had in your world. As of late you don’t feel like you're tearing this universe apart, worrying that you’re interfering in an alternate universe. 

A buzzing interrupts your thoughts, and you pat around your mattress for your cellphone. You don’t hesitate to answer. 

“Good morning, baby,” Jungkook’s rumbly morning voice flits through your speakers. 

You swoon, shuffling and kicking under your covers. A little part of you is disgusted how easy it is to turn to butter in Jungkook’s grasp, but it’s unsurprising. “Hey handsome,” you reply, trying to hide your giddiness. 

“How do you know I look handsome? My breath smells like leftover mac n’cheese and there’s dried drool on my chin.” 

“Mm, still handsome.”

“Ugh, you’re so gross,” but you can hear him smiling on the other line. “Do you have any plans for today?” 

“Dunno.” 

“Well there’s this new bubble tea cafe I know you’d like so maybe during my lunch we can--”

The rest of the words fade away as you notice an incessant banging on your front door. Whoever wants to come in is far too eager for this early. 

It’s then your calendar notification pings, and you see the big fat message atop your phone: 

Hobi Date 🍷🍷🍷

“Oh shit—” you smack your forehead, you completely forgot today’s the day you would find Sehlyung’s wine lady. “I’ll call you later Kook, okay?” 

You end your call, throwing your phone on the bed as you dash out to answer. Taehyung is yelling from the kitchenette, “I’m trying to eat some damn salad here!” By the time you slide out in your socks and down the hall, Hoseok is already inside your humble abode, holding coffee and donuts. 

“I brought libations,” Hoseok says with a bit of flair, setting them down next to Taehyung’s breakfast. 

“Thanks man,” and Taehyung makes grabby hands towards Hoseok’s coffee, and Hoseok looks horrified before snatching it away. “C’mon man, no coffee no entry!” 

“Taehyung, this is Hoseok,” you introduce, opening the box of donuts and offering Taehyung one in truce. You look pointedly towards Hoseok, sipping idly on his coffee, “Hobi, why don’t you wait in my room before we go, okay?” 

Hoseok tilts his head, eyes darting between Taehyung and you. It’s almost comical, the way Taehyung’s early-morning brain is having a hard time processing what was going on, and you wanting to keep a lid on the situation. “Sure, mom,” he slurps obnoxiously on his americano, waltzing down the hallway and into your room. He slams the door rather sharply, and that’s when Taehyung pounces. 

“Who’s the hippie?” 

“Hippie?” you balk, “Hoseok’s not a hippie.”

Taehyung shrugs, shoving a powdered donut in his mouth and completely forgetting about the limp lettuce on his plate. So much for a balanced breakfast. “I know all your friends, but I’ve never met this one.” 

“He’s new,” you take your pick of donuts as well, picking up a vanilla glazed one with rainbow sprinkles, “we’re gonna go shopping.” 

“Oo, can I come?” 

“No,” you say a little too quickly, causing Taehyung’s eyes to widen in confusion. You quickly backtrack, even going as far as to grab a napkin and dab the powdered sugar from Taehyung’s cheeks, “it’s old people shopping. We’re sending ginseng wine to our families. No brand names there.” 

Taehyung immediately buys it, scrunching his nose. “Not my favorite,” he says to himself. “Well, have fun doing old people things. Maybe Jimin will be willing to do something cool with me.” 

And with that, he abandons the limp lettuce with a flick of his wrist, letting them out your windowsill and into your little garden for compost. You two make your separate ways, you into your room and Taehyung into the bathroom.

When you open your door, you already see Hoseok making himself comfortable on your bed, flipping through your notebook. 

“You really shouldn’t be leaving this out on your desk,” Hoseok waves the yellow pages around, trying to look serious, “Taehyung could read this and you might end up in the cuckoo house.” 

With a roll of your eyes, you search for a sweater, “As if he wouldn’t join me.” 

You pull out a large black hoodie, courtesy of Jungkook. Trying not to look like a smitten high schooler, you subtly smell the collar before slipping it over your body. You melt in the fabric, and you almost hug yourself. Since your time at BigHit, you’ve missed wearing Jungkook’s things, and that’s a constant you can’t ignore. 

“If you end up in the cuckoo house, I’ll end up there too by affiliation,” he flops on your bed, waiting for you to get ready, “so, we gonna nab an old lady today for some wine?” 

“Ohmygod. What is wrong with you? You can’t say it like that, someone could report you!” you laugh, slapping him with a long sleeve. 

“So it’s more appropriate to say, ‘let’s go find the lady’s coked up wine that could’ve potentially sent you to an alternate universe’ right?” 

“Exactly,” you grin, pulling him up with an outstretched hand, “now let’s get going before we both end up in the cuckoo house.” 

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

Jungkook thought bliss ended once he got a good filming gig and a stable job, but no, it just had to get better. 

He doesn’t want to say he’s all consumed by your presence, but he can’t get enough of you. Sometimes he has to reel it in when you go out on dates, but he feels so lucky to call you his and hold you in his arms whenever he wants. 

You dropped into his life, quite literally. One day you just showed up and barged into his life. At first it scared him, immensely. But as he got to know you, wear you down and realize that the strong, blunt woman he met on the street is just as kind and sweet and soft–

The bottom line is, Jungkook wears his heart on his sleeve and loves loudly. He feels so much for you he can’t contain it. 

Except when Jimin wants to embarrass the hell out of you when they’re going over old pictures during work. 

“Can I tell you a story about how y/n almost peed in that fountain?” Jimin points to the small thumbnail Jungkook took earlier last week. You’re perched on a large limestone fountain, smiling at the little fish tickling the sides of the bowl. 

Taehyung gwaffs, choking on his sandwich. “God, that night was incredible! I got the Snapchat receipts too, Kook. If you want to second guess your standards.” 

A loud laugh bubbles from his throat, and Jungkook eagerly leans over Taehyung’s shoulder to get a better look at the screen. 

He likes your friends, too. To the point that he can safely consider them his friends. Of course he was intimidated the first time, especially when you were so pretty in your red skirt and surrounded by your equally attractive friends, but turns out Taehyung and Jimin are equally dopey and cringey as he. 

As silly as you look crouched over the water and pulling up your skirt, he melts at how carefree you look enjoying yourself on a free night. Jimin is hauling you off the ledge, grabbing you by the waist as you fruitlessly try to kick him away. 

“Careful,” Jimin tuts, sipping at his latte. “She’s gonna kill you if she finds out you showed it to Kook.” 

Taehyung scoffs, stuffing his phone away. “She looked like she was gonna kill me today when she brought that friend over. They were acting really weird,” Taehyung points his kimchi in Jungkook’s nose, “do you know Hoseok?” 

Jungkook blinks, opting to take a bite off Taehyung’s fork, “Kinda,” he shrugs, letting the tang of the kimchi spread across his tongue, “she has office hours when he’s working at the library daycare. They have lunch together.” 

Jimin leans in, hands fold over the white cafeteria table like he’s in the mafia, “What do you mean by weird, Tae?” 

“Like, she wanted him to wait in his room and they kinda just snuck out, y’know?” Taehyung divulges, “Like I love y/n, she the home girl, but who’s secretive about buying ginseng?” 

Jungkook’s chewing slows. He trusts you, however, he doesn’t know what to make of that little tidbit. But instead he swallows his kimchi, not caring that he didn’t chew enough or that it went down uncomfortably, and steels himself. “Probably just stressed about her thesis or something, I’m sure everything’s fine.” he says smoothly, trying to convince himself that he’s right, and he’s pretty sure he is. 

“Awh, Jungkookie’s so mature since he’s started dating!” Jimin paws all over the younger one like they’re long lost siblings. His hands travel to pinch his cheeks and ruffle his hair simultaneously, cooing like Jungkook’s a little bunny who’s merely existing. 

There’s a blush staining Jungkook’s cheeks, but he doesn’t mind Jimin’s bouts of attention. A small smile blooms to Jungkook’s face, and confirms to himself that he’s in a good spot in his life. 

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

“So, what are you and Jungkook like?” 

You shrug, “We’re good. It’s only been a few weeks though.” 

“No, I meant your Jungkook.” 

By definition, your Jungkook isn’t necessarily yours. However, the term is the byproduct of your current setting, and an unfortunate reminder that the Jungkook you’re dating now can never be definitively yours. 

(Or…? Can it?) 

“We were,” since when did you refer to you in and him in a past tense, “kind of a slow-burn, actually. We’d pass each other in the hall and exchange conversation during lunch in groups but, he kind of just crept up on me.” 

The train is going at a break-neck speed, the fancy rail floating across the track as it beams you closer and closer to your destination. Gone are the concrete jungles and carefully architected trees. You’re finally starting to see some natural foliage and blue seas. Today’s journey is a bit of a shot in the dark, you don’t even know what the person you’re searching for looks like, but it’s the only clear lead you have. 

“So you didn’t always know you loved him?” Hoseok asks, fiddling with the wire of his buds. 

You shrug, “I had a feeling. He’s an easy guy to fall in love with,” you don’t want to mention that nearly half the world is smitten by the Golden Boy, but from the bittersweet expression on your face Hoseok has an inkling. “There’s just a lot of factors that come with relationships. Factors that aren’t worth it. It’s easy here.” 

“It would be easy,” Hoseok replies to the air, closing his eyes. 

And he’s right. It would be easy to continue on with life, forgetting about the possibility that one day you could wake up in W1. It would be easy to forget about your other life, Beomgyu’s forgotten quiz that’s still probably lit up in your MacBook back home, Sehlyung’s wish for you to approve Jin’s new outfit. 

You wonder how your life back home is going, whether they’re moving on just like you seem to be. 

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

You really have no idea what Sehlyung’s wine dealer looks like. Work friends are work friends, where you’re close enough to share sexy secrets to each other but not as close as to divulge family life. 

You know that Sehlyung lives in a small town closer to the shore, as she’s mentioned one too many times that her feet are baby smooth from the constant sand exfoliation. You’re vaguely aware that this is the right area, at least you hope because W2 Sehlyung could be living in Guam for all you know.

Passing by the village square, you search idly for an old lady selling ginseng wine. You didn’t realize how much a shot in the dark this could possibly be. 

“Hey,” Hoseok whisper-hisses, and you try not to ignore the spit that brushes your ear, “you said to look for an old lady, right? All these ladies. They’re old.” 

He’s right.  

The village may be small, but there were over fifty booths with plenty of old ladies selling something. It would take hours, you didn’t even know if this lady would still be selling ginseng in this life. 

Your hands fall limp at your thighs, and you point to a small house at the end of the square. It’s cute, almost cottage-like, looking more high-end than the other shops on the street. “Maybe we should eat something before we do some searching. Otherwise someone’s gonna have to scrape us off the street.” 

“Good idea.” 

Surprisingly, the interior of the establishment is nothing like the front. There’s a very authentic quirkiness to it, down to the colorful blown glass vases and the eclectic amount of alcohol lining the bar. 

Not feeling like waiting for a table, the two of you wait by the bar, hopping on the two available stools in the corner. 

The two of you don’t waste any time, telling the waiter passing by that both of you would like a heaping bowl of glass noodles. 

“Care for a glass of something sweet?” 

Looking up from their dessert menu, you see an older lady leaning over you to pour you and Hoseok a cup of tea. She’s the definition of a chill grandma, from the easy way she smiles to the colorful hoop earrings she wears. You watch as she carefully pours you a cup for you, and you get a glimpse of the beautifully painted ceramic teapot, adorned with watercolor flowers. 

“If you have some angel wine,” you lick your lips, looking straight at her, “that would be lovely.”

There’s no hesitation in her work, and the lady continues to pour Hoseok’s cup with impeccable grace. She doesn’t bat a lash at your slight jab, even goes so far as to send you a crinkly smile. 

“Fresh out, m’fraid,” she replies easily, “sold my last batch to a lovely blonde over a month ago.” 

You swallow your surprise, the bile coming up your throat returning slow and achingly hard. Hoseok’s eyes dart between you and the old lady, and you clench your hands under the table. “Thought so,” you smile tersely, “then, do you have any recommendations?” 

Hoseok noisily slurps tea, as if he’s watching a melodrama. The old lady nods eagerly, placing her ceramic mug on a nearby potholder. “I’ll whip up something extra special.” 

It isn’t until the old lady whisks away from the bar and into the bathroom does Hoseok blurt, “Is the special thing drugs? Is she giving us drugs?” 

“Who knows,” you thank the waiter who sets down two metal bowls of glass noodles in front of you, “maybe the next drink will send us to the moon.” 

“Don’t even joke about that,” Hoseok grimaces, “my fuckin’ dream is to visit the moon.” 

As you two eat in silence, the restaurant slowly dwindles down as the lunch rush leaves and the start of dinner commences. Being a weekday, there aren't many coming down to eat out. You let yourself be immersed in the hubbub of the cottage, the clinking of clean tea cups and the laughter of staff sitting in the corner table. 

The lady finally returns when you’re nearly done with your meal. There’s a tall frozen glass in her hand, ice particles clinging to the barrier. There’s an umbrella and a pineapple adorning the rim, looking uncharacteristically bright and tropical. She places it next to Hoseok’s tea.

He narrows his eyes, “This doesn’t have LSD or anything, right?” 

She laughs, the hearty sound enveloping the restaurant. “Nope. Just passionfruit and mango.” 

Hoseok easily takes her word for it, sipping happily as it washes down his dinner. 

“For me?” you pop in. 

“Ah, some advice.” 

You shrink in your seat, “I want a fruit smoothie too.” 

But you relent when she opens her palms to you, gesturing for you to give her yours. They feel calloused and worn, as if she’s spent lifetimes dedicating her life to her craft. She rubs her thumbs against your palm, sending soothing circles to your skin.

“Enjoy your time as it lasts,” she says, quiet enough for only you two to hear, “things will fall into place very soon.” 

She senses you tense, and continues to hold you. You can’t tell whether this advice is foreboding or comforting.  

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

“I know what you're thinking,” Hoseok says when you return to Seoul, walking in the direction of your apartment. 

“And what exactly am I thinking, o’ wise one?” you kick a stray pepple your way, getting in a groove as you walk lazily down the sidewalk. 

“Her words,” he mumbles, “I don’t think it’s an invitation for you to get too comfortable here. Eventually… you’re gonna have to go back.” 

“I know, Hoseok.” You don’t mean to sound so agitated. After all, the mission was mostly successful. You got your answers, albeit vague ones. The old lady in the cottage simultaneously sparked and eased your soul, unfortunately it didn’t give you any definitive direction as to go on with this life, other than to simply “enjoy it.” 

“I know we’ve been debating whether you’re hallucinating or whether you’re in a coma and you’re having a really long dream or some weird mix of the two—” Hoseok jogs up to stop in-front of you, stuffing his hands in his orange cargos. He’s standing directly behind a 7-Eleven, the gaudy green and red lights lighting behind him like a halo.“And trust me, I’ve spent hours in bed thinking whether I’m real or not and potentially reaching an existential midlife crisis,” he grabs your hand and presses it to your chest, his other hand flailing wildly to the sky, “but this is real. All of it, I’m convinced it’s real. I’ve lived a long, slow, twenty-something life so far.” 

He pulls you into his arms, and you suppress a shudder as his warm embrace envelopes you. Is this some sort of punishment? For the first time in a long time, you’ve felt content. Not to say that your life in your world wasn’t normal but you could honestly admit that the time you’ve spent here is nothing short of amazing. There’s an ease to this life, something so simple and easy to love that you want to keep it in your heart and cherish it forever. 

“But ‘m gonna miss you,” you sigh into his chest, “we aren’t very close back in my world, y’know. So I’m glad I got to spend the time that I could with you.” 

“S’okay,” he mumbles into your hair, and you can feel the smile in your skin, “if we’re really meant to be friends, it’ll happen again.” 

Hoseok leaves you with these words, allowing you to breathe easy as you make the steps back to your apartment. Your feet are heavy from the day’s trek, but your mind feels lighter as you near your floor. 

You spot a young man in a long jacket hanging a bag on your doorknob, taking great care that the contents inside wouldn’t spill. 

“Jungkook?” you ask, smile widening when his gaze perks up to meet yours. It’s almost comical how he reacts to your voice, perking up like a little rabbit at the sound. 

His smile grows the closer you get to him, “Hey, pretty girl,” he murmurs, closing the space between you to press a chaste kiss on your cheek, “great timing. I got you something.”

Your eyes dart to the cup of bubble tea hanging on your doorknob. The cup is adorable, pink-tinted and rounded at the bottom with little cat ears for the lid. 

“Oh, you went! How was it?” 

“It was great! We should go once you’re free. Taehyung ordered three cups! Nearly puked all over Jimin’s couch.” 

“So,” your fingers trail up the buttons of his shirt, and you look up through your lashes, “you’re implying that my roommate isn’t inside our apartment right now.” 

He leans in, nose nudging your neck as his voice rumbles against your sensitive skin, “That’s exactly what I’m saying.” 

You’ve never punched in your key faster, clutching the bubble tea bag to place it along the counter as the two of you clamber in. Instead of making it to your bedroom or living room, Jungkook traps your body between the doorway, cradling your face in both his hands to press a sweet kiss on your lips. 

There’s nowhere to put your hands because both of Jungkook’s are up, so you close your eyes and let yourself savor the slow taste of his lips moving against yours. Finally you decide to settle your hands on his belt buckle, absentmindedly thumbing the loops as you get lost in the feeling. 

“Mm, Kook? Koo—” he presses quick pecks to your lips, barely giving you a chance to forge complete sentences, “can we move this somewhere more comfortable? ‘M legs are turning to jelly.” 

“Glad to have that effect on you,” he replies airily, thumbs pressing into your soft skin, “but I actually have to go, so no time to get comfy.” You whine against his lips, and he chuckles. “I have a cohort meeting at 8AM. We’re gonna organize our portfolios together.”

“Nerd,” you pout, pressing a kiss to his chin.

“And me and Mingyu are meeting online for some Overwatch in like, two hours.” 

“Gamer nerd,”

“Your nerd,” he beams, his thumb reaching out to swipe the sheen from your swollen lips, “lemme plan date night to make it up to you. Minghao will be out of town for the weekend so it’ll just be me at the apartment.” 

Date night. It all sounds so domestic to you, planning out designated days to spend time together. It isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but the fact that Jungkook sounds so settled with you is nothing short of heartening. 

“I’ll make dinner,” his fingers twine between yours, “and we’re keeping the dress code super casual. I want to see you in nothing but sweatpants and oversized t-shirts.”

“But sweatpants aren’t sexy!” 

“They are on you,” he retorts with a wiggle of his brows, “and sweatpants are easy access.” 

“Alright, as long as you don’t upstage me.”

“Never,” he grins, pearly whites on display, “now, I really gotta go.” 

He unlatches your body from his, only to have you immediately jump on him like a koala. You feel his large hands caressing your hair, taking the time to run his fingers through the tangles. You could fall asleep standing in the middle of your doorway, melting under his touch. 

“Good night, baby.” he says, pressing his lips to your forehead. 

“Sweet dreams, nerd.” you reply reluctantly, letting him open the door so he can go. 

“Dream of me!” is the last thing he says before he forces you to shut the door, leaving you thoroughly needy and wanting for him. 

Tonight, you dream long. 

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

Seven months ago, W1

You’re crying. There’s big, fat, ugly tears falling in rivulets along your face. You don’t even bother to wipe away the tears, just let them flow freely and dampen your pants as you watch the group take their final bow. 

From your seat, you take in the energy of the concert like it’s your last breath. The purple confetti dusting your hair, the slow remix blasting through the speakers. The sea of stars swimming across the stadium, all for them. 

You wait until everybody’s long gone before you get up from your seat. Until the only people that surround you are staff and clean-up crew, forcing you to leave. Your face still feels achy and your cheeks puffy. Sehlyung is urgently texting you (quadruple texting!) to hurry your ass up and get to the green room so you can all leave together. 

A hand on your shoulder stops you from replying, and you wave them off. “Yeah, yeah. I’m leaving already, sorry.” 

“Rude, I just got here.” 

Jungkook is glowing. He hoists his whole body to plop himself in the seat next to you, so heavy you fear he may break the plastic in two. His arms splay across the other seats, urging you to lean in closer. 

“Jungkook,” you smile, resting your hand on his thigh. “The show was great, I really felt the energy from all the way back here.” 

“I can see that,” he tugs at his long sleeves, reaching to brush a stray tear, “you okay?” 

“What, yeah.” you scoff, crossing your arms. 

“So you weren’t moved by my impeccable talent?” 

“Obviously,”

“Because, there’s nothing to be ashamed of if you were crying,” he goes on playfully, using his hands to narrate his spiel as he talks out to the stage, “I mean I get it, knowing how much I slaved over that solo and finally getting to perform it, and how I got sick the night before is a pretty–oh shit.” 

You’re blubbering again, feverish now that everyone’s gone and it’s only you two in the stadium. The lights have already started to go out, the only light illuminating are the red exit signs and the last pair of doors leading to the main lobby. Your cries are echoing across the large room, and you feel nothing short of embarrassed but you can’t stop crying.

“Awh, my little crybaby,” he cooes, dripping with affection as he moves the armrest to pull you onto his lap. You dive your face in his neck, wracking with sobs. 

“I’m, I’m just so proud of you,” you seep out, nuzzling your nose between his freshly cleaned face, “and you—you make it so damn hard for me to not love you it’s just, it’s not fair!” 

“You don’t make it any easier on me either,” he whispers, soft enough to crumble under his grasp and melt under his skin. 

The confessions are so soft, so easy to say. Little did the both of you know how much it would strain for you to place this love on the backburner. 

[mrsacklesevansmgk]

Cursed - Chapter Three: Lana

Word Count: 3179

If anyone wants to be tagged, let me know :)

Catch up here

“The moon was so beautiful, that the ocean held up a mirror” – Ani DiFranco

“Hey Teeg’s, I’ve gotta go back to my locker…grabbed the wrong book,” I said, holding up my Classics book to show her, “You go on ahead and nab our seats.” I turned and walked back towards my locker, only realising once I got there, that I was supposed to be showing Adam around school and that included walking him to his next class, and in that moment, I felt bad. I dumped my English and Classics books in my locker, grabbing the right book this time and made my way towards Ms Kirkpatrick’s class. I walked into class still in a daze, found my seat next to Tegan and looked up into a familiar face. Adam was sitting there staring at me. I must have looked like a deer in headlights, as a smile quickly appeared on Adam’s face, which morphed into a chuckle when I didn’t smile back.

“Are you stalking me Adam?” I asked, while staring down at my books.

He chucked again and replied with a cheeky tone of voice, “No Lana, I’m not. But thanks for showing me around the school! I would have gotten lost otherwise.” The smile widened.

I tried my best to ignore him and his smile. But my teenage girl brain had other ideas when I felt my heart flutter a bit in response to his smile. “I uhhh…” I began. “You ‘uhhh’ what?” he replied. “Oh, you know, it’s Monday; it takes a while for the brain to kick in,” I said, nodding with commitment, hoping that the joke I had cracked at my own expense would be enough to break the tension I was feeling.

I pulled open my History textbook, again seeking solace in my schoolwork, I realised it was a crutch I used quite often in life; not that there was anything wrong with that. I pulled out my notes from last week’s class and started going over the key points from the lessons. I had this OCD way of taking notes. I would literally write anything and everything, then go back over the notes during study period or in the evening and make 10 key points, and colour code them based on whatever logic I had worked out for that class and then at the beginning of the next class I would go back over those 10 key points to refresh my memory.

As I read over my notes, my mind easily wandered away from recapping the French Revolution and towards the person sitting next to me. Without even noticing, I was no longer reading my notes, I was looking at Adam; not just out of the corner of my eye, but full on, body turned, looking at Adam. What the hell had gotten into me? Luckily, he didn’t look up. I couldn’t imagine how I’d be able to explain getting caught staring at him for the second time this morning. I did, however, manage to peel my eyes away from him and back to my notes, only to feel his eyes burning into me mere seconds later. There was something about his eyes. It felt like they were hiding a small little world behind them, and I was both intrigued and eager to find out more.

For the first time in months, History seemed interesting; not because of the topic, but because of Adam. We didn’t talk much, just random polite conversation, but there was something about him, something that I couldn’t quite pinpoint. Adam seemed genuinely interested in anything I had to say. Being the younger and much less-prettier sister of the amazing ‘goddess-like’ Eleanor, I was practically ignored by the majority of the student population, not that I minded. But with Adam, it was almost like ‘Eleanor who?’

Once again, the hour flew by, and the bell rang signaling the end of the second period. I stood and smiled a goodbye to Adam and joined Tegan as we made our way back to our lockers. The boys were already there, waiting, impatiently, might I add. I managed to open my locker and dump my books before Justin grabbed me by the elbow, pulling me into a nearly deserted classroom. What the hell? I thought, and I was just about to ask him when I saw the look on his face. Justin liked to pretend that he was easy going, that nothing bothered him and that he didn’t take life too seriously. But I knew him better than that. Something was really bothering him, and I was sure I was about to find out.

“Everyone is talking about you! Don’t you know?!” he said as his eyes blazed into me. He looked really frustrated, and like a storm was brewing inside.

I stood there dumbfounded. What was he talking about? Everyone was talking about Eleanor and her college celeb boyfriend, not about me, her unpopular, boring sister.

He stared at me with questioning eyes and waited for my response. I couldn’t even comprehend what he was saying, let alone have the ability to form an answer to his question. He took my silence as a ‘no’.

“They’re all talking about you and that new kid.” I continued to stare blankly at my one of best friends. He had never cornered me in such a way before, was he jealous or is it something more? I wondered.

“Who is talking about what?” I asked, still looking confused. “Yeah, the new kid, he’s in my class…I talked to him. Mr Lord asked me to show him around school, make him feel welcome…What’s the big deal?”

“Uhhhh,” Justin said. He looked frustrated that I just wasn’t getting what he was trying to say. “Just that he is the hottest guy this school has ever seen and that YOU seem to have caught his attention, despite Lydia, Marie and their clique throwing themselves at him every chance they got!”

I cracked a smile. This was one of the weirdest conversations that I had ever had with Justin…and that’s saying a lot because we talked about some weird things! “Pfft, what are you talking about? I sat next to him in a few classes, Mr Lord volunteered me to show him around. I barely know him. I don’t know him. People need to mind their business.”

Justin wasn’t really interested in hearing what I had to say. It was like he was on autopilot, filling me in on everything he’d heard about the new kid and myself over the past two hours. I had never, and I mean NEVER, been the topic of any gossip before at this school. Not with Eleanor around! I knew she wouldn’t be happy about this. Not only had she been relegated to “old news” in less than an hour, but she’d also been bumped from being the hottest topic by none other than her ugly duckling younger sister. Knowing her as well as I did, there was going to be hell to pay at home this evening...she would be unbearable! But also, I know that she isn’t going to stand for it. Her name would be back on everyone’s lips by tomorrow morning, she’d make sure of that!

As Justin continued rattling off an embellished version of events, my brain began processing what he was saying. It was a bit over the top, but that’s how rumours work. They start off innocently enough and then as they pass from one person to the next, the story morphs into something completely different, and the next thing you know, the rumour is so far removed from the truth. Justin was still rattling on, but I knew he’d have to stop and take a breath sooner or later, and that moment was coming.

“Justin! Stop!!” I rushed out! “You’re making such a big deal out of this. I never thought you’d be one to feed into the rumours and gossip around here; let alone, rumours about me. You should know me better than that!!” I said, “Nothing happened between Adam and me. We talked. We sat next to each other. Nothing more, nothing less. Now stop this nonsense and let’s go! I want to grab some morning tea!!”

I walked away, done with the conversation. Just as I was about to grab the door handle, I heard Justin say “Okay, okay! You’re right, I’m sorry I got carried away! It’s just that everyone was talking about it, and I felt like I was the last to know! I felt like I’d been left out of my best friend’s life...even if for only a few hours. But now I can see how things were blown wayyyyy out of proportion!!”

I turned around and gave him my biggest smile, “I’d NEVER leave you out of my life like that! The second anything noteworthy happens in my life, you’re the first person I tell!” He walked over to me, and I gave him a bit of a side hug, which was awkward considering how tall he was. “Now, let’s go!!” and I dragged him out of the classroom and back towards our group of friends. We had about ten minutes left before our next class, so I made a beeline for the cafeteria. There wasn’t much of a line, but the few minutes I spent waiting to be served resulted in at least a half a dozen random looks, followed by hushed whispers behind hands. Soon enough the whispers were no longer hushed, but loud enough for me to hear; things like “Ugh, why her? She’s so bland and boring!” or “Look at what she’s wearing. She’s such a freak!” It didn’t faze me though, I expected nothing less from the sheep at this school.

I was almost at the front of the queue, but I hadn’t decided what I wanted. I turned to Justin, who was also eyeing up the menu. We decided to split a fruit bowl. Justin offered to make the order while I waited outside, away from the staring, whispers and comments. As I waited outside of the cafeteria, the comments got louder and meaner; the sheep of the school weren’t hiding the fact that they had a problem that I seemed to have Adam’s attention. I looked over towards the field, I felt like I needed to be in an open space, less suffocating place. As I contemplated my next move, I looked up and seen Adam sitting at a nearby table. Obviously, he too could hear the comments and that was the tipping point. I needed to get out of here.

I dashed towards the field. “Wait, Lana!” I heard from behind me. But I ignored whoever it was and pushed past a large group. Luckily for me, most people were heading back to class. I rounded the corner by the gym, but I hadn’t been watching where I was going and ran straight into the last person, I wanted to see…Adam. Weird, I thought, how did he get ahead of me? I looked up, fumbled out an apology and attempted to dash around him but I wasn’t fast enough. He gently took my elbow and pulled me back to face him. His touch was similar to the way he had helped me earlier in class and much gentler than Justin had mere minutes earlier. I sighed heavily, mostly out of frustration more than anything. I didn’t want to be there; I didn’t want to be at school; I most definitely did not want to be standing here talking to Adam, because I knew this would just fuel more gossip. I could literally feel the eyes drilling into me. What I did want was to be back in the meadow, listening to the stream and the birds and staring up at the sky through the trees. I wanted to be in my safe place.

It was at that moment that Justin caught up with me, stopping just to the left of my shoulder and staring wide-eyed at Adam and then at Adam’s hand on my elbow. “Lana there you are!” Justin said, “What happened?” He continued to stare, and neither Adam nor I responded. “We’ve got class!” He prompted as he looped his arm in mine and pulled me away from Adam’s grasp. For the second time since I’d met him a few hours earlier, I looked back to see Adam standing where I’d left him, staring after me, with a look of pure confusion on his face.

Justin and I ran towards the Maths Department. Maths was one of my favourite classes, but that’s only because it was one of the few classes that I shared with Justin. And right now, I need my best friend, Justin! I don’t think I would have made it through class knowing that everyone would be staring and talking about me. For as long as I could remember, I was fine with being in the background and never being the centre of attention. We were just about to enter our classroom when we saw Lydia and Marie walking down the hall, whispering, of course! The closer they got, the more of their conversation we could hear. And surprise, surprise! They were talking about yours truly! They looked up at me and then towards each other and giggled loudly. I decided I was going to ignore everyone and get on with class; they were probably just jealous that they weren’t in the same classes as Adam or that he was being friendly with me and not them.

In class Mr Pattinson was rambling on about algebra or something like that. I tried to pay attention to him but with Justin there, I just wanted to talk to him like we usually did in class. I could feel everybody’s eyes on me, watching and waiting for something to happen. I grabbed a scrap piece of paper and scribbled a note to Justin in my sloppy handwriting.

Why is everyone acting like this is such a big deal? Just because he talked to me?! What’s so great ‘bout that?!

I quickly handed the note to Justin and watched him read it out of the corner of my eye. He picked up his pen and scribbled something and handed it back.

Maybe it’s because he is the new hot guy, and they want to know why he’s talking to you instead of fawning over them. I don’t know! Like you said, you were just talking, no big deal. It’ll blow over soon, don’t worry about it.

Justin was right. Well really, I was right. This is what I’d been saying all morning. It was nothing. No big deal. It’d all blow over by the end of the day.

The rest of the day went by quickly. I spent the lunch hour sitting in the sun on the field with Justin and Tegan as we watched Dillon and Felix play-wrestle not far from us. The heat from the sun felt good against my back, but I was regretting my wardrobe choices this morning; I was also kicking myself for not grabbing my sunglasses. After lunch I had Classics and I finished up my day with a study period. I sat through Classics feigning attention. I had long since mastered the ability to look like I was engaged and paying attention, when in reality I was completely zoned out. I paid no attention to the whispers, comments or looks that came my way and I didn’t notice if Adam was in any more of my classes. I didn’t even care at this point. If I wanted things to blow over then I had to stop feeding into the drama of it all, I had to stop waiting for him to show up and make things awkward again.

Independent Study was probably my favourite ‘class’ and it wasn’t even really a class. Pretty much we went to a classroom and sat in silence for about an hour because we were supposed to be ‘studying’ or catching up on homework. Usually, I spent the hour listening to music, writing in my journal or writing letters to my friends, but today I needed to actually get some study done. I settled into my usual seat at the back of the class and immediately switched playlists. I needed less ‘emo’ and more ‘calm.’ I needed to focus on my History essay. I quickly glanced around the room. One half of the mean-girls were here, Marie sitting 3 desks to the right, 2 rows ahead. She was far more tolerable with Lydia, but still had a bit of a mean streak. I got stuck into the essay – some days these things flowed out of me, today was one of those days.

I don’t know how long it took, but soon the essay had been forgotten and I was staring out the window daydreaming when something caught my attention out of the corner of my eye. I’d seen something white fluttering by. I glanced around the room but couldn’t figure out what had caught my attention. I picked up my pen again and re-read the last sentence I’d written when I noticed a small white folded piece of paper sitting on my desk. I glanced around the room again, with a look of confusion on my face, hoping to figure out where this piece of paper had come from. This time I noticed a familiar figure sitting a few desks away. It was none other than Adam. Why hadn’t I noticed him before now? Or had he only just turned up? I gently unfold the piece of paper before me.

Is it just me or is everyone here really nosey? They just keep staring at me as if I have a tattoo on my face! What other classes did you have today? Well, I hope you write back. It’ll give me something to do because it is quite boring having no study to do in independent study. - Adam

As I read the note, I could feel him watching me and laughing at my facial expressions. I looked up and he was looking at me then looked at the paper, waiting for me to reply. I picked up my pen and started to write: Yes people here are nosey, but you’re the new kid so it happens. I’m sure you heard the whispers at the cafeteria. You and I are the talk of the school. It’ll blow over, I don’t care what people think anyway. As for now I’m going back to my music! Enjoy the rest of your study time.

I finished writing and added a little smiley face at the bottom with its tongue poking out. I folded up the note and tossed it across the table to him then turned up my music and smiled to myself. Leaning back into my chair I let my music take me away. I closed my eyes and it felt like I was in my little meadow again lying in the grass.

[apparently-artless]

The Other Way Around - 4th Chapter

A Daiya no Ace Fanfic

Warning: Not Beta Read, English Grammar Nazi be warned! ( `ε´ )

Summary:

Kanemaru always acts like a mom when it comes to Sawamura. Always. Always looking out for him, no matter how much the blonde boys denied it. But now that he’s sick, it’s Sawamura’s turn to take care of him.

Note: Different settings and timelines for each character. Check out source below for AO3 version.

Characters: Sawamura Eijun, Kanemaru Shinji, Seto Takuma, Kominato Haruichi, Furuya Satoru, Toujou Hideaki, Yoshikawa Haruno

Chapter 4: Kanemaru Shinji

Half an hour had passed but the frowning southpaw pitcher still found himself staring at the very first question on the assignment he was trying to solve on his own. As it turned out, trying to do his homework by himself seemed impossible at the moment. So what the pitcher did is let out a small sigh, stand up straight, pick up his notebook and a pen, and then step outside his dorm room.

As expected, I need Kanemaru to help me with this one.

Sawamura swiftly moved towards Kanemaru’s room. He went up the stairs, went straight through the other teammate’s dorm room, and barged the door open as he shouted his name.

“Yo! Kanemaru!”

There were two people currently in the room, one was the person he was looking for and the other was his bespectacled dorm mate. Both flinched upon hearing Sawamura’s voice.

“What is it!? My head’s aching! Do not make it worse!” the blonde boy blurted out as soon as he recognized the voice of their loud southpaw pitcher.

Sawamura walked to the middle of the room as he looked left and right, and then he paused as he noticed something.

“Kanemaru, your face is a bit red. Are you okay?” Sawamura asked as he moved closer to the other boy’s face invading his personal space.

“I’m fine. It’s just a headache. I’ll just rest for a bit and it’ll be gone,” Kanemaru replied as he backed away from the other boy’s intense staring.

The pitcher flinched upon hearing the word ‘rest’ as he frantically hid the notebook on his back.

“So? What have you come here for?”

“Oh. Uhm, that...”

“What is it?”

“Uhm. You see, I –“ Sawamura started, his other empty hand scratching the back of his neck. “I actually forgot!”

To avoid lying, because the boy was not used to it, Sawamura just laughed out loud.

“Huh!? Has your stupidity went up even further??” Kanemaru blurted out upon hearing Sawamura’s response.

After his laughing subsided, Sawamura’s face turned serious, and then he bowed politely at Kanemaru.

“This lowly Sawamura Eijun apologizes for disturbing you! I will come back when I remembered what business I have with you!” Sawamura responded as he turned his back at his classmate making sure that his notebook will not be seen.

“Oi, wait!” Kanemaru shouted but the other boy had left in a hurricane, not even bothering to look at him.

After the door went shut, a silent pause emanated the room.

“Geez. What’s up with that guy?” Kanemaru whispered as he scratched his head.

Seto, who was quietly observing the two snickered slightly at the sight.

“What is it, Seto?”

“Oh, nothing. I’m just quite surprised that Sawamura-senpai can be considerate,” Seto replied at his senpai, still giggling.

“Considerate? That Sawamura? How so?”

“I guess he went here to ask for your help with his homework. But when he heard you want to rest, he changed his mind.”

“Wha – “ Kanemaru winced, his face slightly blushing. “Since when did that guy learned to be considerate? He wasn’t even the least apologetic when he kept on hitting me when he was practicing his pitching. He better makes sure he won’t fail any subjects! We’ll be in a pinch if our ace couldn’t join the tournament because he failed a class.”

“You really look out for Sawamura-senpai all the time,” Seto commented upon seeing Kanemaru’s reaction.

“Huh!? Who would care about that stupid guy!”

Just how much of a tsundere can this guy be? His awkwardness kinda reminds me of Koushuu.

After Kanemaru had finished his schoolwork, he went to bed early so he’ll be fully recovered the next day. Unfortunately, it didn’t go as he had expected. Upon waking up, Kanemaru felt even more tired, his throat was aching and he was feeling a bit warm too. Nevertheless, he still went to class.

“Good morning,” Kanemaru greeted as he went to his seat.

“Good morning! How are you feeling now, Kanema –“ Sawamura paused upon seeing his haggard-looking classmate entered the room. “Hey! Are you okay? I thought you’re going to rest yesterday! It looked like your state got worse! You did an extra practice yesterday, didn’t you?”

“Shut up, Bakamura. You’re the only one who’s gonna do something like that. Don’t expect others to act like you,” Kanemaru replied, slightly irritated at his growing headache.

“I think you should go to the infirmary,” Sawamura stated, ignoring Kanemaru’s jabbing at his stupidity. “Before it gets worse.”

“Yes. Yes. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Don’t just keep it in mind, do something about it!”

Sawamura was about to add some more retort but was suddenly interrupted when the bell rang and their teacher had entered the room. He went back to his seat but glanced a worried look at the blonde boy before sitting down.

During the entire day at class, Sawamura kept on pestering Kanemaru. He even asked their PE teacher to let Kanemaru rest instead of doing physical activities. He had explained to their instructor that his friend was not feeling good at the moment. The teacher, who was touched by Sawamura’s concern for his friend agreed. Sawamura then dragged Kanemaru towards the infirmary, not even listening to what the latter has to say.

“Pardon us for the intrusion!” Sawamura said in a not-so-loud manner. “My friend right here is very sick and he needs some rest, may I ask for your permission to let him rest?”

“Stop exaggerating, I’m not that sick.”

“That’s what very sick people say!” Sawamura replied with his hands on his hips.

The nurse, who had been observing the two argue as soon as they entered the room, just looked at them with a smile and cleared her throat to catch their attention. The two boys stopped arguing and just looked at her, waiting for further instructions.

“You can bring your very sick friend over here,” the nurse said as she motioned the two boys on the nearest bed by the window.

Sawamura thanked the nurse while he dragged Kanemaru towards the bed while the blond complained “I told you, I wasn’t that sick.” He still ended up following the pitcher’s pace as he had no more strength to argue.

Once Kanemaru had settled himself on the bed, the nurse took his temperature.

“It’s 38.5 degrees. I’ll get you some medicine. For now, you need to rest,” the nurse stated.

“We’ll have our lunch break after our PE class. Just stay on the bed until the break’s over, I’ll bring you lunch!” Sawamura mentioned as he was about to exit the infirmary. The boy had probably planned to let Kanemaru rest during PE class so he can extend his rest by another more hour during lunch break.

The room went silent when Sawamura left.

“Nice friend you have there,” the nurse spoke as she smiled at Kanemaru.

“Y-yeah.”

That was all Kanemaru replied. Sawamura was indeed a good and very loyal friend. He had proven it to him a few times already. And despite his constant naggings, Sawamura would complain but eventually, listen to what he has to say. Needless to say, he would never admit to the southpaw that he also considered him as his friend.

When their PE class finally finished, Sawamura changed to his uniform as fast as he could and even dragged Furuya to buy some lunch.

“Hurry up, Furuya! Kanemaru might be hungry right now! He needs to eat something so he can take his medicine,” Sawamura shouted as he noticed the distance between them increasing.

After buying lunch, they proceeded straight away to the infirmary. Furuya was the one holding their drinks while Sawamura was holding their lunch. By the time they arrived, Kanemaru was sleeping soundly. They waited for around 20 minutes before deciding to wake the boy up. Kominato and Toujou had arrived as well when they were contacted by Sawamura.

Kanemaru was already in the middle of waking up when he heard some voices surrounding him.

“Thankfully, it’s just a fever and not flu. According to the nurse, he’ll be okay in a day or two if he just has plenty of rest,” Sawamura mentioned to the other three teammates.

At that statement, Kanemaru heard some sigh of relief from the other guys. He then opened his eyes as he checked who Sawamura’s companions were.

“Oh, you’re awake now, Shinji. How are you feeling?” Toujou asked being the first one to notice the blonde boy waking up.

Before he replied, Kanemaru tried to sit up but he was lacking the strength to do so.

“Geez. What’re you doing? Don’t force yourself!” Sawamura said as he helped Kanemaru to sit on the bed. “Here, we brought you lunch.”

The three guys assisted as they looked for a small table they can put on top of Kanemaru’s bed so he can eat properly. Kanemaru noticed that there were some pudding, 3 rice balls, and then a thermos as they placed it on top of the table.

“I asked the staff from the cafeteria to make you some soup,” explained Sawamura. “Just in case you can’t eat the rice balls.”

“T-thanks,” Kanemaru whispered, his face still slightly flushed from the fever.

The other four students had rice balls for lunch as well so they could eat inside the infirmary. The nurse had allowed it since it won’t make a mess on the bedsheets. Luckily, it was only Kanemaru who was resting at the moment. After taking their lunch, the nurse gave Kanemaru another set of medicine. Surprisingly, he had eaten all the food that Sawamura gave him and drank some of the juices provided by Furuya. He was shocked when Furuya had offered him three different bottles, one 100% orange juice (the typical orange drink that Sawamura buys), one Pocari Sweat, and one ginger ale and told him nonchalantly, “It’s because you never asked me to buy drinks for you, I don’t have any idea what drink you would like.”

He placed the other two drinks on the bedside table and proceeded to drink the orange juice together with the medicine. Before the lunch break had ended, Kanemaru’s fever had gone down to 37.8 degrees. He was about to stand up from his bed but the nurse stopped him.

“That won’t do, Kanemaru-kun. I won’t advise you to go back to your class right now,” the nurse had reprimanded the blonde boy.

“But I already missed a class,” Kanemaru justified.

“You’ll miss more than just one class if you forced yourself right now. Your temperature is getting better. You need to rest more. You can go back to class once your temperature goes back to normal,” the nurse replied in a stern voice, her hands on her hips as if to intimidate the boy.

“O-okay. I’ll rest some more,” Kanemaru responded, slightly frustrated about the fact that he will miss some lessons.

“Don’t worry, Kanemaru! Leave it to me! This Sawamura Eijun will make sure to take down all the notes for all the lessons you’re going to miss,” Sawamura interjected.

“That’s what I’m worried about,” Kanemaru facepalmed as he let out a small sigh.

“You’re so mean! What do you take me for?”

“Do you really want me to respond to that question?”

“Eijun-kun, Kanemaru, stop arguing already. We’re at the infirmary, remember?” Kominato interrupted.

The two stopped their arguing as they bade Kanemaru goodbye as their break’s about to end. Deciding that it would be much better to take more rest so he’d be all healed up by tomorrow, Kanemaru resigned himself to sleep.

The remaining time of the day went by in a flash. Sawamura was unexpectedly very attentive in the remaining classes, making sure to write down the notes he could comprehend while listening to his teachers.

By the time Kanemaru had woken up, it was already past 5 in the afternoon. Nothing could be heard except the clacking of the keyboard made by the nurse. He noticed that his headache was already gone and his throat was no longer aching. Kanemaru had drunk the ginger ale given by Furuya, maybe it helped. He sat up straight and looked at his surroundings, and then at his watch.

I’m late for practice!

“Oh, you’re awake now, Kanemaru-kun. How are you feeling now?”

“I feel better, all thanks to you,” Kanemaru replied politely, bowing slightly towards the nurse.

“Your energetic friend dropped by half an hour ago, he told me to let you know that he already brought your things back to your dorm room and that he will let your coach know that you can’t go to practice for today,” the nurse explained while measuring his temperature.

“I can’t go to practice today?”

“Of course not! Your temperature already went back to normal but if you push yourself, your fever might come back. I gave your friend some instructions so he’ll know what to do.”

The boy turned silent, frustration quite obvious on his face. But he just nodded as he stood up and fixed the bed. Before exiting the room, Kanemaru thanked the nurse once more for looking out for him.

“Get some rest! Drinks lots of fluids! Don’t push yourself too hard for today, got it?” the nurse instructed.

“Yes, ma’am!”

Kanemaru was walking along the corridor when he heard someone calling his name.

“Oi! Kanemaru!” the southpaw pitcher shouted as he ran towards the blonde boy.

“Sawamura? What’re you doing here?” Kanemaru asked upon noticing the boy wearing his baseball uniform, he was already slightly drenched in sweat.

“Good timing! I thought you’d be awake by now so I came to get you,” Sawamura replied as soon as he reached Kanemaru, slightly breathless from all the running, and beamed at his classmate.

“You’re really stupid, you know? I’m fine now so I can go to the dorm room on my own,” Kanemaru responded irritatingly but was touched by the pitcher’s concern.

“Who are you calling stupid! And dorm room my ass! If I didn’t come and fetch you, you might have probably ignored the nurse’s instructions and went straight to practice!” Sawamura retorted, flailing his arms wildly at his classmate.

“That’s –“ Kanemaru paused, unable to look at the intense staring of the other. “Not entirely true.”

“Which means you’re not denying it entirely either! See? It was a good move on my end to check on you. And just so you know, the coach was already aware that you have a fever so you’re not allowed on the grounds!” Sawamura exclaimed.

Kanemaru let out a small sigh and just replied, “Okay, I give up. Drag me wherever you want to drag me.”

“It’s good when you’re being this honest,” Sawamura smiled as he grabbed Kanemaru’s wrist with his left hand, literally dragging his classmate towards the dorm room.

Upon reaching Kanemaru’s room, Sawamura went out for a few minutes and returned with a few things on his hands.

“The nurse gave me some medicine. You still need to drink some after dinner. I bought you some drinks to keep yourself hydrated,” Sawamura explained as he put all the stuff he brought on Kanemaru’s desk. “You don’t need to go to the cafeteria, I’ll be the one to bring your dinner here.”

“You really don’t need to, I can – “

“No! It’s the nurse’s instructions! You need plenty of rest so you’ll be fully recovered by tomorrow! Oh, and by the way, the coach said you can start practicing tomorrow but just do some light exercises if you’re good by then, so for now, just rest, okay?”

“O-okay.”

“And don’t worry about the freshmen. I’ll take over your responsibility in checking their meals for tonight’s dinner. Leave everything to Sawamura Eijun!” the southpaw pitcher saluted.

“You really don’t have to do all these for me, you know? It kinda gives me the creep.”

“This guy! Since you’re sick, I’ll let it slide for now!” Sawamura paused for a moment before speaking once more.

“Besides, you’ve always been looking out for me. So I thought this time, I’ll be the one to look out for you.”

Sawamura just smiled at Kanemaru. The latter was touched, extremely touched that his brain had almost short-circuited that he didn’t know what to respond to Sawamura’s very sincere and honest words.

Geez. How can this guy say something like that? Really, his innocence and naivete know no boundaries!

Kanemaru, unable to find the right words to say, decided to choose the most convenient path to take – to run.

“I’ll be resting now, you can go back to your room,” Kanemaru spoke in a soft voice as he covered himself with a blanket, to hide his embarrassment of course, but Sawamura didn’t need to know that.

“Oh. Hmm. Okay. But you need to change your clothes first, okay? Don’t sleep on your uniform.”

“Yes. Yes. I got it.”

Sawamura observed Kanemaru for a few more seconds and decided to go back to practice.

During dinner, Sawamura pestered the freshmen non-stop about their meals. You would expect them to be annoyed but the kouhais were actually happy being doted upon by their ace pitcher except for one wolf boy who was releasing an emanating aura towards the pitcher which the boy just simply ignored. Ever since the last Spring tournament, before Sawamura became the ace, some of the first-year baseball players were already fanboying at the southpaw pitcher upon witnessing with their own eyes his excellent pitching.

After dinner was over, Sawamura went back to the dorm rooms, his hands occupied with a tray with some food on top of it. Seto accompanied him since they were going to the same room and opened the door for Sawamura.

“Kanemaru, are you awake? Here’s your dinner! Sorry, it took a while. Were you hungry?”

The blonde boy woke up to the sound of Sawamura’s voice. He sat on his bed as he looked at the southpaw pitcher holding a tray with his dinner on top. Upon seeing Kanemaru awake, he placed the tray on top of his desk.

“Seto, please look after Kanemaru for me. Make sure he eats it before it gets cold. I’ll just step out for a bit, I’ll be back.”

“I understand, Sawamura-senpai. Leave everything to me.”

“Ho… what a great kouhai you have here, Kanemaru! Now, don’t be stubborn and eat your dinner properly! I’ll be back!” Sawamura replied as he ruffled Seto’s hair and exited the room enthusiastically.

“He’s so energetic. I wonder where he’s getting all that energy,” Kanemaru commented as soon as Sawamura was gone.

He sat right next to his table. He checked his dinner and proceeded to eat. Kanemaru was still in the middle of consuming his dinner when Sawamura arrived.

“I brought all the notes you missed for today! I also bought some more drinks,” Sawamura said as soon as he entered the room without even knocking. Thankfully, both Kanemaru and Seto already got used to it.

“What? Whose notes did you borrow?” Kanemaru asked as reached for the notes placed on top of his desk trying to inspect the contents.

“Rude! That’s mine! I didn’t borrow it from anyone. I told you to leave everything to me, didn’t I?”

“Oh. That’s right. I forgot. But I’d never thought you’d diligently write your notes this time,” Kanemaru replied nonchalantly as he browsed through the notes, slightly satisfied with its contents knowing it’s Sawamura’s.

“Well, if I put my mind to it, I can do it too,” Sawamura whispered, slightly pouting at his classmate’s reaction.

“How about you keep on doing it every lesson?” Kanemaru replied, still busy looking at Sawamura’s notes.

“Sorry, Kanemaru-sensei! If I do that every day, Sawamura Eijun will not survive the entire school year!” Sawamura said in a loud voice.

Seto laughed at Sawamura’s reply while Kanemaru just facepalmed while reprimanding the southpaw pitcher saying “That’s nothing to be proud of!”

After finishing Kanemaru’s dinner, he drank his medicine, read some of Sawamura’s notes, and then went back to bed. Sawamura was busy chatting with Seto. As soon as he noticed that his classmate was already lying down, he picked the thermometer on the desk and checked Kanemaru’s temperature – 37.5 degrees.

“Your temperature seems normal now. I’ll put some of the drinks beside your bed so you can drink it if ever you got thirsty,” Sawamura stated as he arranged some bottles beside Kanemaru’s bed. “Get some sleep. Good night, Kanemaru!”

Sawamura smiled at the blonde boy but Kanemaru just shrugged. He turned his back towards the southpaw pitcher as he covered himself with a blanket.

The next day, Kanemaru was already fully recovered. When he arrived at their classroom, he noticed that some of his classmates were gathered in front. And at the center of it was the southpaw pitcher, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked intently on his notes while he listened to one of his female classmates explaining something to him. At times, some of his classmates would add something and Sawamura would intently look at the person as if to acknowledge that he was indeed listening.

After a few seconds of silence and some pondering on Sawamura’s end, his face brightened and shouted.

“Oh!!! I see!!! I get it now! I get it now!” Sawamura exclaimed as he wrote something on his notes.

“Sawamura-kun became the class’ little brother while you were not around, Kanemaru-kun,” Yoshikawa spoke as soon as she noticed the crowd in front of the room and Kanemaru’s confused expression.

“Oh, good morning, Yoshikawa-san,” Kanemaru greeted upon hearing the baseball manager’s voice.

“Good morning, Kanemaru-kun,” Yoshikawa responded with a smile to which Kanemaru blushed.

Apparently, Sawamura hadn’t finished his homework for his second class so he had requested the help of some of his classmates to explain to him how he should answer the last part. At first, he only asked one of his classmates, but Sawamura didn’t seem to get it. Some of his classmates got concerned and help with the explanation. And then the next thing they knew, there were around 10 people gathered at the front trying to help Sawamura finish his assignment.

“Thank you, everyone! It’s because of all of you that this lowly Sawamura Eijun was able to understand the lesson now! I love you all!” Sawamura shouted as he smiled intently at the group gathered around him.

Some were girls and some were boys, but all of them were blushing at the ace pitcher of Seidou. Some were ruffling his hair while some were offering him some food like they’re looking after a toddler.

That guy, not only was he getting even more popular with girls, he’s even getting popular with boys?? I’m so envious!!

Kanemaru’s internal monologue was interrupted when Hoshino spoke once more.

“Actually, it kinda started yesterday. During our last class, our teacher gave us the whole time for self-study. During that period, Sawamura was going around asking some of our classmates about the previous lessons that you were not around, comparing notes just to make sure you will not miss anything while you were sick yesterday. He’s just that kind of guy. He wanted to be of help to you so badly that our classmates felt like wanting to help him too.”

“To be honest, yesterday was one of those days where Sawamura was actively listening to the class. He even raised some questions and when the teachers would answer him, he’d request them to slow down because he’s trying to write it down. Some of the teachers were amused and touched that Sawamura is finally becoming a role model student,” Yoshikawa continued speaking so Kanemaru would have an idea what happened in the class yesterday.

Kanemaru was dumbfounded, unsure of what to say at what he just heard.

So that explains the clear contents of the notes he lent me yesterday.

Kanemaru was about to say something when Sawamura suddenly called him.

“Kanemaru! You’re back! Are you feeling fine now?” Sawamura shouted across the room, some of their classmates looking back and forth at the two.

“I’m fine. And don’t shout inside the room! You’re disturbing people!”

“Yo! Sawamura’s babysitter is now back! Geez. Don’t get sick! We’ve got our hands full yesterday looking after him,” one of his classmates said teasingly while the class laughed.

“Who’s babysitting who? You’re so rude!” Sawamura commented as he pouted at the boy.

Kanemaru noticed the light atmosphere emanating from the room. Everyone was laughing and he was hearing a few comments regarding Sawamura’s behavior yesterday.

As soon as Sawamura finished his homework, he went straight towards Kanemaru’s desk.

“It’s good to see you’re doing fine already. You can go back to practice now. But remember, just some light exercises, okay? Or coach will surely reprimand you,” Sawamura said.

“I know already. Geez. You’re such a worrywart,” Kanemaru replied.

“Of course, I’d be worried. You’re my friend after all!”

“Wha–“ Kanemaru was once again surprised by Sawamura’s honest response.

“You really are an idiot,” Kanemaru simply replied, intending to run away again from Sawamura’s unexpected words by infuriating their ace pitcher.

“And I keep on telling you, I’m not an idiot!”

“I’m fine now so you don’t have to worry,” Kanemaru interjected while intently avoiding Sawamura’s gaze. “I’m fine now so if there are things you don’t understand, feel free to bother me, just like you always do.”

When Kanemaru noticed that there was no response, he was forced to look at the southpaw pitcher. Sawamura was staring at him with a surprised look, his mouth slightly parted. And then he smiled brightly, comparable to that of sunlight.

“Thanks, Kanemaru!”

“Don’t get me wrong! I just don’t want you asking around girls for help. Your popularity is increasing so much that it pisses me off!!” Kanemaru blurted out as he put the pitcher’s head in between his knuckles.

“Eh? What’re you talking abou– “ Sawamura started but was interrupted by the sudden pain inflicted on him by the blonde boy. “Ouch! Kanemaru, stop! My head! It hurts! It hurts!”

And then the whole class laughed once more at their two classmates bickering at each other. Except for Furuya who has no intention of waking up until the school bell rang.

[wellhellsbelles]

Hi! i absolutely loved both the 1st chapter of to the rythm of your wild heart and the mini fanfic you wrote :) i found somewhere this prompt that was like farkle and riley are best friends and they work as teachers in the same school and their students ship them and have bets on when they are going to finally admit their feelings for eachother

omg thank you so much!! i’m having such a fun time writing all these prompts, and this one ended up being my favorite by far (especially considering the word count is uhhh 7.1k whoops lol) 

Enjoy!!! :)

ao3 link or read below

//

Even if the universe hadn't pre-ordained them getting together, their students would've forced them in that direction.

OR

The one where Farkle and Riley are teachers, best friends, and their students are maybe a little too involved in their love lives.

(i. the challenge)

“Okay, I know I’ve said it the last few years, but this will definitely be the year my photography class beats your puny little physics class,” Riley told Farkle, dropping a box full of supplies on his desk. He peered up from his computer, adjusting his glasses as he quirked a brow at his best friend.

“So that’s how we’re starting tomorrow? With a fresh cup of competition? What happened to Miss ‘I-Wanna-Take-It-Easy-This-Year’?”

“That was summer Riley. She’s different, you should know this by now, Farkle,” Riley scoffed. “And besides, that was before I was able to get funding for really cool cameras for class, photoshop for all our computers, and was given the greenlight to start photography club. Face it, Minkus, you’re toast.”

“Okay, Riley. Whatever you say,” Farkle rolled his eyes at her, stealing a sip of coffee from the mug on his desk (Riley got it for him a couple of Christmases ago and he loved it; it said, “I don’t give a flux”, and had a helpful diagram underneath that she couldn’t even begin to understand.)

“Damnit, Farkle! Stop using your stupid head games so I can feel victorious! I know you’re in this just about as much as I am, so stop feigning disinterest. I will be the best teacher this year for once! All of those physics students are going to be begging to be in my class!” Riley shouted, picking up the box off his desk and disappearing out of the room. Farkle listened to the sound of her sneakers squeaking against the hallway tile fading out in the distance, shaking his head and chuckling as he continued typing away on his computer.

//

(ii. the meeting)

Riley spotted him hiding amongst the teachers filling up the auditorium seats for their mandatory teacher orientation for the beginning of the new school year. It warmed her heart to see him sunk low in his chair, trying to appear invisible and yet clearly waiting for her if the denim jacket draped over the seat beside him was any indication.

They’d done this meeting numerous times now since they started—they’d met five years ago, both new teachers to the school and unsure about their place amongst the other staff. Riley had been nervous as hell, but as soon as she saw Farkle sequestered to one of the rows further back by himself, she realized she wasn’t alone. She took a seat beside him, introduced herself despite his desperation to remain unseen, and from then on they were glued to the hip, the best of friends. Neither of them had been apart from one another during any school function, and they didn’t intend on changing that.

He was her partner in crime, after all.

“Miss me?” Riley asked when she reached him. Farkle breathed a sigh of relief when he noticed her, picking the denim jacket up off of the seat and gesturing beside himself.

Even after all this time, he still remained nervous at the beginning of the year, still hiding himself away from the rest of the staff he knew well by now. His penchant for anxiety was a curious one, but not anything Riley chided him for. She’d done her job by helping him get acclimated to everyone else and was definitely pushing it by encouraging him to sit closer to the rest of the teachers during these meetings; she chose which battles she fought very carefully.

“You’re late by five minutes,” he said pointedly, and Riley rolled her eyes.

“So dramatic, Farkle.”

“I prefer ‘reasonably ceremonious’.”

“Whatever you say. Now, did you bring our entertainment or what?”

Farkle flashed his phone, showing off an image of a bingo sheet.

“Bingo,” he smiled cheekily, “It’s an updated version. I think I notice new quirks about Principal Carson every year.”

“As long as the bingo space is ‘Gals and Pals’, then we’re good as gold,” Riley told him.

“Oh, you know it is. I did have to replace some of the obvious Einstein quotes into their own category to make room for the comedian stool and water bottle.”

“It’s like he wants to do standup. I think we should just encourage him to do standup, it’d be a wonderful time,” she laughs.

“It’d be fantastic, but then we’d be out of a principal. He’d be too good,” Farkle said, and Riley’s laughter quickly turned to a full-out peal. Some of the teachers around sent her looks of disdain and she cut herself off, but not before allowing one last cackle to slip past her lips.

“Alright, gals and pals! Are we all ready to get started for our new school year? I know I am!” Principal Carson exclaimed, taking his place at the front of the stage. “We better get started, because as Einstein said, time is relative!”

“Wow, two in one go. This is getting to be too easy,” Riley whispered, and Farkle couldn’t help but agree.

 //

 (iii. the bet)

Riley watched with amusement as all her students gathered around one student in particular, whispering in hushed, conspicuous tones. She loved her advanced photography class because they all had been together for so long, had formed their own friendships with one another after sharing the same class. They were sort of one big family at this point, and it wouldn’t be the first time they’d done something sneaky behind Riley’s back.

It’s only the second week, Riley thought, What could they possibly be planning?

“Alright guys, break it up. Don’t you wanna learn some neat photoshop tricks?” Riley asked rhetorically, waving her hands apart to mimic separating.

The students fled to their seats, allowing her to finally see the student in question they had been crowding around. The girl, a small red-head named Penny, was busy compiling a stack of cash and then shoving it into a plastic bag, and despite knowing Penny was harmless, Riley didn’t want to leave the matter.

“Penny, whatcha got there?” Riley said, pointing to the money. Penny shrugged.

“It’s the pot. I’m the bookmaker.”

“Bookmaker?”

“Ms. Matthews, no offense, but please follow along. It’s not that hard; I’m taking bets.”

Riley narrowed her eyes at her student.

“What could you guys even be betting on? We’re in a high school,” Riley mused, bewildered. “Also I am not about to let you guys run a gambling ring under my nose. That reeks of something I can get in trouble for.”

“Relax,” Penny told her, “It’s nothing bad. We’re all just placing bets on when Mr. Minkus is going to ask you out. Or vice-versa. Actually, there’s also a bet for if it happens at the same time. I think Frankie’s the one who’s got that bet, he’s been holding down the betting pool for the AP Physics class.”

“What?!” Riley exclaimed, “What do you mean you’re betting on us getting together?”

“Ms. Matthews, you and Mr. Minkus have been toeing around one another the last few years. We just figured we’d try and capitalize on it this year. I ran a soft betting pool last year sans money, and I think it turned out really well, personally,” Penny exclaimed.

“You two are just so cute together!” Maggie crooned from behind her.

“I really thought I was gonna win it, too, but then we came back and I had lost,” Jess pouted from the back of the classroom. Riley’s head was still reeling from the fact that her students were betting on her love-life.

“What made you think you were gonna win?” she asked Jess.

“Well, Tanner had told us that Mr. Minkus had moved into your apartment building at the end of the year, so I assumed it’d take you to the end of summer to get your crap together. I was wrong, apparently,” Jess said.

“Oh my god, I cannot have my students betting on my personal life. That is just all levels of wrong,” Riley announced, running her hands down her face. “Alright, no more of this! I am not condoning this strange gambling ring you’ve got going on. And Penny, you better tell Frankie to cut it out, too! Mr. Minkus and I need our students to recognize that there’s a reason we keep our personal lives out of the classroom. We’re here to learn, so if I catch you guys talking about it in class again, I’ll have no choice but to give you detention, okay?”

That effectively cut off any further chatter on the matter, and Riley sighed, shaking her head.

 This was going to be a fun school year, no doubt about that.

 //

 (iv. the new teacher)

“The kids have a bet going on,” Riley told Farkle three weeks later. They were waiting their turn in the makeshift buffet line in the cafeteria, paper plates in their hands as they made their second trip for dessert. A potluck had been set up after school for the staff to celebrate the first month of school going off without a hitch (it was always Riley’s favorite; Lisa the Latin teacher always brought homemade lemon squares that were to die for.)

“Oh yeah?” Farkle asked.

“Apparently they’re in conjunction with your kids, as well. I had to stop a gambling circuit with actual money from forming in my classroom, but I think it’s already too late,” she groaned, stepping forward when the line moved.

“Wait, my kids, too? I know we get competitive against one another but isn’t that taking it a little too far?” he said, eyebrow raised in concern. “What could they possibly be betting on, they’re high schoolers!”

“You know, I asked the same question. Penny thought I was nuts for pestering her about it.”

“Penny Miller? Notoriously shy Penny Miller? That Penny?”

“Yeah, she’s the bookmaker. I think I made her too confident in my class, if that’s possible.”

“I think someone has an inflated ego. Narcissus, eat your heart out!” Farkle exclaimed, clenching his fist. Riley jabbed him in the side with her elbow.

“Rude! I am not egotistic. I just know my worth is all.”

“Narcissistic,” he coughed, earning him a look of disdain from her.

“You’re mean, Farkle Minkus.”

“I am what I am,” he shrugged, grabbing a piece of cake to place on his plate. “This cake looks too good to be Stacy’s. Is it possible that she honed her cake-making skills this summer, because if so, I’m here for it.”

“Pretty sure the new teacher made it,” the teacher across from him, Landon from the history department, cut in. “Stacy had to go on maternity leave at the last second.”

“New teacher?” Riley furrowed her brows.

“Yeah, Isadora Smackle, teaches calculus. She’s right over there,” he pointed ahead to a small, lanky girl with tan skin, long raven hair, and black cat-eye frames. Farkle’s mouth dropped open and Riley had to poke him to get his attention.

“Farkle?”

“What?” he answered, not really paying attention as his eyes remained on the new teacher. Riley pouted.

“I wasn’t done telling you about the bet. Don’t you want to hear about it?”

“Yeah, sure, but could you give me a moment? I’m gonna go talk to that new teacher,” he told her as he walked off towards Isadora Smackle.

Riley felt a pang of disappointment go through her, but she ignored it for the sake seeming ridiculous. He was just going to go talk to the new teacher, it wasn’t like he was going to abandon Riley at the potluck. It was their tradition to go to these things and bear them together, because as much as Riley put on a front about being comfortable around everyone, it really was only because she had Farkle there to make her feel comfortable.

Without him it was like . . . it was like she was missing a limb.

Riley stole two lemon squares (what, she was feeling sorry for herself!) and sat back down at the table the two of them had once preoccupied. She pretended not to watch them from afar, but she couldn’t help herself in the end—she’d never seen Farkle put himself out there like this; it was strange. But there he was, standing in front of Isadora Smackle with a goofy grin on his face, and despite seeming stiff still, she seemed just as charmed by Farkle.

Suddenly Riley didn’t feel like eating her lemon squares.

She waited for him to come back, too, but after a long while, she realized that was a fruitless effort. Farkle was glued to the new teacher and Riley was left deserted, so she threw out her lemon squares, found her bag, and left to go finish work in her classroom.

And if she ignored the obvious hurt snaking its way down her throat, well . . .

 So be it.

 //

 (v. the grudge)

“Alright, I’m forcing you to eat with me, effective immediately,” Farkle announced as he barged into Riley’s classroom during lunch. She had her door shut to deter any office hours while she tried to catch up on grading, something that seemed to have been slipping by her lately.

The door was not shut, however, to one Farkle Minkus—she couldn’t keep him out even if she tried.

Riley eyed him warily as he set a bag down on her desk, pulling out the contents to reveal Chinese food from their favorite Chinese place down the street.

A bribe.

“Bribe me all you want, Minkus. I’m still busy,” she tried to brush him off, but Farkle was persistent. He didn’t take no for an answer, opening all the containers of food and placing chopsticks in front of her.

“Nope, not going to happen. You’re going to have lunch with me because snuck in all this food, and I’m not going to let it go to waste because somebody is being snippy with me,” he told her, tossing a plate in the only empty spot on her desk. “I hope you appreciate me because I bought orange chicken which I know you love and you know I detest, so dig in or so help me god.”

Well, Riley really couldn’t argue with that logic.

She sighed in resignation, abandoning her position at her computer and turning to face him. She picked up the chopsticks begrudgingly and began scooping rice onto her plate, a small smile on her face.

It was hard for Riley to stay mad at Farkle; he made it impossible.

“Fine, thank you for the food I didn’t ask for, Farkle,” she told him, emphasizing his name at the end for dramatic effect. The smug grin spread across his face quicker than lightning, and she would’ve done anything at that point to wipe it off (except she wouldn’t, she couldn’t.)

“You’re welcome, Riley. Now catch me up on stuff. I haven’t seen you in a hot second.”

“Penny’s still driving me nuts, there’s that. I know she’s still running that underground betting ring and it makes me so mad that I don’t know how to stop it,” Riley huffed. “Then, of course, I have to learn how to use photoshop along with the rest of the kids because I haven’t been able to afford photoshop on my own, so not only does my class get to fail, but they get to see me fail at it, too.”

“Riley,” Farkle said softly, reaching out to grip her hand, “You’ve got this. Your kids know how amazing of a teacher you are, and they know it’s as much of a learning curve for them as it is for you. You’ll get the hang of it because you’re Riley Matthews.”

She couldn’t help the feeling of warmth that spread through her body from his touch, how being around him alone made her mind ten trillion times calmer.

“Thank you, Farkle. For everything, really,” she smiled. Farkle smiled back at her, his mouth dropping open as he made to speak, but then Isadora Smackle (Smackle, she insisted upon being referred to as) opened the door and stuck her head through. Farkle released Riley’s hand at once, his attention turning to Smackle.

“Farkle, we have math club in five minutes! Did you forget you’re supposed to be going over important theorems in preparation for next weekend’s competition?” she asked. Farkle glanced over at Riley then back at Smackle, and Riley didn’t need to be a mind reader to know his decision.

“Go ahead, Farkle. Your math club needs you,” she told him, waving him towards the door.

“Rain check?” he asked as he stood up from the chair he’d pulled up to the desk. Riley nodded.

“Sure thing.”

Farkle waved and parted with a quick goodbye, disappearing out of Riley’s door and leaving her with a desk full of partially touched Chinese food.

 Your math club needs you, she said aloud.

 But I need you more, her heart cried out softly.

 //

 (vi. the planning committee)

As per usual, once October arrived, everyone began planning for the school’s fall festival. It was Riley’s favorite event of the year, the one she looked forward to every time autumn came around. She’d loved it so much her first year of teaching at the school that when the student council needed help after deciding to expand the festival outside of the gym, she volunteered without hesitation. And, of course, where Riley went, Farkle followed.

They always asked for volunteers inside of their classes, but this year Riley was proud that she could enlist her entire photography club to help, along with Farkle’s math club. Sure, things had changed between her and Farkle since the beginning of the semester, but that didn’t mean that they weren’t going to uphold tradition to help plan and set up the festival.

“We should be set for next week,” Rebecca, the student body class president, announced towards the end of their final meeting for planning. “I contacted all the food trucks that had said yes to confirm their attendance and they’re all still on board, Chelsea called the pumpkin patch to check and make sure the pumpkins would be delivered on time, all our booths have been divided between the photography club and math club, and we have a final announcement. Wanna take it away, Ben?”

Ben, the vice president, cleared his throat and a grin grew on his face.

“We didn’t want to say anything until the last minute just to make sure it was going to actually happen, but we booked a Ferris wheel this year!” he exclaimed. Everyone applauded and Riley’s mouth dropped open in surprise.

“That’s amazing, guys! This is going to be the best fall festival yet!”

“Thanks,” Rebecca said, a bashful smile creeping at the corners of her mouth. “Now, any last questions before we break until next week?” No one said anything, everyone in agreement that they had everything on lockdown. “Awesome! Thank you guys so much, and I can’t wait for next Saturday. This is going to be the bomb!”

Everyone began packing up, excited chatter filling the room as they all talked about the anticipated fall festival. Riley picked up her own bag and walked to meet up with Farkle, knocking her shoulder into his.

“Hey,” she greeted him cheerfully.

“Hey!” he echoed back, pulling his laptop bag over his shoulder and following her as they left the room they used for committee meetings.

“So, isn’t this awesome? We’ve got so many cool booths going on this year, food trucks, and a freaking Ferris wheel.”

“I know, I can’t believe how big it’s going to be. To think it was only a small set of booths and homemade crafts when we started out.”

“I loved it then, too, but I’m so glad we’ve been able to help it branch out a bunch. I just know I can’t wait to kick your ass at the ring toss. I don’t mean to brag, but I’ve been practicing all summer long,” she told him, smug. Farkle paused mid-step in the hall, a frown tugging the corners of his mouth downward.

“Uh, about that, Riley . . .”

“What?” she asked, glancing over at him. The look on his face was apologetic, and it suddenly dawned on her why.

“I asked Isadora if she wanted to go with me this year, I’m sorry,” he told her, brow furrowed.

“Oh. Okay,” Riley said, trying her best to keep her features schooled, “That’s . . . that’s fine. I’ll just help out with one of the booths this year. I’m sure Penny would love to have me help with pumpkin carving.”

“Riley, you love getting to do all this stuff at the festival. You don’t need me to have fun there.”

She shook her head.

“No, it’s really fine. I know Penny needed help with coordinating all the pumpkin stuff, so I’ll just do that. I want to see people enjoy it themselves more than anything, so this will make me just as happy,” she tried to reassure him, but her words felt flat even to her own ears.

“Riles . . .” Farkle trailed, wanting to fight her on the matter, but Riley gave him a sad sort of smile.

“I’ll be busy with work and photoshop classes, so see you at the festival?”

“Yeah, of course,” he agreed half-heartedly, and Riley waved goodbye before abandoning him in the hall to walk to her car.

 In that moment, Riley felt like she was losing everything. She didn’t want to, but her heart felt the loss all the same; Farkle was supposed to be her best friend, the one who she went to all these school events with, the person who stuck by her side no matter what. But now that Smackle was in the picture, Riley found herself abandoned at these functions more often than not. What was once enjoyable to her had hinged entirely on Farkle being there with her, and that realization left her feeling . . .

Alone.

She felt alone, and she hated it.

 //

 (vii. the festival)

Riley put on her favorite purple-striped t-shirt, overalls, black converses, and braided her hair into twin pigtails, preparing herself for the festival. She topped the look off by tying a bow around her head, looking at herself in the mirror with confidence afterward. She was determined to enjoy the festival despite the fact that she was flying solo this year, and really, she could. The festival was always her favorite and although her plans changed, she had a feeling she’d still have fun.

She’d be damned if she didn’t.

Riley grabbed her bag and left her apartment, locking the door and resisting throwing a glance at the apartment door across from her. All she needed to do was shut her brain off and not worry about anything, not bother being bent out of shape about the sudden shift in her life.

Easier said than done.

Her brain had this unparalleled habit of holding on to every worry and anxious thought that cropped up inside her mind. It was hard to just shut that off; it was all she ever knew. But she also knew that she’d never forgive herself if she didn’t at least try to enjoy the day she’d been looking forward to all year long. It didn’t behoove her to ruminate, either, so she remained optimistic, actually thrilled to help carve and decorate pumpkins. Fall was still fall, her favorite season of the year, and nothing could stop her from that.

Not even dumb boys and dumb dates.

 The festival was an array of glowing lights when she arrived, and that familiar spark of overwhelming joy coursed through her at the sight. There were already cars filling up the spaces of the parking lot despite the festival not starting for another ten minutes, and Riley couldn’t believe her eyes as she got out of the car, the Ferris wheel standing tall in all its grandiose glory. She beamed at all the hard work coming to fruition, knowing for certain that this was going to be their best festival yet.

“Ms. Matthews, I can’t believe you’re helping me out with pumpkins this year!” Penny greeted her, face already covered in wild face paint that made her look like a scarecrow.

“Yeah, I’m excited!” Riley exclaimed. “I’ve seen the way you’ve manned this booth singlehandedly the last couple of years and can’t wait to help you out.”

“Do you mind setting out some pumpkins for me, then? I still have to get the paint set up for the stations,” Penny asked.

“Sure thing!”

Riley did as she was told, setting out pumpkins of all different shapes, sizes, and colors, admiring each one as she set them down. She was glad that they used pumpkins from a local pumpkin patch and that they didn’t just stick to the standard orange ones, but the other sorts of gourds that came in a variety of colors. As soon as she finished, she noticed that people had already started filing in, kids, teenagers, and parents alike. They all wore bright grins and their eyes sparkled in wonderment at everything around them.

It made Riley’s heart feel warm to see it.

They manned their booth until all the pumpkins had been given away and decorated, happy to see everyone decorate their pumpkins in their own styles. Riley found herself caked with purple paint up the entirety of her arms, and when Penny saw it, she added a brushstroke of orange to her nose.

“To balance it out,” Penny had explained. Riley couldn’t argue with that logic.

By the time the last pumpkin had been gifted, the last few people remaining at the decorating stand, a familiar pair of people arrived.

“Hey, guys,” Farkle said, Smackle at his side. Riley’s smile at him came and went within a few seconds, from the moment she spotted him to the moment she noticed his fingers laced with Smackle’s.

“You look like you jumped in a vat of purple paint,” Smackle pointed out to Riley.

“I may as well have,” Riley found her voice.

“Too bad you two just got here, we’re out of pumpkins,” Penny told them with a shrug.

“That’s okay, we were just stopping by here to check out how everything was going before heading to the Ferris wheel,” Farkle said.

“Oh,” Riley said, her voice small.

“Well, why don’t you two go enjoy it, then? We’ll finish up here ourselves, thanks for visiting!” Penny cut in, an urgent edge to her tone as she shuffled Farkle and Smackle away from their booth. Riley sighed, crossing her arms against her chest as a dry hurt stuck itself in her throat.

“Hey, wanna get some funnel cake? It’s on me, Ms. Matthews; you look like you could use some sweet, fried food,” Penny offered, and Riley didn’t even have it in her to try and fight her on it. She just nodded her head, waiting while Penny grabbed her purse and then tugged her along towards the funnel cake truck.

Penny was right, in the end. Riley’s mood peaked again at the first taste of powdered sugar and fried dough, bursting into a fit of laughter when she noticed Penny had sugar caked all over her face after two minutes of having the confectionary. They wandered around the rest of the festival just to check things out, but Penny remained silent for the benefit of Riley, who appreciated the sentiment very much so. It floored her how caring and amazing her students were, especially Penny who had managed to land herself on Riley’s list after the bet debacle.

“You know, I am sorry about the bet thing,” Penny announced later, breaking the silence. Riley peered at her curiously, finishing her last bite of funnel cake before responding.

“Thanks. It did annoy me, but it didn’t matter to much to me until recently.”

“Do you think,” Penny began, “And don’t get mad at me, but do you think there might be another reason it bothers you?”

“What do you mean?” Riley asked. Penny’s mouth opened to respond, but her bright green eyes peered over to the Ferris wheel, widening in surprise when she saw something. Riley turned in time to see what it was exactly that Penny saw—

Farkle and Smackle were on the Ferris wheel together, and he was kissing her.

Suddenly, Penny’s question to Riley made sense, and more than that, the entire time since Smackle had entered the picture. Riley’s heart plummeted in her chest, her eyes stinging with regret.

 Riley was in love with Farkle.

 But she had realized it a day late and a dollar short, and now she had to face the repercussions and watch as he fell in love with someone else.

 //

 (viii. the breakup)

Riley’s epiphany at the fall festival was earth shattering and it hurt like hell, but that was it. Life went on after that and Riley did her best to ignore her feelings. She knew in retrospect that it had made sense, but there wasn’t much that knowing could do for her now. So she put herself into making herself better at photoshop for the kids, even signing them up for a special class at a local community college that focused on basic fundamentals of photoshop.

Her life wasn’t what it used to be, sure, but she learned to be happy with that. And she was.

Penny didn’t mention the underground betting ring again. In fact, she made it her personal goal to become Riley’s aide in class, sticking to her like Velcro. Riley didn’t know how to feel about the fact that her current best friend was twelve years younger than her but having Penny around was a welcome distraction. She was sweet and it made her happy that she had such wonderful students. Penny was also incredibly talented and actually knew a few photoshop skills that helped Riley out immensely.

Riley hardly saw Farkle anymore.

They were still friends, of course, but he rarely made the time he used to to see her, instead focusing his time on the math club and spending time with Smackle. Riley figured that she needed the space to clear her head, anyhow, because as much as he was her best friend, she depended on him for a lot.

This was . . . this was good for them.

Or that was what Riley tried to convince herself of.

She missed him more than anything, and not just because of her new-found feelings. Riley missed Farkle because he was her person, her best friend, the person she could depend on no matter what. And right now he was doing the one thing she never thought he could do.

He was letting her down.

But she ignored it, pushing her emotions deep down into a cavern in her chest and locking it shut. Riley had to focus on teaching her kids and enjoying her photography club, and idle feelings about Farkle were making themselves an obvious obstacle to that. So she allowed him to fade into the back of her mind, and things got better little by little.

Right until he threw himself back into her life.

“Do you mind if I take a seat next to you?” he asked her one day during one of their monthly staff meetings. It hurt Riley that he’d even feel the need to ask, but she understood that things were different. Not unfixable, just . . . different.

“Of course,” she told him, gesturing to the open spot beside her. His long gangly limbs settled himself into the seat, and Riley tried her best to not be charmed by him.

It didn’t work; it never really could when it came to him.

“You’re not sitting with Smackle today?” Riley inquired, curious. He shrugged half-heartedly.

“We broke up.”

Oh.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Don’t be. We all have a whirlwind romances,” he said, trying to brush it off, but Riley could tell he wasn’t unaffected by it. She relaxed herself around him, unable to tame her natural instinct to comfort him.

“Farkle, romance is romance. You care and regardless of the amount of time you spend together, it still sucks when it ends, even if it’s on your terms. You’re allowed to be affected by the world around you.”

“Can we just talk about it another time?” he asked instead. Riley gave him a soft smile.

“Of course. Wanna pull out the bingo board?”

Farkle beamed.

“Do I ever.”

 //

 (ix. the crush redux)

The thing was, Riley loved holidays. She loved the major holidays—Valentine’s Day, St. Patrick’s Day, Easter, Halloween, Thanksgiving, Halloween—all of them were her favorites. But she also loved the lesser-known or lesser-loved holidays just as much.

She was just a holiday fanatic.

So, despite the event not having as much traction as the fall festival, Riley still maintained excitement for the winter formal. Dances weren’t quite the same for teachers; they didn’t get to enjoy that wonderful feeling of teenage angst and romance, of nerves and excitement at the prospect of getting to enjoy time with your crush. But it had an air of fun attached to it regardless, so Riley helped plan for it all the same.

This was, of course, one of the tasks Riley never asked Farkle to help with.

She volunteered her time completely of her own volition because she genuinely enjoyed planning events for the school, so anything outside of the fall festival Riley assured Farkle he didn’t need to participate if he didn’t want to. And he didn’t want to—usually.

Which was why it came as a surprise to Riley when he arrived five minutes past starting time and sat beside her in the planning committee room without a single word, just pure determination on his face.

“What are you even doing here?” Riley had whispered, only to earn a hush from Farkle.

“Shhh. We’ve gotta focus right now.”

She huffed back at him but obeyed directions all the same, her curiosity by his presence still piqued, nonetheless.

Everything had gotten better between them; they’d spent the last month getting reacquainted with their friendship, not only spending time together in school but out of school, as well. He’d insisted on taking her out to eat every Friday, and the two of them created lesson plans together every week. There was just one small hitch in their friendship that made everything just a little more complicated.

Riley knew she was in love with him now.

That was something she could hold back easily before, when she knew he was unavailable and didn’t want to make time for her. But now that he was single, he wanted to spend every second with her, and it made Riley want to tear her hair out from the frustration that was bubbling up inside her.

At least she knew she had the angst and romance ready to go for the winter dance.

“Any questions?” Rebecca asked. Riley stared blankly at her, her brain having picked up on none of what Rebecca had been saying.

“I’ll fill you in later,” Farkle whispered to her when he noticed the expression on her face. Riley hated being an open book sometimes.

“Let’s split into partners to get some ideas flowing for decorations. We’ll come back in five minutes. Alright, break!”

Riley and Farkle turned towards each other, both knowing they were going to be partners without having to ask.

“So, the theme is ‘winter’,” Farkle said cheekily. Riley stuck her tongue out at him.

“Up yours, Minkus.”

“Ms. Matthews,” he gasped, acting mock offended, “This is not appropriate conversation for the children.”

“You’re such a nerd! We need to be coming up with ideas, let’s go. We don’t wanna look like idealess losers.”

“Okay, okay, we can start brainstorming. I just have one question that you’re going to have to answer me honestly,” he said. Riley quirked her brow.

“Oh yeah?”

“Can you promise me we go to the winter formal together? I missed being able to be with you at the fall festival,” Farkle told her, and Riley felt the blood rush to her face.

This isn’t a date. He’s not asking you out on a date; you’re just friends! It’s a friend thing, and you’re going to be chaperones, Riley tried to convince herself.

“Of course I’ll go with you, Farkle. There isn’t anyone else I’d want to go with than you,” she said, groaning internally when she registered the weight of her words. It was too late to take them back, but it didn’t seem to matter because Farkle was beaming from her answer.

“I can’t wait,” he smiled, and Riley knew from that point forward that she was in too deep.

 //

 (x. the winter formal)

Riley signed up to help place all the decorations for the winter dance, so by the time she’s finished, she knows she’s gotta perform a miracle to get back on time. She has to return to her place, shower, get dressed, and apply her makeup all within the span of forty-five minutes. So she set a timer on her phone, painted a look of pure determination on her face, and took off like a rocket (while maintaining proper speed in order to avoid traffic violations.)

By some form of divine intervention, she accomplishes her goal with five minutes to spare. She zipped herself up inside her dress—an icy-blue, knee length dress with a semi-sweetheart neckline, spaghetti straps, and a shimmery, chiffon skirt—and slipped on her silver, strappy high heels, checking her makeup in the mirror one last time to make sure it was perfect. Her doorbell rang and she grabbed her crossbody purse, rushing off to answer the door.

“Hi,” she greeted Farkle happily as soon as she swung the door open. He looked very handsome in his navy-blue suit and silver tie and Riley felt her hands grow clammy.

This was starting to feel a lot like a date.

In fact, when she appeared in front of Farkle, his mouth dropped open as his eyes raked over her, and butterflies began fluttering around in her stomach at the notion of him checking her out.

“Uh, you look gorgeous,” he told her, Adam’s apple bobbing hard in his throat. He held a hand out to her, obviously trying to regain his cool (something she’s never known Farkle to have once in the entirety of her knowing him). “Ready to go?”

“Ready,” she nodded, grabbing his hand. His fingers laced with hers and she stepped out to shut and lock her door, following him down the hall and to his car afterward. They didn’t talk, but Riley didn’t mind it at all.

 They arrived at the dance ten minutes after it began (they really didn’t mean to; The Backstreet Boys started playing on the radio and they had to jam out to it!) Riley smiled at all their hard work once they made it inside the gymnasium, happy to see it balanced out by the soft glow of disco lights they had placed all around. Iridescent snowflakes dangled from the ceiling, twirling around and shimmering playfully. Everyone looked wonderful in their formal outfits, all paired with huge grins just from having fun being out and around one another.

“Looks fantastic, Riles,” Farkle told her, nudging her gently with his elbow.

“I mean, I didn’t do all of it,” she shrugged, bashful, but Farkle shook his head.

“You still helped it look amazing. Anything Riley Matthews sets her mind to always turns out incredible.”

Riley wanted to squeal from embarrassment and giddiness from the compliments he was giving her, but she remained calm, instead tugging him towards the refreshments table. She scooped a cup of punch for him and then herself, and then they both stood off to the side of the gym in their own little area partially sequestered from the rest of the teachers. They made sure to do their job being chaperones, of course (high schoolers had a real knack for getting too close too one another for her comfort), but they also enjoyed themselves. Riley appreciated getting to spend quality time with Farkle, and he always knew how to make her laugh.

Then a slow song came on, one Riley could only call an indie slow dance song, and Farkle turned toward her with a sparkle in his eye that she couldn’t forget if she tried.

“Wanna dance?” he asked, his eyes bluer than a sky on a cloudless day. Riley could hardly find the words to say yes, so she nodded and allowed him to draw her out to the dance floor amongst the rest of the teenagers. He laid his hands on her waist while she hooked her arms around his neck and they swayed together rhythmically, their eyes never leaving one another’s.

“I feel silly dancing among all these teenagers,” she laughed.

“Do you wanna stop?” he asked.

“That’s the last thing I wanna do right now, Farkle Minkus,” she told him, her words soft as they left her tongue. Somehow, they had shifted closer to one another, and Riley could the ghost of Farkle’s breath on her cheeks.

“What’s the first thing you wanna do then?”

“I wanna kiss you,” she confessed, her eyes darting down quickly to his lips and then back up to his gaze. She wasn’t sure what had made her so brave but she was certainly glad for it, relieved to get that thought off her chest finally. And then Farkle said something that surprised her more than anything.

“I wanna kiss you, too.”

“Then what are you waiting for? Get the girl, Minkus,” she whispered to him. Farkle grinned and then leaned in, hovering for a second before pressing his lips against hers.

Nothing could have prepared her for the feeling of kissing Farkle Minkus—it was like electricity coursing through her system, all of her neurons firing off in her head at once. His fingers reached up to cup her face, the warmth of his hands burning an imprint into her skin.

Finally, her heart sang.

“Oh my god!” someone screamed behind them, causing them to break apart. Riley peered over Farkle’s shoulder and saw Penny standing there, pure elation on her face.

“Oh no,” Riley groaned into Farkle’s chest, and she felt the vibrations of his chuckle against her skin.

“I can’t believe I won the bet!” Penny continued, grinning ear to ear. Riley shot her a look of surprise.

“Wait, you guessed we’d get together at the winter formal of all things?”

Penny shrugged.

“I’m a romantic at heart. I had a good feeling about it.”

“Well, congratulations, Penny, but do you mind?” Farkle said. Penny turned red, sputtering a goodbye as she left them on their own. Riley laughed at the ridiculousness of the entire situation.

“What even are our lives?”

“The best ones out there, I’d wager. If I didn’t take this job, I’d never have met you, Riley Matthews,” Farkle told her.

“And I’d never have met you, Farkle Minkus. Guess life has a funny way of making things work out in the end,” Riley said.

Farkle agreed with her by pulling her in for another kiss, and Riley couldn’t help but think she had the best life in the entire universe.

[generalwildcat]

High School Musical the Musical the Series

In a world full of reboots, remakes, and nextgens, it's almost refreshing to see something different. High School Musical the Musical the Series, or HSMTMTS (which is totally not a mouthful), takes the world of High School Musical and brings it into ours. While it would have been interesting to see a reboot of the series with the Wildcats' kids - and believe me, if you've followed my blog you know I've made WAY too many posts speculating and dreaming of it - I believe it will be equally interesting to see how current high schoolers take this movie and make it their own. High School Musical has come in the form of a concert, ice shows, actual high school musicals, and, of course, fanfictions. Here we get to see actual high schoolers bring the show to life over the course of ten episodes. Or rather, actors portraying actual high school students. While it would be near impossible to recreate the chemistry and magic the original Wildcats brought to the scene it's a bit early to tell if anything similar is in these Wildcats...or Leopards, if you go by STEM teacher Mr. Mazzara's logic. But then again, who would have guessed that after 13 years so much of the original HSM cast would still be in contact with each other. Personally, my one hope with this HSM reboot is the same as it would be if it were a Nextgen - that the friendship, supoprt, and magic lives on. That was one of the things that made HSM so amazing in the first place, was that the chemistry wasn't just between the characters but the actors as well. We were blessed to see that over the course of three movies, a concert tour, social media, each actors' personal lives, and the ten-year reunion. As far as the talent goes, this cast has it. As for the characters, if they can in any way match up to the originals they attempt to portray? Well, that's way too soon to say. It's only one episode. And while we've gotten to know quite a bit in these first 38 minutes of main characters Ricky and Nini, there have only been a few snippets to give us faint ideas of other characters such as Gina, Carlos, Kourtney, et al. Though there are certain vibes I get from certain characters they are not trying to recreate Troy, Gabriella, Sharpay, and the rest. I'm sorry, but in my opninion Chad is not Chad without Corbin Bleu's signature curls. That being said, I'm interested in seeing how this will play out. What HSMTMTS can do that HSM did not have as much a chance to do is shine a light on all the characters. Yes, each Wildcat throughout the movies had their moments but overall the movies were devoted to Troy, Gabriella and Sharpay, leaving us to resort to imagining the other characters as well as their relationships for ourselves. I will reserve my personal opinions about the characters for a potential future post. But for now, I can safely say that I was not disappointed with the pilot episode. Though I will continue to watch as a devoted fan, I will also be watching out of curiosity to see what happens, both with the play and the characters. And, of course, for the Easter Eggs (Easter Wildcats? Wild Eggs? Wildcat Easter Eggs? Actually, maybe there isn't a better word for it)! Easter Eggs 🐾13 years later and East High School still has the decoration gracing its cafeteria. 🐾As with Sharpay's signature pink locker. I envy every student that has had that since the first movie. 🐾Did Miss Jenn spend almost 2 hours before class sitting in her car watching the original HSM on her cell phone? Or was she just playing We're All in This Together to get her pumped for her first day? 🐾Carlos claims he's the resident HSM historian yet he only saw the first movie 37 times and the first 15 minutes of both sequels. Raise your hand if you know you watched all three movies (four if you count Sharpay's Fabulous Adventure) more than this guy. 🐾Cameos from Vanessa Hudgens and Zac Efron in the form of a screencap and a few precious seconds of Getcha Head in the Game. 🐾Pretty sure I overheard the beginnings of Sharpay and Ryan's exercises pre-auditions. 🐾As well as their falling back trust exercise during one of Miss Jenn's segments. 🐾"What spell has this elevated-IQ temptress girl cast that suddenly makes you want to be in a musical?" 🐾The Start of Something New. 🐾Shoutout to the Greatest Showman. More of a Zac Efron Easter Egg than a High School Musical one, but let us never forget the many memes that have spawned since its release about Troy Bolton running away to join the circus. 🐾Big Red's summary of High School Musical is that it's about Troy deciding whether to be to himself or his best friend Chad. Not totally wrong, seeing as how it wasn't just Chad that Troy felt forced to choose to be true to him being the Basketbal Guy and sticking to the status quo like the entire school wanted him to. But it's a hell of a lot better than simply stating it's a modern version of Romeo and Juliet that takes place in a high school! 🐾Ricky's summary of High School Musical is probably what everyone says now.... "It's about Zac Efron dancing with a basketball."

[thatscalledtoughlove]

Didn’t Want to Fall in Love - 3: Mr. Handsome Makes a Reappearance

“For the millionth time, I am fine!” Tony shot me a glare from the bar-stool he sat on, swatting my arms away when I tried to hug him. “If you tell anyone about what happened, I’ll kill you.”

         I sighed, setting a plate of French toast down in front of him. He stabbed it with his fork. I sighed again.

         “Look, if you want to talk about it, I’m here for you. You’re my platonic life-partner, remember?”

        His lips twitched, and I could tell he was trying his best not to smile. “Have you ever considered the two of us? Together? As in, an actual couple? Not that being your platonic life-partner isn’t amazing.”

         “Us? A couple? That would mean sharing a bed with you, and you hog the sheets. It would also require us to kiss and stuff. Ew.” He shoved me, and I laughed. “In all seriousness though, nah. I don’t even know why we kissed all those years ago.”

         “I’ve just been terrified at the thought of what happened to my uncle ever since I heard about the accident.” Tony’s playful grin faded away and he glanced at me. Some of his hair fell into his eyes and I pushed it back. “It’s crazy to think about how much one accident can change someone’s life. And now he’s got a granddaughter and he can’t even really play with her because of his condition and—I don’t know, it just weighs down on me.”

         I stood from my seat, pausing beside him, resting a hand on his bicep. “I’m sure good ole Uncle Will doesn’t want you to mourn over him all the time. Why don’t you give your cousin a call and see how things are going? I’m sure he’d like to have a conversation with you.”

         Tony shook his head, still poking at the food I’d made him instead of eating it. “I haven’t spoken to Mike since Ella was born almost three years ago. And with another one on the way, I’m sure he doesn’t have time to sit around and talk.”

         “Well, while you sit around and contemplate life, I’m off to school. Don’t skip your Asia Pacific Political Systems course again, do you hear me? You better not be here when I get back, Mr. International Business Major.”

        I patted him on the back, smiling at the annoyed look he shot my way. He shoved a piece of French toast in his mouth, speaking to me with his mouth still full. “Whatever you say, Mom. I could give you a ride if you want.”

        Unlike most people, I preferred to take public transportation. It gave me an opportunity to sit and think about life, daydream, or catch up on reading whenever I could. “It’s fine, I can take the bus. Text me when you’re leaving, okay? We can meet up after class and go to that café where the girl always is.”

         The bus was already packed full when I stepped on, forcing me to stand near the front for the entire half hour trip. I thanked the driver when I hit my stop, gripping the straps of my backpack as I walked from the bus stop to the entrance of my college. After my only class of the day, the sociology club had a meeting. It would be the first one I attended in months.

        My class focused on criminology. I found myself distracted during the lecture, aimlessly scrolling through social media news feeds. A local BookTuber I’d followed years ago popped up. He was now published, while also still having quite a bit of influence on YouTube. I’d even met him once in passing and hated to admit I’d fangirled a bit inside. Funny enough, he was also the best friend of Tony’s cousin’s wife. It really was a small world.

         An elbow nudged me in the ribs and I frowned, looking up from my phone to the front of the classroom, where Professor Jameson had her eyes trained on me. Without a word, she went back to teaching the lecture. Words weren’t necessary. I felt embarrassed enough from the look. The girl who sat beside me gave an apologetic smile for the earlier jab.

         As soon as Professor Jameson dismissed us, I ran from the room to the college cafeteria, where the sociology club meeting would take place. I almost had a heart attack when I saw the one person who sat at the meeting table. He’d never attended any meetings before.

         Mr. Handsome—Justin—shifted in his seat when our eyes met. I approached with caution, cursing myself for being over-dramatic at the banquet a few nights earlier. No doubt he would call me out on my behavior.

         “Hello, Isabelle. It’s nice to see you again.” He spoke with formality, iciness lacing his voice.

         I forced a smile. “Hi, Justin. How’ve you been?”

         “All right. What happened to you at the banquet?”

         Great. Straight to the point. I both admired and despised him for it.

         “Um, something came up. I had to run home. Quite literally.” Surprisingly, he smiled at this.

        Justin had a wonderful smile. Far more wonderful than Paul, who I still despised for making fun of my father’s decision to take my mother’s surname. He had messaged me on Tinder later that night, but I didn’t bother to answer. I deleted the app without hesitation.

          “It’s fine, I shouldn’t have asked you to leave the party with me. But I have to let you know that I wasn’t planning on making any moves. Honestly, it would be nice to have a friend instead of a relationship. I’m more focused on school right now.”

         Could it be? Had I ruined a potential friendship by running away?

        I finally took a seat beside him, the smile I gave genuine. And nervous. During my three years at college, I’d encountered plenty of people, though none of them ended up as permanent friends. Just classroom friendships. The same went for Tony, but he still kept in touch with our high school friends as well.

         “Would it be too late to consider being friends? I’m sorry I ran away from you.” Heat rushed to my face when he grinned, a light chuckle falling from his lips. I continued. “Honestly, the idea of love kind of puts me off. But I would love to be friends with you! The woman I saw in the bathroom said you were a perfect gentleman.”

         He grimaced. “That was actually my aunt. Well, we aren’t related by blood, but she’s been my mother’s best friend since childhood. Can I ask why you’re put off by the idea of love? You don’t have to answer, of course.”

        “No, no, it’s fine! I had this massive crush on a guy in high school, around my sophomore year, actually, and he turned out to be a total tool. Not only did he reject me hardcore when I gathered up the courage to admit that I loved him, but he also bullied my best friend all throughout high school. It only got worse when he found out we’d had a moment at a school dance.”

         Justin looked genuinely interested. “Seriously? Hmm. And what exactly does a moment mean? Is this best friend a guy?”

         “You would be correct, he’s a guy. Tony. And by moment, I mean we kind of kissed in front of a bunch of people. Well, no, not really. It was in a corner of the room. No one—Why are you looking at me like that?” I realized a second later that I’d divulged way too much information to him.

         Judging from the red in his cheeks, I guessed he wanted to laugh. “You aren’t the type of person who thrives on small talk, are you?”

         “Sorry, I’ve always preferred long conversations. Asking someone about the weather has never really excited me.”

        “I think that’s great. Hey, since we’ve decided to become friends, do you think you can tell me what your dream job is now?”

          I’d almost forgotten about that conversation. “Painter,” I said. “An art gallery owner if I can’t sell my own paintings. What about you?”

        He laughed. “I knew you weren’t paying attention on Saturday! My deepest secret is actually that I play violin. I wanted to be a famous violinist when I was younger. Clearly that never happened. I was by no means a child prodigy.”

         “You should let me hear your music sometime. I’m sure you’re great.” Considering I couldn’t even sing, let alone play a musical instrument, anyone would probably sound beautiful to my untrained ears. Still, the image of Mr. Handsome also being extremely gifted at music somehow fit.

         A deep blush stained his entire face, and Justin glanced around the room before leaning in closer. The rest of the sociology club would be here any minute now. “I have some recordings on my phone if you’d like to hear them. Promise you’ll keep this a secret between us?”

         I looked at him with wide eyes, nodding enthusiastically. The violin had always been one of my favorite instruments, right after the harp. He blushed even more, a grin spreading across his face as he pulled a pair of old-school headphones from his bag and plugged them into his phone. The sounds of the other people in the cafeteria faded away, replaced by a violin version of “Amazing Grace.”

         As the song drew to a close, I almost had to wipe away a few tears. Justin rolled his eyes when he saw that, but I could tell it meant a lot to him that I’d enjoyed listening.

         “What do ya think?” he asked, winding the headphones cord around his left hand. “Was it okay?”

         “Okay? That was amazing! No pun intended.” He chuckled, avoiding meeting my eyes. I leaned back in my chair. “Seriously, have you considered uploading yourself to YouTube? That’s the best way to get famous nowadays. The beauty of social media.”

         A few people I recognized from other meetings took a seat at the table, greeting us with toothy grins. I smiled back before turning my attention back to Justin. He seemed like a different person, shy and reserved instead of the confident and relaxed man he’d appeared to be at the banquet.

         “No, I’ve never thought of that. I’m not exactly the kind of guy people want to stare at on a screen for any amount of time.” He whispered this, eyeing the two girls who sat across from us.

         The idea that someone I’d called Mr. Handsome would think himself unattractive was ridiculous. “Trust me, a lot of girls would love to stare at you on a screen.”

        Before he could say anything else, the president of our club appeared. She spent the next forty-five minutes discussing volunteer opportunities with the members, urging anyone who had free time to dedicate it to helping out the community. We did all want to dedicate the next few decades of our lives to the people, after all. After the meeting ended, I jumped out of my seat and threw on my backpack. I had to run home and drop off my stuff before meeting Tony at the café.

          “Isabelle, wait!” Justin jogged to catch up to me, his honey-blond hair bouncing with every step he took. He was already gasping for air when he reached me. Kind of sad, considering we’d only crossed the one building, but I kept that thought to myself. “Would it be okay if we exchanged numbers? Sorry if I’m being a little straightforward, I just don’t know how else we’d keep in touch.”

         It always surprised me when someone asked for my number. “Yeah, sure. We should hang out some time. I actually think I really like you, Justin.”

        He smiled again. God, that smile must get him any girl he wanted. “Why thank you, Isabelle. I like you too. Enough to even forgive you for climbing out of a bathroom window to avoid me. I’m kidding,” he added when heat rushed to my face.

         “I promise I won’t run away like that again. You aren’t so bad, Mr. Handsome.”

        “Mr. Handsome?” But I’d already walked away. He called out to me and I laughed, turning around to face him but continuing to increase the distance between us. “What’s that supposed to mean, Isabelle?”

         A few people stared at us. “You’ll find out someday! And just call me Izzy!”

         “Until next time, Izzy!”

        I waved goodbye, the grin plastered on my face almost painful. After three years, I had finally made a friend. The happiness remained the rest of the day, growing when I met Tony outside of the main building. He gave a surprised laugh when I launched myself into his arms, wrapping my arms so tight around his neck he told me to stop before he suffocated.

         “Why are you so happy? Did you sneak off to the bar instead of going to class? If I have to go, then so do you, Iz.”

         “Oh, shut up! I made a new friend! Isn’t that great? And you’ll never guess who it is either.”

         Tony had to pry me off him, holding me at an arms distance with a raised eyebrow. “Who?”

        “The guy I ran away from at the banquet. I know, I know!” I frowned at the incredulous look he shot me. “Turns out he just wanted a friend, too. Ooh, and he’s also a violinist! I’m going to try to convince him to post a video to YouTube.”

         “Sounds like you had a rather eventful afternoon.” We started to walk down the sidewalk toward the parking lot, the horrible yellow Taurus standing out amongst the neutral shades of the surrounding vehicles.

         I shrugged, scratching my left arm. “Not really, just that one thing. How about you? Are you feeling better now?”

        He grunted as a response, sliding into the driver’s seat. I pursed my lips, wondering why the problem was now, but ignored it and climbed into the passenger seat.

         “Actually, no, I’m not feeling better,” Tony said as he started the car. “I hate what I’m studying with a passion. If I felt even a fraction of love for business instead of the passionate hate I feel for it, I would be unstoppable. But no, I would rather work at Starbucks than pursue business.”

          “Hey, don’t hate on the poor baristas! That job offers tons of benefits, you know.” He realized why I’d taken insult and looked over at me, a nervous grin pasted on his face. I’d been a barista for three years, only quitting my job a little more than a year and a half ago in favor of a summer receptionist job at my father’s own business.

        We were at the same spot Tony had almost hit Zack the Waiter when he spoke again. “So, what does this girl you mentioned look like? Is she there every single time?”

         “She has light brown hair, and yes, she is. She also checks you out every single time.” It wasn’t a lie, I’d seen her staring at his back whenever he ordered or glancing at his face whenever he walked by. A person would have to be blind not to see she had a massive crush.

         “Okay, time to keep up my end of the bargain.” Tony looked like he would rather retreat back to the apartment and check out his matches on the apps, but he still walked into the café without heading straight to the counter like usual.

        The girl sat in the corner of the room with a laptop on the table in front of her. She looked up when Tony and I entered, and their eyes locked for five whole seconds. I counted. Of course, she looked away first, the furious blush on her face making Justin’s look like a slight flush.

         Because Tony was…well, himself, he didn’t approach her. He decided to go and order his usual chilled hot chocolate instead, glancing at the girl while he waited for his drink. I tried not to snort. I ordered the same drink as Tony, smiling when he chose to take a seat close to this dreamer.

         We sat and talked for a bit before deciding it was time to head home. I met Tony’s eyes, silently yelling at him to talk to the girl, who also watched him. He shook his head, the movement so slight I just caught it. Sighing, I stood from my chair and headed to the exit.

         The unnamed girl watched us go, a flicker of disappointment shining in her eyes. She noticed me watching and her lips curved up in a subtle smile. I returned the smile, cursing Tony for deciding now was the time he would bail out on our deal.

         At least she seemed to forget about us a few seconds later, looking back at her computer and beginning to type away.

        “Are you serious?” I resisted the urge to smack him in the head when we got to the car. “Did you not see that? She was waiting for you to talk to her!”

         “She probably thinks we’re together, Izzy! Besides, why does the guy always have to make the first move? That’s bullshit.” He started the car, which sounded like it wouldn’t last much longer.

         I took a deep breath and released it in a long sigh. He did have a point, as much as I hated to admit it. Girls shouldn’t be afraid to strike up a conversation.

          “Let’s just go home and watch a movie or something. I’ll make dinner this time.” I didn’t want to make him feel worse than he already did. “What would you like to eat? Spaghetti? Tacos? A microwave dinner because that’s probably the best chance you have at getting a full meal?”

         His mood lifted, and he looked at me with a new grin. “Let’s go for tacos. No offense but your spaghetti sucks.”

         “Saying ‘no offense’ does not make it less offensive.”

        Tony shrugged, and we spent the rest of the ride home listening to violin covers of popular music. I set to work on dinner when we arrived at home while Tony walked around with his camera and took pictures of random areas of the apartment. He stopped a few feet away from me and told me to smile. I stuck my tongue out instead.

         “Are we going to watch another horror? I’m thinking Evil Dead. Not the original, but the remake. The one that actually attempts to be scary. Not that I don’t love the original.” He took his usual spot at the kitchen island, flipped through the pictures on his digital camera.

        “Yeah, sure.” I looked down at my phone on the counter beside the stove when a text came in. It was from Justin, asking if I planned on volunteering for any events for the sociology club.

         Tony raised an eyebrow when I turned back to him. “What’s that look for?”

         “Oh, nothing. I’m just happy that I made a new friend.”

         “Mhhm. Are you sure this isn’t going to develop into something more? You did tell me you called him Mr. Handsome.”

         “Positive.” He didn’t look like he believed me, but he left it alone.

        Tony could think whatever he wanted, I had no intention of developing any romantic feelings for Justin. He would be a new friend, and that was it. I texted back that I was considering it. Justin answered minutes later. For the first time in weeks, I feel asleep looking forward to going to school the next day.

         The only concern I had on my mind was Tony and the girl who had a crush at him from the café. But that could wait for another day. First thing was first: I had to delete all the dating apps from my phone without telling Tony. Then, I would do everything I could to get my best friend the relationship he deserved.

[ladycollegeguide-blog]

Establishing a Balanced College Life

A very intelligent man went by the name of Abraham Maslow. Maslow identified the five-tier hierarchy of needs that stated, in theory, that every human being has five different categories of needs that should be met to for an individual to feel fulfilled in life. This theory has been explained by using a triangle diagram and creating horizontal categories within the triangle to represent how each predeceasing tier has an impact on the following tier of needs, as seen in the picture below.

The special thing about the college hierarchy of needs is it encompasses internet as a necessity as well. Now obviously you do not actually need the internet to survive or feel fulfilled, but you certainly do in 21st century-college-land. All jokes aside, this hierarchy is essential in life and understanding your body’s needs is a very important aspect in college survival. The hierarchy flows in the following order: physiological needs, safety and security, social needs, esteem, and lastly, self-actualization. The rather comedic version of Maslow’s Hierarchy of needs, seen above, does a fairly effective job explaining which components go into the College Six-Tier Hierarchy of Needs. The important aspect is understanding that you possess all of these needs, and balancing them in college may be harder than ever before. Do not fear, though! There are so many healthy ways to help maintain a health, balanced lifestyle.

Let’s skip the internet tier, because obviously we can get the point there. The physiological tier relates to a human’s main necessities. This is difficult in college because your eating, drinking, sleeping, and possibly sexual needs will alter during this time. The cafeteria food is destined to be filled with fattening products because your campus is feeding massive amount of starving, poor, growing students. You can only enjoy salads for so many days in a row before you decide to jump in the hot-food line. Your tiny little microwave in your room can only do so much, and believe it or not, Ramen Noodles carry no nutritional value. For an 18-year old woman, this is a lot of change to occur in ones’ body in a rather short amount of time. In fact, a lot of concepts within Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs relate to the “Health Triangle,” which addresses mental, social and physical health. However, we’ll save that for later discussion in this week’s Survival Blog. The important aspect here is to anticipate these possible changes in your physiological needs. If you plan for this kind of change, you can allow yourself ample time to prevent unwanted change. For example, if your eating and drinking habits do indeed change, you can arrange a schedule to fit in more exercise. Most campuses will provide an on-site gym, utilize this! Your needs can be satisfied in so many ways when you engage in physical activity. Refer to last week’s blog on “Getting Involved” to find out how you can exercise and have fun while doing so!

The second tier to understand is “Safety and Security.” Now, for a great deal of us, we chose to move across state lines, or at least head a few hours in the opposite direction of home. If this is the case, you will likely not have the same safe and secure feelings you carried in your hometown. It was comfortable there, and you knew your city like the back of your hand. Understand that you somehow have to make yourself comfortable in your new area. Explore as much as possible during the daytime because this eliminates some confusion if you’re ever outside during the nighttime. You know that fancy looking pepper spray bottle your overly protective relative gave you when you graduated? USE IT. Hook that bad boy to your lanyard, because ladies, we need to eliminate risks in life. This is absolutely NOT meant to advise you to pepper spray just anyone. But creating a safe zone for yourself can help satisfy your need to feel safe and secure! To simply put things, always be aware of your surroundings and take care of yourself. A support system of friends also helps here. If being a brownie taught us ladies one thing, it is to always trust the buddy system.

If you keep up with any College Survival Kit blogs, you understand I fully support Social needs. This is the next tier of needs in Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs and I cannot begin to express how vital your social skills are during this time. The relationships you will build with your college peers are likely to be lifelong relationships. Seriously, there are countless studies that show that relationships built during this time are much more likely to last longer. Human interaction is huge, and we crave it when it hasn’t been met because we are so very preoccupied with responsibilities. In cases like this, take the extra ten minutes after class to talk to someone about anything. Have brief discussions with professors and peers if need be, but you need to maintain a fair amount of social interaction. Not only will this help you feel fulfilled with your social needs, it will allow you proper room to build relationships. Having these conversations with teachers’ assistants, professors, counselors, etc. allows you to build beneficial networking skills. You will be surprised with how beneficial it can be to become pals with your professors, because their connections are endless. Also, you never know when you’ll need a letter of recommendation, so fake it until you make it if you must!

Ladies, ladies, ladies. I cannot express the importance of this next tier enough. Your esteem is HUGE during your college years. This applies to your self-esteem, your sense of achievement, your confidence and so much more. Understand that there will be times in your college career where you will feel like you do not have it your life completely together. You might take a mental health day, fail an exam, miss a few workouts, the list continues. Please understand that you are still a hard-worker, who cares about their future and beauty shines far more from within. BE CONFIDENT. Understand that your worth is defined by who you are as a person and you are the only one who can truly define your character. The amount of progress and mental growth you will encounter during your college years in tremendous, so trust the process. Understand that you may not be where you want to be, but you’re working on where you want to go. Having this mentality will progressively increase the way you view yourself as a contributing, well-rounded member of society. You have worked so hard to even reach the point of attending a higher level of education, feel confident with that and continue working towards your goals. A healthy self-esteem will carry us young women very far in life.

The final tier in Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs applies to self-actualization, which entails your needs to be creative, problem solve, be authentic, and spontaneous. These needs are those that keep us in touch with the side of ourselves that not everyone sees at face value. When you come into college, you have likely already established the spontaneous, creative and authentic version of yourself. Whether you enjoy being crafty, reading a certain genre, taking spontaneous trips, etc., these needs often are a stress outlet. It is so very important to not lose sight of these needs when you move to college. If you come into college as a crafty person, try making time to still get involved with those crafts. I had a roommate who had a very strong urge to enroll in Art School prior to the college. Instead of pursuing this degree, she decided to enroll in the Business Program at a different university. Secure and content with her choice of business, she still designs canvases for home décor now. This is a prime example of how to meet your self-actualization needs while also maintaining a healthy well-rounded life style. As much as you are pursuing a higher education, take the appropriate amount of time to meet this tier’s needs because they contribute greatly to who you are as a person.

As promised earlier, I would discuss how Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs relates to the Health Triangle. This can be seen in several of the examples I provided that give you ladies some insight on what to expect in these upcoming years, but let’s go ahead and chat a little more.

Firstly, this triangle is primarily where the healthily balanced lifestyle comes from. At the root of each of these health elements is your ability to be able to meet and balance your needs in life. Obviously, your social health directly relates to your social needs. It also contributes to the safety and security tier of needs, though. Creating meaningful relationships with those around you provides you with more room to feel safe, secure and comfortable at your home away from home. Your physical health can also directly relate to several of your needs. Number one, physical activity releases endorphins, which offers the human body several benefits. The release of endorphins triggers positive feelings in the body and can be very useful for stress regulation! This can help fulfill your self-actualization and esteem needs. Your mental health may also see benefits from a satisfied physical health. Those endorphins we were discussing are great here. Statistically, women are more likely to suffer from mental health disorders like depression and anxiety. Thankfully more commonly discussed in our generation, there are many natural steps you can take to minimize some of these mental health symptoms. Physical activity has shown great signs of correlation when linked to mental health disorders. If you do currently suffer from some of these issues, understand that you are not alone. Maintaining a health mental state is vital during this time in your life, as women are most susceptible to mental health disorders from 18-22 years old.  This is not meant to instill fear into growing minds, rather to highlight that this is a common issue at this age and if you do not struggle with these symptoms, be understanding and compassionate with your peers that do. If you do encounter some symptoms, try finding positive outlets for anxiety and depression. If it worsens, believe that you are not alone and your campus will likely provide facilities to help channel negative energy elsewhere. In conclusion, finding ways to properly balance your life can feel time consuming when you get too busy in college. Do not ever lose sight of who you are and always keep your personal needs in sight. It is so easy to get consumed in college life chaos, but make sure you take time for yourself! Stay happy and stay tuned for more College Survival Kit tips next week. Peace and love, ladies. #MKT400UWL #CollegeGuide #CollegeSurvival #Freshman #CollegeGirls #LadyCollegeGuide #BalacingLife #LifeBalance

[gabriel-gabdiel]

【Draft】 Keit-AI! Tomoyuki x Seiko Chapter 22: The Dream Is Dead

Don’t let your dreams be dreams. DO IT!

The rest of the chapters of my original story based on a plot from 4chan are available here. Enjoy.

"You're doing what to impress Seiko?" asked AU Seiko Okamoto over the phone, the strength of her disbelief and incredulity able to travel across dimensions through the volume of her voice. "I mean, the other me?"

Tomoyuki Yamamoto couldn't believe that he revealed what he'd been up to so soon.

Especially after he kept his other plan—ruining Kazuhito Sugata's harem to force a resolution between the "Will they? Won't they?" relationship status between him and his universe's Seiko Okamoto—a secret from her.

But this time this was different. He had to tell her this. Because it was kind of her "fault" why he had to do this in the first place.

Her careless kindness struck his heart almost as hard as when he first fell in love with her other self, when she rescued him from his own bullies.

He tried explaining himself again. "I joined the Literature Club so that I can be more... creative. I want a creative outlet, Amazon Queen."

Dammit. Why was it that he couldn't convey into words what he was thinking?

"B-But what about your job at the convenience store?"

"It's not like I'm the manager or anything. I'm just a clerk. I can manage my time just fine even with after-school club activities."

"I... I didn't realize you were a writer, Cherry Boy," said the Amazon Queen quietly. "Well? Was the other me impressed at least?"

He shrugged even though Seiko couldn't see him do so over the phone. "She's still treating me like normal. She even congratulated me."

Seiko's treatment of him was certainly a nice change of pace from all the teasing he got from her because of Akira's recently exposed catfishing shenanigans.

"W-Wait, why would you even need to impress me? Also, how is that supposed to impress me? I mean, the other me!" said AU Seiko, which puzzled Tomoyuki himself. Why did she seem upset by all this?

Clearing his throat, he continued. "...I want to keep up with you," he said, practically repeating what he said to Megumi Minagata, the childhood friend of Seiko Okamoto and Kazuhito Sugata.

"...Are you an idiot?" she finally said after a minute of silence.

"HEY! Who are you calling an idiot? BAKA! (STUPID!)" he almost yelped in defense of himself, confused by the Amazon Queen's reaction.

What was going on? Why couldn't she understand him and why he was doing this?

"H-Hey, watch your... mouth, AU Cherry Boy!" she said, grasping for words like she'd grasp for flotsam from being swept up the rapids of her own turmoil. "I'm not picking a fight here!"

"Well, neither am I! But you called me an idiot first!" was the Cherry Boy's petulant response.

"Look, I called to thank you for helping me deal with both my Cherry Boy and Miku-chan. Again. As usual. I-I... only wanted to help you get AU Me the way you helped me with my Miku-chan. B-But... now you don't even seem to care about wooing the other me! Have you already given up on me? I mean, O-Okamoto S-Seiko? Jeez, that felt weird to say."

"I-It's not that... Y-You don't understand," he said, deflating like a balloon with a prolonged sigh. Lowering his guard down. "I'm doing this for me but I'm doing this for you too. I mean, for S-Seiko... Okamoto. For her too. You know what I mean."

She sighed long and hard herself. "No, Cherry Boy. No, I don't."

Why couldn't she understand that she was out of his league and that he didn't deserve her?

That he needed to be within her league or at least reaching towards it to feel confident about wooing her?

Or at least the other her that he could actually reach?

***

Keit-AI! Tomoyuki x Seiko

An Anime-Inspired Original Story from 4chan's /a/ Board by Abdiel

Original Idea by Hataki.

The other shoe drops.

Disclaimer: This work may reference copyrighted material, the use of which has not always been specifically authorized by the copyright owner. It is believed that this constitutes a fair use of any such copyrighted material as provided for in section 107 of the US Copyright Law. All copyrighted material referred to in this work belongs to their respective owners. All rights reserved.

***

Chapter 22: The Dream Is Dead

***

Back at the Maehara High cafeteria...

Class 2C Representative Aya Fubuki continued what felt like a police interrogation to Tomoyuki's ears.

"Why did you join the Literature Club?" she asked.

"Er... why do you ask?" he said in return.

"It'd be a shame if all that progress you made with Seiko-chan were to end up wasted because you were too busy with your li'l club and all." Aya smirked with half-lidded eyes, sipping daintily on her drink. "Consider me your devil's advocate."

'I consider you Satan herself! Ugh. Why is everyone nipping at my heels about wooing Seiko-chan? They should mind their own business. Even AU Seiko-chan,' Yamamoto thought with an inward scowl hidden behind a forced smile.

Did the 2C Class Rep still have a chip on her shoulder over the infamous Cherry Boy because of the bad first impression she got from him?

'First AU Seiko, now Fubuki. Yet just literally last year, people were also making fun of me for being too desperate in getting a girlfriend and being too clingy towards girls. Jeez, make up your damn minds!'

Deep down, a voice inside the Cherry Boy asked, 'Did you give up on wooing Okamoto Seiko after seeing how much in love with Sugata Kazuhito she is, like Fubuki is implying?'

The name of that voice? Insecurity.

He nonetheless answered both his insecurity and Aya,

"It's not a li'l club and I didn't join it for shits and giggles. I love movies. I also love writing and reading stories. Or watching them on the big screen. I kind of want to write one of my own, if I could. You know, because it's my dream to do so."

"And he's actually pretty good at writing too. Even our club advisor is impressed by his works," said Miku Machida in his defense.

Tomoyuki was half-flattered but also half-unsure of the sincerity of the praise. Not because Miku was a dishonest person but instead because she was probably just being nice. Nice to a fault, perhaps.

Her niceness was what led him to also chase after her during their first year, only for him to get friendzoned hard by her.

Lesson learned. A nice girl wasn't just nice to a particular boy because she liked him. She was nice to him because she was nice to everyone.

"Come to think of it, isn't the Literature Club supposed to be a book club where you just read books all day? Like it's the Library Club or something?" asked Yukari Goto with a finger on her lip and a head tilt to the side.

"W-ell, technically we are, but ever since Miss Kitamura became our club advisor, we started making essays and creative writing projects too," Machida explained.

"Oh, is that so?" said Yukari, who now had her arms spread like a restless child mimicking an airplane's wingspan, her body tilting from side to side.

'What the hell is this goofball doing?' thought Tomoyuki as he just stared at Goto.

"Why don't you write a love story about Seiko-chan then, Yamamoto-kun? Or maybe even dedicate a poem? Make good use of your talents," Aya kept pressing the issue. "Actually, it seems like you've been avoiding her more and more lately. Would you rather spend time with Miku-chan instead? If you chase two rabbits you'll lose them both."

"W-What are you saying, Aya-chan?" stuttered the glasses-wearing class rep. She probably still remembered the Cherry Boy's embarrassing fake love confession to her that he did in order to help Fubuki save face from her own failed love confession to Kazuhito.

Come to think of it, he kind of was avoiding Seiko though. He still couldn't look her in the eye after they were both photographed by Akira in such a compromising, suggestive position. In a love hotel of all places, at that.

There was also the time when the Amazon Queen acted angry (perhaps jealous?) when she heard the recording of his fake confession to Miku. Also recently, Okamoto told him that he always found a way to say the right things to her.

The last one made his pulse quicken and cheeks flush red in remembrance.

He then told himself to not be presumptuous about Okamoto's reaction the same way he used to overthink Machida's embarrassed reactions towards him, when in fact the mousy nerd was merely being either friendly with him of scared of him and his desperation for a girlfriend.

Nevertheless, he countered, "I don't want to be clingy around Okamoto. I learned my lesson the last time."

Fubuki chuckled, crossed her arms, and smirked. "You're not just using this club thing as an excuse to run away from her, are you? You coward. She intimidated you so bad back in that Sports Fest volleyball tournament that you don't feel worthy of being in her presence. Am I right?"

She actually hit the nail right on the head. No that he'd ever admit it to her face.

"Well, thank you for filling me in on my intentions, Fubuki!" he answered, standing... or rather, sitting... his ground. "Besides, I don't want to be called her stalker or anything by overstaying my welcome when I'm around her. You should know what that's like, right?"

'Or maybe it's much harder winning over a version of Seiko-chan that isn't already in love with you? Or rather, another version of you!' his own insecurity further needled. Like a pinprick to his heart.

"Hey," Aya's brows furrowed, grabbing the edges of the table and looking like she was about to rise from her seat. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Hey, you two! Don't fight!" said Yukari with her hands raised up in seeming surrender. "You just made up recently so don't ruin it!"

"WE'RE NOT FIGHTING!" Tomoyuki and Aya chorused in a way that belied their denial.

Fubuki took a deep breath and sighed. "I'm not trying to pick a fight."

Yamamoto himself exhaled, sinking back down on his seat. "Neither am I."

Even after their misunderstanding regarding the rumors of them dating was cleared (he actually dated Aya's brother in disguise, not her), he and Aya still couldn't see eye-to-eye. It must be a personality clash then.

Regardless, he looked Aya in the eye and said, "I'm not running away either. I won't lose this fight the way I helped our class lose the volleyball finals at the sports fest. Understand?"

"Hey, I won an event there!" said Yukari in remembrance. "We were first place in the three-legged race, right? Aya-chan?"

"Fine. If it's really your dream to make movies or write stories or whatever, good on you," Fubuki relented, which made Goto remark, "Oh, I'm being ignored, huh?"

The 2C Class Rep then teased, "A certain little bird told me that you're much more romantic that people give you credit for, so I expected more from you when it came to Seiko-chan. I hear you're quite the gentleman when you try your hardest. You do your research and try to learn more about a woman's likes and interests even if you yourself have zero interest in those hobbies. You're very dedicated."

"GEH!" Tomoyuki yelped and pointed but the words he intended to say got caught in his throat lest he incriminated himself, his other hand covering his agape mouth.

Aya was talking about her snitch of a crossdressing brother, Akira, wasn't she?

Yamamoto didn't want to reveal or confirm that Akira catfished him to more people. He had no answer to that one.

However, apparently the same Akira had already confessed his crime of catfishing Yamamoto by pretending to be his own big sister to his own big sister! He even told her all the dates they went on! The long talks they had! The embarrassing things he told her, er, him!

'Don't make such a happy face,' he thought, not said, to the giggling Class 2C Rep, whose hand covered her own mouth. 'You're enjoying this too much, Fubuki! You're swaying so much that you might hit the table with your shin, you sadist!'

"Jeez, stop teasing Cherry-kun, Aya-chan!" said Goto with a pout and a wagging finger. "If you keep doing that I'll get mad!"

"Oh, and what will happen when you get mad?" Aya asked with an eyebrow raised. "Will you whip your twin ponytails back and forth and hit my face with it?"

Tomoyuki then thought, 'Oh, so she did that stupid technique before on someone else, huh?'

"Then I'll... I'll... I'll cry!" said Yukari.

"You don't say. Sure you will. And water is wet," remarked Fubuki to the crybaby, nonplussed.

"Actually," began Machida, unable to help herself, "Water isn't wet. Wetness is a description of our experience of water; what happens to us when we come into contact with water in such a way that it impinges on our state of being. We, or our possessions, 'get wet'. Not water."

"...." said everyone.

"...What?" the bespectacled girl asked with a double blink.

"How can water not be wet?!" said Aya. "It's water! It's surrounded by water. Anything that's surrounded by water, even water, is wet! You've been hanging out with Yukari-chan too much, Miku-chan! Next you'll say the sky isn't blue!"

"Not at sunset, dawn, or night. Or when it's rainy. The sky doesn't even have one particular color," pointed out Yukari matter-of-factly.

"Case in point!" said Aya. "You're both insane!"

'What is this conversation even?' thought Yamamoto.

Goto's eyes welled up.

"DON'T ACTUALLY CRY! Jeez," said Aya.

"You're being mean, Aya-chan! Aren't we supposed to be best friends?" said Yukari.

Fubuki raised an eyebrow at Yukari. "Wait, wait, wait. Since when were we ever best friends? Don't decide that on your own!"

"We aren't?" a tearful Goto asked. "B-But you keep fetching me at the front gates of the school! I always keep waiting for you at the same time every day since we're beeest fweeends!"

"You're not supposed to wait for me around that time! You're supposed to get to class on time!" Fubuki scolded, hitting the twin-tailed girl square on the noggin with a karate chop across the table.

"Owie! Aya-chaan! That hurt!" cried the klutz.

"Besides, it's not as if I was waiting for you at the gates every day! I was just doing my job to prevent delinquency in our class like a good iincho (class representative)!"

'What a tsundere,' thought Yamamoto.

***

Well, that was an interesting lunchtime.

Yamamoto walked back to class, leaving behind Machida to chat away with her friends from Class 2C, Fubuki and Goto, about whether water really was wet or whether the sky really was blue.

Seriously, she managed to bring up some good points.

As usual, in the background, he expected shenanigans afoot with the Official Class 2B Couple of Seiko Okamoto and Kazuhito Sugata, bickering about whatever.

With him not any closer to breaking the Golden Pair apart.

"DT-kun! DT-KUN!" he heard Seiko yell. Huh. Must be a new nickname she gave Sugata. They had all sorts of pet names for each other by then. Amazon Queen. Yankee. Furyou (Delinquent). Okama (Effeminate Gay Man).

Actually, the two of them both called each other okama for different reasons. Kazuhito was called that as an insult to his manhood. Seiko was called that to imply she was practically a man in a dress.

They weren't exactly politically correct, after all.

Meanwhile, Tomoyuki's half-baked harem elimination plan had ended up in shambles too. He got assaulted by Sugata himself after doing a fake confession to prevent a real confession by Aya.

He then wasted time with Aya's crossdressing brother that didn't even have anything to do with the harem plan. For selfish, personal reasons.

Maybe he had given up on Seiko by joining the Literature Club after all. Perhaps deep down in his heart, he realized he really didn't deserve Okamoto, as Aya claimed he thought.

Perhaps talking to another version of Okamoto and helping her end up with the other version of himself was as good as it would get for him. At least there was one dimension where the two of them would end up together.

He then felt the world blur around him as something grabbed hold of his collar and jerked him towards the stairs.

The next thing he knew, he was backed into a corner, with Seiko Okamoto of all people having her hand slammed on the same wall, right beside his face, cornering him and keeping him from escaping.

Wow. She was such an ikemen (hunk). Or at least the girl version of such. An Alpha Female.

If the genders were reversed, this situation of theirs would totally look like the cover to a girl's romance manga. Or if both genders were male, then it'd totally look like one of those yaoi (boy's love) manga that Machida read in secret.

"DT-kun! I've been calling you all this time!" said the tall, pony-tailed tomboy that had been running in his mind. "I haven't been seeing you around lately. Something up?"

"D-DT-kun...?" he stuttered. 'Wait, I'm DT-kun?!' he also thought to himself.

"No, no. Not DDT-kun. You're not giving out DDTs like Jake 'The Snake' Roberts, after all! R.I.P. to him, by the way. It's your new nickname! DT-kun!" she explained, which somehow confused him more, thus defeating the purpose of her explanation.

He vaguely remembered AU Seiko also telling him that the front facelock or inverted headlock driver was innovated by a western wrestler from the Eighties. The seeming acronym didn't actually stand for anything specific, but it was named after a pesticide.

"What does DT mean anyway? Dimension Transfer?" he then asked, half-joking and half-bewildered.

"No, no. It's doutei (virgin)!"

He almost face-faulted to the ground after hearing that. "That's just another way of saying Cherry Boy! Amazon Queen no baka (You stupid Amazon Queen)!"

Seiko then burst out laughing, with tears in her eyes. She was in stitches, leaning on the wall and clutching her stomach in laughter.

"You sure are proud of your joke," he said.

"I-It's the best!" she said, wiping the tears at the corners of her eyes.

Oh God, she was so cute.

"Oh, by the way, I wasn't able to give you a gift for your birthday a few weeks ago," said Seiko. "What do you want for your birthday?"

"You already gave me a lunch date," he pointed out.

"We do that every lunch except as of late," she refuted. "That doesn't count."

Agh. Wasn't that the most "Seiko" thing he heard her say or do. Aside from cluelessly handing him the best present he could possibly get in an offhanded manner, of course. Just ask him what he wanted.

He remembered that he gave her the impression that he wanted a date from her for his birthday. Maybe he should cash in that rain check?

No, no. He shouldn't push his luck. He actually hoped she forgot all about it since it sounded skeevy in retrospect. What sort of creep would ask their crush for a date as their birthday gift?

He then figured out what to answer. "Give me something you like."

"Huh. But you're not remotely interested in sports things. What would you want with sneakers or a boxing DVD?" she asked after considering his response for a minute or two.

He smiled and shrugged at her. "I guess, but I want to know more about you and a gift you like will tell me more about you."

Seiko's cheeks flushed before she smacked Tomoyuki upside the head.

"OW! HEY! What was that for?"

"Stop acting so corny, DT-kun! Jeez!" she said, leaving in a huff back to their classroom.

"Fine, I'm corny! But just call me Cherry Boy instead! That's somehow less embarrassing that Doutei-kun!" he called out after her.

"FINE! You're Cherry Boy again!" she called out as she retreated from him with her long ponytail sashaying from behind her, not bothering to look back at him again.

Normally, he'd interpret her reaction as her being mad, but he knew better now. Okamoto actually found his answer charming or even romantic. He got the answer straight from the source, after all.

He already tried out his "pick-up line" on AU Seiko when she herself asked straightforwardly what he wanted for a birthday gift before getting creative about it.

She also told him to stop being so corny but she actually loved it.

Nonetheless, he felt guilty for knowing what to say to her question in advance though. He'd already had a speculative or conjectural discussion with AU Seiko about what she would've done had she not figured out what Tomoyuki wanted for his birthday.

These other-dimensional shenanigans were a bit unfair, really. Like getting the answer key to a test and scoring high not by hard work but by cheating.

"DT-kun, huh?" he murmured to himself before wishing he could smack himself upside the head. 'DT-kun is so much cooler a nickname than Cherry Boy! Most people don't even know what it means till you ask! Why did I tell her to call me Cherry Boy instead? Stupid!'

After dismissal time though, she ended up giving him an MMA DVD collection. It was Fedor Emelianenko's greatest hits, with his fight against Brock Lesnar as the main attraction.

How very "Seiko" of her to do so. Oh, and she said she wasn't sure if her sneakers could fit his feet.

Huh. Maybe AU Seiko would appreciate the video clips he could record from this gift he got.

***

The first few days of working at the Literature Club went great for Tomoyuki. Swimmingly well. No complaints.

It reminded him of the happier days of his youth, before he got into a fight with his junior and got socked in the face by him for his troubles.

Or before he embarrassed himself on stage by crying multiple times as a kid when he was asked to recite a poem or play the role of a tiger for a school play. But never mind his childhood trauma.

Actually, he was like a kid "scenario writer" back in the day.

Whenever he had playmates in school, he would "direct" and make stories with them so that when they played pretend as superheroes, ninjas, samurais, pirates, monsters, or whatever else, they could depend on him to set up some sort of scene.

It was through such things that he got his first pieces of praise, which to an attention-starved, socially awkward kid with few friends was like an oasis in the desert.

Because it was one of the few things he was praised for as a child, he started becoming really interested in making up stories in his head or continuing stories from television shows he watched so that even after it had long concluded, he could have the show continue in his mind.

He'd made and lost friends from writing and making stories or proposing ideas for movies. So much so that when he hit puberty, he abandoned such childish dreams yet longed for a Hollywood-style romance with the way he unrealistically chased and wooed over girls using clichés found in romantic comedies.

Or at least in retrospect, that was what he viewed had happened. He wasn't so self-aware when he got rejected over and over by girls one after the other through his clingy, disgusting ways.

However, once he stopped being the newbie of the class and Miss Kitamura took her kid gloves off and became more critical of his writing, it was when his doubts started to surface.

Little things started to happen that chipped away at his fragile ego. Trivial issues by themselves but they stuck out in his mind all the same.

For example, when making a simple short story about a millionaire playboy falling for an ordinary secretary (something straight out of a romance novel, even), even though he wrote with the correct structure in mind, he still got criticized.

"The story is fine, Yamamoto-kun," Miss Kitamura said, "But isn't it a bit... heavy in the middle? Your pacing needs work. A story, even a short story, should have proper structure. We discussed this in class, remember?"

"But I followed the structure," Yamamoto said. It's Thesis, Antithesis, and Synthesis, right?"

"Whoa. When did I teach you that?" she asked.

"...I-I learned it from the Internet," he admitted. "It's the structure Hollywood movies use. I mean, even foreign literature uses it. It's universal. Isn't it the same for Japan?"

"No, no. It's not supposed to be a three-act structure like in overseas works. Here in Asia, such as Japan, China, and Korea, it's supposed to be Kishotenketsu, or the four-act structure."

'Kishotenketsu?' he thought to himself. If Machida were here with him, she'd joke that it sounded like a special attack in shonen (boy's) manga like Dragon Ball or something. Then she'd explain what it meant.

"Ki is the introduction. Sho is the development. Ten is the twist. Ketsu is the conclusion. It's Kishotenketsu altogether," Miss Kitamura herself broke down the individual meaning of each character. "You're missing the Sho and Ten parts, mixing it up with the Ki."

He scratched the back of his head and shook his head, his eyebrows furrowed. "But isn't that the same thing, sensei?" he argued. "Just bring Ki and Sho together, Ten will serve as the Antithesis or conflict then Ketsu is the Synthesis or conclusion."

"But it's not exactly the same, Yamamoto-kun," insisted his club advisor. "The third act of a Kishotenketsu story is a complication but not a conflict. You must watch a lot of western films to follow their structure by heart, but the Hollywood audience is used to central conflicts that are supposed to be defeated every time. Sho isn't a conflict but a twist. Do you understand?"

"A story without conflict? I never even heard of it!" he complained. "All stories have conflicts! Life is defined by conflicts and resolving them!"

Kitamura riposted, "Hmmm? But you more than any student here have watched all sorts of movies. Surely you've gotten to see the same conflict-free structure in Japanese media."

"But we've covered western books and stories, so it's okay to mix it up and use their structures, right? If Shakespeare and Hemingway can use it, why not students, even if they're Japanese?"

He was about to go on a rant about how rejecting western influence and culture was what kept Japan from technologically progressing during its isolationist period, but his teacher popped his ballooning ego with pinprick precision.

"It's okay to use it, but you're not exactly Shakespeare or Hemingway... Right, Yamamoto-kun? Please use what's been taught to you. You can experiment on other forms later if you want once you get control of your stories' pacing."

"But...!" he said before trailing off, his shoulders slumping down before he bowed at his teacher altogether. "Yes'm. Thank you for the feedback."

When he got back to his seat and discussed what had happened to Machida, the Walking Encyclopedia of Class 2B shared, "Huh. Well, maybe you should've used the eastern three-act structure. Johakyu."

"Eeeh? So I should've said I used Joha-whatever instead?"

"Well, even though they're both three-act structures, Johakyu does conclusions more abruptly than western works, which are more methodical and slower paced. And it's an assignment where we have to use what was taught to us."

As his so-called best friend explained what Johakyu or Jo-Ha-Kyu (literally Beginning, Break, and Rapid) meant, how it originated in Noh Theater, and had applications in martial arts, he placed his face on his desk and covered his head with his crossed arms.

Even Miku herself wouldn't defend him from Miss Kitamura's criticisms, huh?

In fact, the class rep even confirmed that movies like "Kiki's Delivery Service" by the anime maestro Hayao Miyazaki did indeed use the Kishotenketsu four-act structure.

***

He also got to read some of the works of his fellow writers in class. Whether it was to compare notes and techniques or as an assignment to learn how to critique the works of others, Tomoyuki had his fill of amateur stories written by his peers. Many of whom were strangers.

For the longest time, he only had Miku Machida to talk to in class.

This was the same case as in Class 2B, actually. It took some time for him to even muster the courage to talk to the intimidating, larger-than-life Seiko Okamoto on top of him having to deal with his bullies from first year ending up in the same class with him as second year.

Even now, in Class 2B, he still had issues talking to people outside of the Seiko, Miku, and Kazuhito clique.

He was just glad he got into a clique in the first place after being thought of by most of his classmates, especially the girls, as a desperate woman-chasing stalker creep with social anxiety.

Even until now, he didn't really think he deserved Seiko's love, whether it was in this dimension or a parallel one. She was out of his league. He even had a sneaking suspicion that even her heartthrob childhood friend thought the same thing.

She shone so bright that those around her couldn't help but either be intimidated by her or want to be like her. A free spirit or muse that inspired others to become the best they could be.

How could anyone live up to such a strong personality? His answer was simple.

They needed to change themselves to keep up with the shining light that was Okamoto or else they'd end up being swallowed by the darkness of their own jealousy (feeling like Seiko was taking away their dignity and pride by merely existing and being better than them) or envy (wanting the awesomeness of the Amazon Queen for themselves).

The difference between envy and jealousy was that envy was about wanting something you didn't have.

So he was envious, not jealous, of Seiko.

With the way he was now, the woman that he loved the most in two worlds also elicited other emotions in him that made him feel ashamed of himself.

Whoever heard of a lover who was envious of his beloved for merely existing and being her awesome anyway?

Anyway, the stories his classmates wrote ranged from okay to amazing. Few were outright terrible. Sure, there were stories he couldn't care less about, but that was a matter of taste. All of them, from his point of view, put in a lot of effort in writing their amateur yet well-constructed stories.

The ones who could really make a story though, they were jaw-droppingly amazing.

It was hard to explain in words but if they were writing his thoughts down they'd come up with paragraphs of an engaging narrative far better than he could, as though capturing the human spirit in a few words the way a good image or picture was even better than a thousand or million words.

It particularly hurt his pride whenever they excelled in the tests, quizzes, seatwork, and homework given to them by Miss Kitamura while he himself floundered here and there despite getting high praise initially when he first joined the club.

There was also the fact that he could barely keep up with reading the litany of books that they were supposed to learn from when writing. Ironically, he joined the club mainly after finding out they included written exercises on top of merely reading and studying literature.

The ones that joined the club from the start, especially the second and third years, were used to the version of the club where they mostly talked about, analyzed, and reviewed books.

They also had an almost elitist feel to them when discussing the film versions of books. They had all sorts of complaints about how many films missed the point of the books or made unnecessary changes to them even as little ol' him knew most of his literature knowledge by their movie versions.

A third year girl in his class had actually giggled at one of his works and remarked to herself, "Heh. What is this? It reads like fan fiction."

She of course quickly apologized and said she didn't mean what she said in a bad way. And maybe she didn't. But the damage was done.

Regardless, he still persevered and took her criticism to heart. Took it like a challenge, even.

Like an "I'll show her!" kind of feeling in his chest. But only half of him thought that way. The other half instead thought, "What's the point in doing this and embarrassing myself further?"

His insecurity's voice just grew louder and louder still, drowning out his confidence's own pleas that sounded more and more like lies.

Regardless, he didn't give up writing even as that particularly ego-blowing critique had him miss a class or two of the Literature Club.

***

The continuation of the conversation between Tomoyuki and AU Seiko (or in her point of view, AU Tomoyuki and Seiko) when he revealed that he joined the Literature Club...

"Okay, you want to know why I joined the Literature Club? Why I thought that would impress you?" he asked in an unintentionally aggressive way.

"Yes. Why? Why do you think you need to impress me?" AU Seiko asked back, forgetting she was referring to her other self in his dimension.

"Why did you fall in love with Yamamoto Tomoyuki?" he also "answered" her question with his own question.

"Why? Well, because he's nice. Friendly. He's always there for me. He's loyal. I can trust him and he'd never betray me," she said before telling Tomoyuki, "Sure, you can be moody or overdramatic, but those are also things I like about you! This is why I can't stand the thought of you trying so hard to change yourself! You don't need to! The other Seiko will like you just the way you are!"

"But think about it. When did you fall in love with my other self?" asked Yamamoto with a sigh and in a tired monotone. "Wasn't it after Sugata dumped you for Minagata?"

"...."

"...I'm sorry for saying something so hurtful," he apologized to the void of silence before them as vast as the dimensional rift between their two worlds, struggling to find the right words to say and convey his motivations to her before she even attempted to end the call.

He hoped she'd hear him out.

"However, it's true. You wouldn't have even noticed my other self had Sugata ended up choosing you instead of Minagata. I don't want to be your consolation prize after failing to get Sugata. I want to be the best I could be so that you'd choose me over him. I want to shine as bright as you would, living life to the fullest like you. You're the essence of carpe diem. I want to be worthy of you because you're out of my league but that's not stopping me from wanting to be with you, or at least another you that I can actually reach. I don't want to be a lottery winner. I want to be a self-made man."

He took a deep breath, not realizing he'd been holding it in all this time as he poured his heart out to the silent Okamato, begging her to understand him and his actions.

After what seemed like forever, she said, "...Baka," before hanging up.

They didn't speak to each other for many days after that mini-argument.

However, they soon forgave and forgot afterwards, apologizing to each other for the mishap.

On one hand, they couldn't stay mad at each other forever.

On the other hand, the topic of Tomoyuki's new club membership and how he was using it to impress the Seiko of his world somehow never came up again.

Or maybe they both avoided it, like the elephant in the room.

***

Regardless, more weeks passed. Before the summer vacation came about, he kept on writing. Kept on creating. Kept on improving the best he could. Weeks turned to months.

He didn't feel like he had improved his writing ability all that much.

He tried out Kishotenketsu as Miss Kitamura taught it, but found his writing awkward and forced to read back since he had forever followed the apparently more western three-act structure instead.

He thought that that was the standard of composing stories, even to the point of seeing it in Japanese writing and folktales that in reality had used Kishotenketsu, Johakyu, Hadouken, Tatsumaki Senpuu Kyaku, or whatever.

He lagged behind classmates who were used to the Japanese writing style or read mostly Japanese literature.

Every now and again, he could write up a worthwhile short story or essay that even Miss Kitamura would praise him for by cheating the system and claiming it was using the similar three-act Johakyu structure.

However, for the most part his writing was riddled with errors, plot holes, plot contrivances, and inconsistent characterization that his fellow club members criticized to impunity.

Yes, they were tasked to critique each other's work to "learn from each other" every time.

Nevertheless, he persevered with the club work. Wishing to grow. Wanting to be better than what he was before. Needing to be like Seiko Okamoto, who kept pushing herself to higher boundaries so that she remained above and beyond those before her. Or better than she was yesterday.

But people didn't change that easily. His so-called talent could only take him so far.

He kept attending the club even as he saw his club classmates in the same year as he was or even several freshmen excel in weaving yarns far more complex than the simple ones he made that one of them had described as "fan fiction".

He remembered submitting many of his fresh new fountain of short stories and story ideas to the Drama Club when they held a contest for students from the Literature Club to submit such.

They were specifically looking for original manuscripts they could use for their next big play made by actual students instead of adapting existing plays from William Shakespeare or stories from Meiji Era novelists like Mori Ogai and Natsume Soseki.

Rather than pore through tomes of plays or just do Romeo and Juliet for the umpteenth time, they decided to use other resources available to them as an interclub activity. The reward? High grades, of course. Nothing monetary, they were only poor students.

Tomoyuki had several stories in mind that he could easily adapt into script form for the Drama Club to perform.

All of them were rejected one after another as either incomplete or badly written. None of them clicked with the Drama Club even as he scrambled for a plot or idea he'd come up with to turn into a play with stage directions and whatnot.

However, one of them came through and was optioned for use in the Drama Club.

The one he based off of the trailer of the "nonexistent" film Ran by his idol, Akira Kurosawa.

The one he "plagiarized" and turned into a manuscript.

He had AU Seiko send him screenshots of the movie and the more he saw, the more intrigued he got. She even relented and sent him a Wikipedia (her universe's version of Encyclopedia Britannica Online) article summarizing the plot of the movie.

He was so inspired by all this wealth of information about a movie that didn't exist in his universe that he submitted his condensed version of the screenplay (or stage play) of Ran to the Drama Club contest.

In his world, information about the unfinished Kurosawa film Ran was sparse and he only really had that trailer AU Seiko sent him to go by, but he managed to bug her to send him a synopsis of the story care of a series of website screenshots, which he saved on his computer and pored over as the basis for his submission.

He even got to see other clips and photos from the finished film, which "inspired" him to write his own version or "treatment" of the story.

He should've been happy for finally having his hard work pay off, but the only time he was able to win people over was through someone else's work. Akira Kurosawa's work, to be exact.

How pathetic could he get?

It was like having an artist trace the exact work and pose of another artist's work and claiming it to be his own because he made a few changes in coloring, posing, or facial expressions.

It was simply art theft. Or getting credit for something he didn't deserve to get credit for.

He blinked back tears that pelted his letter of congratulations like pebbles aimed at his back by bored bullies, the ink running and bleeding on the page like mascara from a crying whore.

What was he doing all this nonsense for anyway? What was the point? What would he get out of being in the Literature Club?

Seiko didn't even care about his writing improvements one way or another, right? Neither version of her did.

There were plenty of people in his club who were far superior to him when it came to writing that whittled away his passion for it. What was the point of writing a half-baked story when others could easily make the same story ten times better than him?

Or make original stories, at that?

Especially Miku, who could write anything from prose to poetry with a humorous tinge to it that made you question if she really did write her varied works (in a good way, not in a plagiarist way as in the case with him).

He then remembered why he did all this.

He did it to impress Seiko, who honestly couldn't care less about it and merely patted him on the back, saying, "Good for you!" when she learned he had joined a club.

At any rate, enough was enough. This farce had gone on for too long. He knew what he had to do.

***

Days after Yamamoto caught wind of the "good news" that his entry for the Drama Club's contest got selected as the winner...

"YOU'RE QUITTING THE LITERATURE CLUB?" screamed AU Seiko to the point of making the audio from Tomoyuki's phone crackle and pop, which surprised him.

"Yeah," he answered, taken aback by how extreme her reaction was to his "good" news.

Wasn't this what she wanted? Didn't she want him to quit the Literature Club and "stay the way he is" or something? Women didn't know what they wanted!

She was never a fan of him ending up in that stupid club anyway, so why did she sound so distressed now?

'I can never figure out women,' he thought. Even tomboys who acted boyish were still women deep down inside, with whimsical, impulsive minds to match even the girliest of girls.

Besides, none of what he did actually helped in impressing the Seiko in his world in the least. Okamoto still had eyes for Sugata and Sugata alone.

'W-Why, Yamamoto-kun...? Why are you quitting? You were doing so good! You were improving with your writing, a-and everyone...!'

Or that was what he imagined Miku would tell him. What he wished she'd say. However, she never said any of that. He didn't really improve his writing in the least.

Not even his so-called best friend could say such things with a straight face.

Not at this point anyway, in light of last month's events. They couldn't even keep eye contact with each other at this point. But that was an issue for another day.

Besides which, none of those things he wished had happened actually happened.

After a promising start and high marks from his club entrance exam, he had nothing to show for in his months with the club save for contempt from his fellow clubmates, disappointment from Miss Kitamura, and rejection after rejection from the Drama Club and their stupid scriptwriting contest.

All except for one entry that he couldn't really claim credit for. Not in good conscience.

Out of all the ideas he poured his heart and soul into, the one that got picked by the Drama Club was the one he barely worked on and wasn't truly his.

This reminded him of a rumor Machida told him about Go Nagai, the Godfather of Mecha Anime and the Super Robot genre. Legend had it that his magnum opus was Devilman and the one he made on a whim was Mazinger Z.

Wouldn't you know it? It was Mazinger Z that ultimately became popular.

Miku alleged that Go Nagai had abandoned all his popular manga including Mazinger in order to focus more on Devilman, only to go back to the well and make even more Mazinger sequels later on because of its popularity.

His passion was in Devilman but the demand was with Mazinger, so he as forced to write something he didn't feel like writing because of the demands of the audience. Just like how the only story that people loved from the Cherry Boy was something that didn't even originate from him.

However, that wasn't exactly it either. Tomoyuki's situation was only comparable to Go-sensei's if the Father of Mecha had plagiarized his idea for Mazinger Z elsewhere, which he didn't.

Tomoyuki's jaw clenched. Why did he have to remember something Machida told him now of all times?

Rejection after rejection from his Literature Club peers and the Drama Club itself had chipped away at his self-confidence. Going to the Literature Club stopped being fun and felt more like schoolwork.

Their critiques made him want to huddle underneath the nearest table like there was an earthquake drill and bunker down there till he died.

Like pinpricks to his heart. Or maybe more like multiple rabies shots to his fingers, since those supposedly hurt more.

It was death by a thousand cuts. The straw that broke the camel's back.

And that was indeed the last straw.

He had thought he could improve himself and become a better Tomoyuki by following his dreams, but maybe in the end he was deluding himself.

***

"Are you serious, Yamamoto?" asked the Drama Club president.

"...Yeah." Tomoyuki bowed down deep. "I'm really sorry for doing this. I didn't think it'd come this far."

"If you say so, then fine, I guess. But are you sure...?"

Although it made his insides want to crawl out of his mouth to become his "outsides" (as Yukari would joke), Yamamoto swallowed his pride and his aching heart back into this chest and came clean to the Drama Club regarding the truth behind the "Ran" manuscript.

Well, he came clean as much as possible without him ending up in a straightjacket and hauled off to the nearest mental institution. So he still (kind of) lied by omission.

Even though it was humiliating and could get him in trouble, he kindly told the Drama Club not to adapt his manuscript into one of their plays because he had plagiarized the idea wholesale from a failed movie script from renowned director Akira Kurosawa, which was actually all true to an extent.

He left out the part where he had gotten the idea from an AU version of his crush who lived in a dimension where Kurosawa's "Ran" was filmed to completion, contacting her through a extra-dimensional phone number he could only access through his cellphone.

He had suggested they just adapt the runner-up of their contest or something. There was no way they could adapt his story that was stolen from someone else. It was like adapting "Heidi" then claiming credit for it.

Besides which, he intended on quitting the Literature Club soon after anyway, so any positive increase in his grades for extracurricular activities that winning their contest would give him were all for naught.

He couldn't live down having his Ran "fan fiction" get adapted into a play not because of the brilliance of his writing but rather because of the brilliance of Akira Kurosawa.

He wanted no part of that. Luckily, his reputation was already in the crapper to begin with due to his "Rico Suave" shenanigans with Goto, Fubuki, and Machida when he was still a creepy freshman.

No harm, no foul, right? They'd allow him to save face this time around and just let him go?

Yeah, of course! Maybe the Drama Club would "forgive" him for "accidentally" stealing the ideas of a world-famous director and national treasure because he himself was a huge screw-up from the start anyway!

As he turned his back and began to walk away, the Drama Club President grabbed him by the shoulder, turned him around, and said, "Hey, wait a minute, Yamamoto! We're not yet finished here! We need to talk!"

'...Or maybe not.'

Ah, whatever. Let them drag his name in the mud. He could take it. Just like with Matsuda.

He was already used to being made into a clown.

***

Back to Tomoyuki sharing the "bad" news of him quitting the Literature Club to the AU version of the Amazon Queen...

"...You asked me what I love about you, right? Well, while we're on that subject, let me tell you what I hate about you instead!" said AU Seiko, her voice an octave higher, its volume rising like a TV set whose remote he'd accidentally sat on.

"Eh?" said Tomyuki, not sure of what to expect. What was this about? Why was she so upset?

"Why are you upset? Didn't you say before that being in the Literature Club isn't the way to impress Okamoto? Or impress you?"

"I wasn't sure if you were going to the Literature Club to run away from me! The other me! Like all the others! There, I said it!!"

"...What? What are you talking about, Seiko-chan?"

"I hate it... HATE IT... when people quit on me. When they couldn't even enjoy a game or even try to play their best because they keep comparing themselves to me! They keep being intimidated by me! That's what happened with Kazu-kun! He gave up on me and settled with Megu-chin! He told me the same thing you're telling me now! That I don't deserve him! How dare he decide that for me! Don't I have a say on who 'deserves' my presence or not?!"

Whoa. He didn't know what to say to that long rant.

Like before him, AU Seiko hit the nail right on the head. With a handy karate chop from her, even.

"Um," he began, gulping. He wanted to deny what she said about him, but gave up halfway through and instead said, "Okay."

Just like how he quit the Literature Club halfway through the school year.

He then asked defensively, "Well, what do you want, then? Unlike Kazu-kun, I gave up my dream. I stayed exactly the way you wanted me to be. Were you lying when you said you wanted me to stay the same like always?"

"No, I wasn't lying," she said. "What I told you came straight from the heart, Cherry Boy."

"Then why are you so angry that I decided to quit? You hate quitters yet you also hate it when people try to live up to your example of living life to the fullest every day! What do you want, Seiko?!"

"I DON'T KNOW WHAT I WANT, OKAY?!" she shouted back. "Is it too much to want both? Is it too much to want Kazu-kun to still want me and chase after me even as he started becoming more macho? He started shining by himself too? He stopped feeling like he's under my shadow like Megu-chin did, but when he did, that's when he left me!"

It was then that Tomoyuki realized something. Something that Megumi somewhat confirmed.

"Waaait. When Sugata left you for uh, Minagata-san, was he a crybaby? Emotional? Socially awkward?" He then cut to the chase. "Was he kind of like me?"

"...."

Her silence told him everything. His suspicions were correct.

This time, it was Tomoyuki who hit the nail right on the head. With a hammer, of course. He couldn't karate chop a nail like the Amazon Queen probably could. Probably.

"...Is that how shallow your love for AU Okamoto Seiko is? You're just going to quit the Literature Club like a little bitch? Or quit AU Seiko? You're not the man I fell in love with if that's the case," Seiko said to seemingly change the subject.

He then murmured, "Did you really fall in love with me, or a shadow of your ex-crush, Sugata Kazuhito?"

He couldn't help himself. Not because she called him a little bitch. More because he realized the reason why she fell for his other self.

She then hung up on him.

The woman he fell in love with more than the crush he had in the real world just rejected him. Told him that he wasn't the man she thought she knew.

What was he supposed to do now?

Should he stay the same way as AU Seiko's crush, AU Kazuhito, was?

Or should he pursue his passions to feel worthy of AU Seiko, despite her consternation and trauma from her Sugata abandoning her when he changed and grew?

He didn't know what to do at all.

***

Tomoyuki actually reached a compromise with the Drama Club president.

Because the president loved Kurosawa's "Ran" so much, or at least the Cherry Boy's treatment of it, they agreed to use the script on the condition that it was credited under Kurosawa instead of Yamamoto.

Tomoyuki decided to be a ghost writer for the treatment he made of "Ran" since he basically just copied an excerpt of the long film.

It was all described in his own words and all, but the whole idea and plot was Akira's, albeit an Akira from another dimension.

It was basically the writing equivalent of tracing an existing work and recoloring it, so they should give the credit where credit was due.

For good measure, Yamamoto handed all the materials, stills, storyboards, and synopsis to the president as well for extra research, claiming to have gathered them from sites filled with Kurosawa super fans.

He only held out on sending him the outright trailer for Ran, even though he could also lie and say that it was a fan trailer or something.

Regardless, everything ended up peachy. "All's well that ends well", as Shakespeare would say. Or write.

Right?

***

"Yo."

"Hey."

Tomoyuki and Seiko (the non-AU one) greeted each other casually at the hallway leading to the cafeteria.

"Miku-chin still isn't talking to you, is she?"

He shook his head, his mouth turning into a thin line in remembrance of last month's events. He didn't want to broach that topic right now though. He had other things in his mind.

"Did you quit the Literature Club to get away from her too? Miku-chin, I mean."

"No, nothing like that," he confessed. "It was more because of personal reasons, really. I just wasn't feeling that club."

She slung her arm over his shoulders. "Them's the breaks, I guess. If you want to quit then quit. There's no point in forcing yourself to do something that doesn't make you happy anymore, right?"

He nodded, inwardly amazed at how this Seiko was taking his news. It was like night and day. "I guess you're right."

"Hey, Cherry Boy. Have you ever heard of the Gracie Hunter?"

Yamamoto almost said yes but caught himself at the last second. He second-guessed his answer, realizing that he might've heard of Kazushi Sakuraba from AU Seiko instead of Seiko Seiko.

"Uh, who is that?" he feigned ignorance.

The Amazon Queen's eyes sparked joy in way he imagined AU Amazon Queen did when talking about something that excited her.

"His name is Sakuraba Kazushi. He's a pro-wrestler who decided to enter MMA and became a legend afterwards. He had an amazing run as an MMA fighter."

At the back of Tomoyuki's mind, he wondered how the Sakuraba of their universe differed from the Sakuraba of AU Seiko's world as the Seiko of his world kept talking about the Gracie Hunter's achievements.

Long story short, the "shoot wrestler" Kazushi Sakuraba earned the nickname "Gracie Hunter" by defeating all of the who's who of the Gracie Family, a Brazilian Family who developed Japanese jujutsu into their own more ground-based Brazilian jiu-jitsu style.

Jiu-jitsu took Brazil by storm due to the 790 Japanese immigrants that went there back in 1908 to fill in labor shortages in coffee plantations. Japanese culture permeated into the land, which led to Brazilians learning Japanese jujutsu.

Brazilian martial artist Helio Gracie, along with his brothers Carlos and George Gracie, founded the self-defense martial arts system known as Gracie Jiu-Jitsu, which was also known as Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu.

These badass martial artists went about their version of jujutsu in a different way than all other martial arts like aikido and karate, with them willing to actually fight people in the streets to showcase the practical applications of the self-defense martial arts system.

From what Tomoyuki understood from AU Okamoto's explanation, the first Ultimate Fighting Championship (UFC) tournament came about mostly as a method of showcasing Gracie Jiu-Jitsu as the ultimate martial art above all.

They also had Royce, the smallest brother of the Gracies, participate in the first UFC in order to show how their martial arts, not brute strength, was really the best around.

At least in AU Seiko's universe, Sakuraba beat Royler, Royce, Renzo, and Ryan Gracie one after the other. His one defeat by a Gracie, a rematch against Royce in K-1 Dynamite!!! USA in 2007, came about when Kazushi was past his prime and Royce tested positive for using steroids.

All the others fell against Sakuraba one after another. Royler was beaten by TKO (referee intervention while under the Kimura Lock) in the second round. His first match with Royce, the first-ever UFC Champion, also ended in TKO. He earned his "Gracie Hunter" moniker after that match.

Then there was Renzo, whose arm Sakuraba broke, resulting in a referee stoppage due to injury.  Famously, Renzo refused to tap out to a submission like his father Helio before him (who never tapped out) and his brother Royler who went unconscious while under Kazushi's Kimura Lock.

Finally, Sakuraba fought an injured Ryan Gracie. Because of a shoulder injury, the bout was limited to a single 10-minute round. Kazushi won the round handily while avoiding attacks on the younger fighter's arm. Later, the Gracie Hunter argued that Ryan faked the injury in order to catch him off guard with a submission.

This amazing run was all done by a pro-wrestler, weirdly enough. In an industry known for predetermined matches, Kazushi showed that the unorthodox showmanship of professional wrestling could work against "real" martial arts like Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu.

The irony was that the guy from the fake sport was able to beat tough guys who claimed their sport was the realest sport out there. In both universes of Tomoyuki and AU Seiko, at that.

'I wonder why Amazon Queen brought this up?' he thought to himself. Was she trying to cheer him up? Tell him that even though he wasn't that great of a writer, he shouldn't give up so easily or something?

He then brought up, "Did this Gracie Hunter MMA guy fight every last Gracie?"

"Hmmm? Oh right. He never fought Renzo Gracie. That was one of Renzo's greatest regrets, to not be able to fight and defeat the greatest thorn in the Gracie Family's side," informed Seiko.

"Wait, no. Wasn't it Rickson Gracie?" Tomoyuki corrected Okamoto absentmindedly, only to retract and say, "I may be mistaken though."

Seiko laughed. "Silly Cherry Boy. Rickson is the Gracie whose arm Sakuraba broke! Renzo is the one who never fought Sakuraba and claims he would've whupped his ass given the chance."

"Oh yeah. My bad," he said while mentally taking note that in their universe, it was Renzo who Sakuraba never fought and it was Rickson whose arm he broke when attempting to submit him with an armbar.

Seiko laughed in her tomboyish way, punching Yamamoto's arm with a smile. A sighing Tomoyuki gave her a wan smile in return. "You're not going to tell me that your remind me of Sakuraba or something, right? The guy sounds like a genius."

"Hmmm? Oh no, you're nothing like Sakuraba, Cherry Boy," said the Amazon Queen. "You quit your club. Sakuraba was a midcard wrestler who somehow showed everyone he's very skilled in actual shoot fighting!"

Tomoyuki chuckled at that. "I guess you're right."

The Non-AU Amazon Queen then said, "If Sakuraba had settled to being a midcard wrestler, he wouldn't be the legend he is today."

He asked, "Do you think less of me for quitting the club?"

She answered, "No. Like I said, you should do whatever you want. If you're really tired of going to that club, find some other passion. It's up to you to decide if the Literature Club is your passion or not."

***

A week or so later after quitting, Tomoyuki swallowed his pride once more and decided to rejoin the Literature Club.

He had finally found his resolve.

It was embarrassing to go back there and then act like a spoiled Prima Donna, quitting on the club only to come crawling back.

He also had to face Miku as well and start talking to her.

Thankfully, the members thought that the reason why he quit was because of the drama between him and the 2B Class Rep instead of him losing his nerve and confidence in his writing abilities.

They mostly engaged in small talk but it was a start.

He considered never returning to that club room in sheer embarrassment and shame, but then he realized that even if the plagiarized "Ran" script was his only shining beacon in his so far mediocre skill set, he still appreciated what the Drama Club president told him about it.

"I liked your version of the script. It wasn't bad. I understand that you took it from another source. Please let us use it. We'll credit you both and Akira Kurosawa, if you want."

It made him want to make a story of his own that didn't extensively crib or use plot points from one of Akira Kurosawa's  masterpieces (even if it didn't exist in their universe).

He wanted to, for once, be praised for something he made. All his own. Through his own effort. No matter how long it took for him to shape and improve his current skill level.

His dream of becoming a writer wasn't dead. He wouldn't let it die so easily, or else it wasn't really his passion in the first place.

Like Kazuhito, he'd become a man worthy of the Amazon Queen in his own terms. So he'd stop letting his own insecurities sabotage what he and Seiko had.

He had wondered whether he was doing this for himself or for Seiko.

He realized he was moving towards bettering himself this for the both of them, and that was okay.

Their blossoming romance should bloom. They should move forward together instead of becoming toxic to one another.

So that they could shine together. So that they could both decide that they were "worthy" of each other's love.

Regardless, he left this text message to AU Seiko:

"I'm sorry for today. Stop letting others define you. Stop letting others dilute you. Don't be bullied or pressured into being less than you are. Promise you'll do that and I'll promise to do the same for myself."

It sounded contradictory but even though he didn't want to be defined by others (which included Seiko), he felt the way that he was right now could never find happiness with her.

The more he got to know her, the more he realized she was an untamable woman with infinite potential. You had to keep up with her. She shouldn't let herself go down your level. You had to go up hers. Otherwise, you were dragging her down.

Whoever her boyfriend was should step up to her level rather than force her to go down his.

He wanted to grow along with her. Or perhaps the "her" in his universe he could actually win over. His consolation prize because his true love was a world away.

He most of all wanted to be more than just a reflection or shadow of the AU Kazuhito that AU Seiko lost.

The crybaby childhood friend she had that also grew up and toughened himself up because (and Tomoyuki was merely speculating but) he also wanted to be worthy of the AU Amazon Queen.

Most importantly, he felt like he couldn't quit the Literature Club right now because of the germ of an idea developing in his mind.

His own story, not Kurosawa's, about lovers from different dimensions falling in love with each other and helping one another win over the hearts of their other selves.

He wanted to write his script to the letter until its final verse. Hopefully, he'd write a happy ending. In his script and in real life.

***

To Be Continued...

By the way, this chapter goes through a span of a few months, but the next chapter will go back to the same month when he first joined the Literature Club. Near the time he celebrated his birthday.

Also, shout out to Doki Doki Literature Club. Helluva game and helluva paradigm shift at the midpoint of the story (you know the one).

Hope everyone's looking forward to the Tanabata Festival.

Farewell, Abdiel

[aporeticelenchus]

Happy birthday @ohbthr! I wrote you some dumb USM alternate Spider Verse fic. Specifically, Earth-TRN454, staring Petra Parker and Harriet Osborn.

“So like, total hypothetical here – if I were a dude, do you think I’d be hot?”

Harriet left off pushing soggy cafeteria peas around her plate and blinked at Petra several times. Harriet had the prettiest eyelashes. She would definitely be a hot dude, Petra decided. Probably the hottest dude in Spider-Boy’s dimension.  “I – what?” said Harriet.

“A man, a fellow, a guy about town. But me. But also not me? Just to be clear, I’m not actually talking about me. Just a guy who is exactly like me, except for being a guy and not me.”

“Yeah, thanks, super clear,” said Harriet.

“Like, in another dimension,” added Petra.

“Well, hypothetically,” said Harriet, “I’m super sure you’re a super dork in every dimension.”

Pertra stuck our her tongue and flicked a few peas at Harriet. She made sure to miss though; great powers, great responsibility, etc.

“See, the thing is,” Petra continued during gym, “still totally hypothetical, I have this feeling like guy-me was kind of a let-down in the looks department. Theoretically, in my imagination.”

Harriet didn’t respond, possibly because she was focusing on the pushups they were supposed to be doing. That was cool, Petra respected a good exercise regimen. She also respected how toned Harriet’s arms were. A great quality in a friend, for sure. She kept talking for the both of them,

“I know that’s not what I should focus on, like, guys can be more than just eye candy and whatever, but a girl likes to think that if a boy version of her fell out of a sky from an extra-dimensional portal he’d be cute, right? Is that shallow of me?”

That got Harriet to pause her pushups. “Uh, Petra, did a boy version of you fall out of the sky?”

“Theoretically-” Petra began.

Harriet groaned. “Why is New York always so weird?”

Harriet cornered Petra in the hallway after class and dragged her into the bathroom. “Ok, where are you hiding him? Do you have someplace safe?”

“Wha?” asked Petra, who was a little distracted by how close Harriet’s face was. What kind of lipstick did Harriet use? Whatever it was, it looked amazing. Dang.

Harriet tapped her expensive designer heels impatiently. “Boy-you. Who fell put of the sky. Where is he? Do you need me to buy him a fake ID? Or an apartment complex?”

“Huh? Oh. No. He left,” explained Petra. “Real fast. I let him help me out a little before he went – he was pretty cool, actually.”

“Help you out with what-”

“Anyway!” interrupted Petra. “I hacked some security cameras to remove footage of him, because I didn’t want Iron Woman and Ms. Fantastic showing up at my door thinking I’d invented a transdimensional portal-”

“Liar,” said Harriet.

“-showing up at my door thinking I’d invented a transdimensional portal and being disappointed that I haven’t.”

“Right, ok, that makes more sense.”

“And I saved some pictures!” Perta finished triumphantly. She didn’t mention that the hacked security cams had belonged to Norma Osborn. That was unnecessary information. “Wanna come see after class?”

“I, yeah. Sure.” said Harriet. There was a moment of silence. Harriet was still standing super close, and she seemed a little distracted. Was she blushing, or was that just her makeup? Petra leaned even closer to check.

Harriet jumped back. “Ok! Great! Awesome! See you after class!” She ran out the door and left it swinging after her.

Huh, weird.

It was actually pretty hard to find a shot of Spider-Boy with his mask down and none of the suit showing. Perta did some creative cropping and photomanipulation, but finding a promising place to start wasn’t easy. She was proud of the end result, and had left a copy taped up in MJ’s locker with no explanation.

(MJ’s confused texts had been worth every moment she spent on it. No question.)

Harriet’s reaction was less satisfying. “Yeah, I guess he does look a lot like you.” She handed the photo back to Petra without any other comment.

“Buddy! Harriet! Pal! His name is Peter and he does science and goes to our same high school but in another dimension. He’s exactly like me, except with a dorky haircut and sub-par cheekbones. Is that all you’ve got?”

“Your chin is better too, I guess.”

“Darn right it is,” said Petra proudly. “I’m totally better looking, right?”

Harriet shrugged, and looked down at the carpet. “Yeah. Probably. I guess”

Perta bumped Harriet with her shoulder. “C’mmmmooon, tell me how pretty you think I am.”

Ok, now Petra was definitely blushing, and still staring at the carpet. “Fine, sure, you’re super pretty. The prettiest girl in school.”

Petra did a fist pump. “Yesssssss.” That was a lie, because Harriet also went to their school, but Petra appreciated it anyway. “I should have asked him more about you and MJ. Do you think we’re still friends in his dimension? Am I the only one who’s different, or is it everybody? Do we all look like super dorks, or is it just the ones who are guys?” No way Harriet looked like a super dork in any universe, but Samantha absolutely one-hundred percent did. Petra knew this as a fact in her soul. It was probably an interdimensional constant.

Harriet shrugged again. “I dunno, I pretty much always think girls are cuter so…” She stopped, and seemed to realize what she had said. “Er.”

“Huh,” said Petra. She thought about this statement for a few moments. “Is that why you broke up with, um,” she struggled to remember the name of Harriet’s last boyfriend – she’d deliberately erased him from her memory as soon as possible.

“Kinda.” Harriet rubbed the back of her neck. “I wasn’t trying to keep it a secret, or anything. I decided to break up with him after I, um, sorta made out with Gina Thompson under the bleachers.”

“Oh my god.” said Petra, with real feeling. “Flash? Seriously? You have the worst taste in girls.”

“Ugh, I know.” said Harriet. “I guess that’s why I like you, you dork.”

There was a beat of silence, and Harriet’s face grew bright red, “Uh, I mean-”

Petra pounced. “Ohmygosh you like me! You like like me!” She grabbed Harriet’s hands and spun her around once excitedly. “You think I’m pretty, and you want to hold my hand and kiss me and date and get married and raise kids and invent a time machine to go back in time to do it all over again!!”

Harriet was still beet red, but at least she was looking at Petra now. “Yes, fine! I do!”

“Great! Me too!” said Petra, and she tackled Harriet with hug.

“…maybe we could start with the hand holding and kissing part? Work up to the time machine later?” said Harriet, sounding slightly dazed but not at all unhappy.

Perta agreed, enthusiastically.

[liliannorman]

Here’s how COVID-19 is changing classes this year

With summer vacation over, classes are resuming. But the 2020 school year will be different. With the COVID-19 pandemic still spreading, many people wonder whether it is safe for students and teachers to return to school.

Closing schools entirely isn’t a good idea. Without them, of course, students can miss out on learning math, science, language arts and more. But some also may miss out on breakfast and lunch. Some kids only get to see a doctor or nurse if they’re at school. Schools also teach valuable life skills, such as how to act around others. Kids and teens benefit from the friends they meet up with at school.

Because of that, many groups say it’s important now that students — especially kindergarteners to fifth-graders — return to school in person. Those groups include the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, the National Academy of Sciences and the American Academy of Pediatrics.

From buses to low-cost internet: Creative paths to online access

But the decision to open a school to in-person learning isn’t a simple one. School systems around the United States are trying to figure out what is best for kids and their teachers. Some schools are continuing the virtual learning they launched last spring. Others are starting with virtual learning and hope to have kids walking the halls by late fall. Still other schools are letting students in, and parents can choose whether to send their kids and teens.

In every case, school will be different this year. Crowded hallways and cafeterias are things of the past. “I don’t think it would be safe, honestly,” says Beatrice Barilla, 13. Beatrice is starting eighth grade in the Montessori Middle School at W. G. Sanders Middle School in Columbia, S.C. “We can’t go in [the way we] would be normally. That would be a disaster.”

Staying home

In some U.S. communities, many people are infected with the new coronavirus. If some of them go to school and get close to others, the disease could spread. Keeping kids at home is a good way to slow the spread of COVID-19. So many schools will look different because they’ll be empty. Or they’ll be a lot less full because parents have chosen online learning for their children this fall.

Explainer: What is a coronavirus?

Spencer Blosfield, 12, enjoyed virtual learning when COVID-19 hit. “I love to learn in the comfort of my own home, and I don’t want to leave,” he says. He loves computer science and finds it easy to code from home. Spencer will be starting seventh grade in a new school, Davidsen Middle School in Tampa, Fla. Florida is a state with a lot of coronavirus cases. Spencer’s not okay with going to school in person. “The pandemic is getting worse and then they’re sending people in person to school,” he says. “It’s killing a lot of people. It’s scary.” And so his parents have decided Spencer will continue virtual learning this fall.

Spencer Blosfield, 12, doesn’t mind virtual learning. He’s spending a lot of time learning to code inside an educational version of the game Minecraft and is excited about learning algebra. April Blosfield

But not everyone prefers virtual learning. Like many kids, Liza Granade, 13, switched to online school in March. They (Liza uses they/them pronouns) didn’t miss carrying all their books around Monrovia Middle School in Huntsville, Ala. But they also felt like they didn’t learn much. “It was really easy work,” Liza says. “Like, 30 minutes to an hour [per day].” There were no tests. And Liza is not sure they learned all they were supposed to. This fall, Liza will be starting eighth grade remotely again. “It’s not really going to change,” they say. “It’s going to be school, but I won’t get to see my friends.”

Keeping kids and teens home may be the safest option in a pandemic. But for some students — such as young children and those with special needs — virtual learning may not work at all.

Amanda Hecht is a special-education teacher in Massachusetts. Her kindergarten through fifth grade students are part of the Springfield public school system. Even one-on-one teaching over Zoom wasn’t great, she found. “I have no tools … like a counter or dice or fraction bars,” she says. “The social interaction is just not there,” she adds. “It’s not the same connection” and the students just “don’t have the same focus.”

Liza Granade, 13, misses their friends and says talking online isn’t the same. But they spent a lot of the spring and summer crafting, sewing and learning how to make strawberry jam. Stephen Granade

In places where there isn’t a lot of coronavirus spread, it’s possible to do in-person classes safely, says Rainu Kaushal. She works at Weill Cornell Medical College in New York City. There, she studies how to make sure people get the healthcare they need in the best way. She recently investigated how other countries have managed in-person schooling during COVID-19. “Something like 20 countries have successfully reopened,” she says. “I think it can be done.” Kaushal published her analysis June 30 on a site called JAMA Health Forum.

The share of a community infected with COVID-19 should be what matters when sending kids to school, she says. “You don’t try to reopen in the middle of the epidemic.” So if your rates are going up, says Kaushal, “that’s not necessarily the time to reopen.” When COVID-19 cases pop up in a school, she says, it might just be time to shut down again.

Successful re-opening, therefore, will require that schools be flexible and make some changes.

Go with the (air)flow

Infected people can spread the coronavirus whenever words and air (and spit) leave their mouths. If healthy people nearby breathe in enough of those viruses in the air, they could get sick, too. Studies in labs have shown the virus can linger in the air for at least three hours.

There are ways to lower the risk, though. So it’s important to mix the air in the classroom with fresh air from outdoors, explains L. James Lo. His research at Drexel University in Philadelphia, Penn., focuses on how air flows through buildings. Mixing dilutes the indoor air, spreading out any virus it may hold. That, in turn, cuts the risk someone will encounter enough virus to make them sick.

Many heating and cooling systems in schools pull in air from outside and mix it with air already in the building. That’s usually good. It takes less energy to heat or cool some new air instead of all the air. Unfortunately, Lo says, in many schools, these systems don’t mix the air well enough to dilute any virus. That would take bringing in a lot more air, and pumping more of it per hour around the building. In most schools, Lo explains, that won’t be easy or affordable.

See all our coverage of the new coronovirus outbreak

A small classroom might be able to install a small, portable air-cleaning unit. For a very large room, he adds, it’s probably is not doable.

Another option is to move classes outside. “Outdoor classes would be ideal. There’s precious little evidence of transmission outside,” says Ed Nardell. He’s a pulmonologist (Pull-mun-OL-uh-gist) — someone who studies the lungs and lung disease — at Harvard Medical School in Boston, Mass.

So this fall, classrooms might get new air filters that weren’t there before. Teachers might open windows and doors to help air move. And classes might be heading outside — as long as the weather is nice. 

That’s what the Academy of the Holy Names in Tampa, Fla., has done. Carson Dobrin teaches high school chemistry there. Her school is offering both in-person and online classes. “We have top-of-the-line air filters,” she notes. There are also outdoor classrooms. “We’re going to try to do all eating outside unless it’s pouring,” she says. When kids do need to go indoors, she adds, the school has converted one big room into a giant lunchroom where everyone can eat six feet apart.

To help students socially distance in class, teachers may measure how far apart to place desks. izusek/iStock/Getty Images Plus

Keep your distance

Six feet is a good rule of thumb for reducing the risk of getting infected, and there are ways to make sure people stay that far apart. It’s hard to remember exactly how far six feet is, however. So where kids line up, schools may now put dots on the floor to mark off the distance. Desks also may be placed farther apart than before.

Another way to keep people apart is to put fewer kids in each classroom. “It allows you to do the appropriate social-distancing,” Kaushal explains. If one kid gets infected, only that small class may need to quarantine (stay home to stop COVID-19 from spreading). Other groups of students could still attend the school.

But shrinking class size is going to be extra hard, Dobrin points out. Splitting up classes requires more teachers. Adding to the challenge, many teachers are retiring or leaving because their families have had to move. “We’ve never lost this many people,” she says. With fewer teachers, “class sizes are bigger than we would like.”

Other teachers just don’t feel safe going back to class. Hecht, the special-education teacher, is worried about a COVID-19 outbreak once schools start. “My partner has cystic fibrosis,” she says. “So I’m worried about bringing [COVID-19] home and having him die.” Cystic fibrosis is a disease that causes sticky mucus to build up in the lungs. COVID-19 is particularly deadly for people with this disease.

For now, Hecht can teach from home. She is trying to make sure she won’t have to teach in person until there’s a vaccine to keep everyone safe.

Other simple behaviors could help everyone feel safer in classrooms, Liza says. These could include checking everyone’s temperature when arriving for the day. Schools also could require people to wash their hands and wear masks.

Beatrice Barilla, 13, poses in her costume for a play at the Columbia Children’s Theater in Columbia, S.C. All rehearsals for the play were online, and the actors stayed six feet apart on stage. The play was filmed — no audience required. Rylin Hubbard

Masks can help lessen the spread of the coronavirus. “I feel like if everybody is wearing masks and in small groups and for less time and staying away from each other, that would be safe,” Beatrice says.

Masks are uncomfortable, though. They also can be hard for younger kids to wear. Teachers might need to give kids spaces to take off their masks for a while, Kaushal observes. Shorter school days might be needed, too, so kids can go home and take off their masks.

Many classrooms may have tall pieces of clear plastic between desks and in front of the teacher. Called sneeze guards or partitions, such barriers help limit someone’s exhaled virus from spreading to another. Even small droplets, Lo says, will stick to the barrier’s surface, preventing them from getting inhaled by others.

Some hallways might even become one-direction. That could make it confusing to get to class. But “the idea here is people are next to each other, not facing each other,” Lo explains. The less that people can breathe into each other’s faces, the better.

Among the hardest times to stay apart will be when kids ride a school bus. “Obviously, the safest form of transport would be if the child’s parents could bring them to the school,” notes Tina Tan. She’s a doctor for pediatric infectious diseases — ones that infect kids — at Northwestern University in Chicago, Ill. But many kids can’t get to school unless they ride a bus. Those kids will have to wear masks and won’t be able to sit together.

Squeaky clean

Scientists don’t think most COVID-19 infections come from virus left on things that people touch. The disease more likely spreads through shared air. But the coronavirus can stick to surfaces. So can other germs that make people sick.

People want to do everything they can to keep students and teachers safe. Schools already get cleaned a lot to make sure people don’t spread illness. Now, even more cleaning will necessary. Those partitions? They’re going to need to be kept clean. So will desks, hallways, books and any toys.

The entire classroom should be cleaned daily — desks, chairs, everything, says Kaushal. “I would err on the side of multiple cleanings a day.”

Schools need to keep things as clean as possible to prevent the spread of COVID-19. Rainu Kaushal says it’s best to clean door handles every time they’re used. izusek/iStock/Getty Images Plus

All this will require extra cleaning supplies. And these may cost more now, when cleaning supplies can be hard to find. Not all school districts may have the funds to supply classrooms with what they need. They may turn even more than usual to parents and teachers.

“My district usually does a very good job with cleaning supplies,” says Hecht. But she still sees teachers every year bringing in wipes, tissues and hand sanitizer. There’s never enough.

Another option is to cut off access to things that may be hard to clean. “A lot of schools are closing drinking fountains,” says Kaushal. “That’s a smart choice.”

Kids may need to bring in bottled water. They also will want to bring other supplies. To make sure that their germs stay with them, students shouldn’t share art supplies, pencils or paper, Kaushal says. Sharing is not always a good thing in the time of COVID-19.

Every effort schools take will help. Families can help too. In particular, Tan says, kids should get all their vaccines. There aren’t any yet for COVID-19. But there are for other diseases that can prevent school outbreaks — such as flu, chicken pox and measles. “If schools are seriously considering opening in person, they really need to ensure that their student population is up to date on their immunizations,” Tan says. “You don’t want to have an influenza outbreak on top of a COVID outbreak.”

Virtual learning, distancing, masks, cleaning — schools can’t rely on just one. Each tactic provides one more layer in our defense against COVID-19, Kaushal says. But even with all these measures at schools, kids still leave at the end of the day. If they become exposed outside of school, they could bring COVID-19 back to their teachers or classmates. So it’s extra important for kids and teens to stay home if they don’t feel well. No one wants to be responsible for spreading a disease to their teacher or friends.

Here’s how COVID-19 is changing classes this year published first on https://triviaqaweb.tumblr.com/

[odderancyart]

The New Girl

So this is a human/partially genderbent AU I and @kyuko-chan have talked about which also takes place in the non-Undertale version of the NRS-verse (Natéa).

So this is a thing now.

The classroom was loud and the atmosphere good-natured. Blue giggled loudly at a joke one of her classmates a few rows away had told the class and replied in kind. She received more laughter in return. Fell, her best friend, chuckled quietly at her side. The taller, black haired, leather-clad girl was leaning back in her chair and rolling her eyes in hidden amusement. She might seem intimidating, with her scar and edgy clothes, but Blue knew Fell was just a big softie at heart. Once you’d gotten past all that Fight Me, at least.

The few students who had tried to read before the lesson had given up and joined into the chattering of the class. As the bell rang, their teacher walked in. He cleared his throat and shook his head, making the bells on his horns jingle. Some students fell silent, some didn’t. Sky blue strands of hair tickled Blue’s nose, and she blew them out of the way. Shifting impatiently, she had had enough of sitting here already. Sitting still for more than ten minutes was awful. She sighed as the teacher finally got everyone to shut up and he began to talk.

Leaning onto the desk, Blue did her best to pay attention. But it was Engineering and it was freaking hard. Fell was much better; a natural talent. Blue much preferred math or physics, if she had to choose between theoretical subjects. P.E. was her favourite class though. Getting to run and climb was much better than being stuck in a classroom.

Then the teacher said something that got her, and everyone else’s, attention, “We’ve got a new student, everyone. Do come in, Razz.”

The door flew open, and in marched the edgiest girl Blue had ever seen. Glancing at Fell, she nodded. Yup. Even edgier than Fell. The new kid – Razz – was quite pretty, Blue had to admit. Long purple, curled hair. Striking purple eyes. A long scar running just to the side of her – it seemed to be a her but you never knew of course – right eye.

Black, spiked leather jacket. Her arms were obviously muscled beneath. Torn jeans. Purple stiletto boots, even higher than Fell’s. It was impressive how the other seemed to move so easily despite them. Blue would never understand how people did that. There was a reason she never had higher heels than two-three centimetres. Dear stars.

There was also something about the aura of the girl. The expression was cold, closed off, as she studied them. There was also something very lonely in it. Blue’s dad always said she was a great people person, and she could taste that this new girl was lonely. It was something with the tense posture, the expression on her face.

“Everyone, this is Razz Valkyria. Your new classmate. Do you want to introduce yourself?” the teacher asked, and Razz threw him a disinterested glance.

“No.” The short, simple answer was the only thing needed to throw him off the line. The teacher blinked in surprise a few times before he raised an eyebrow.

“Not even to tell us why you choose changed school? What are your interests?” he tried, and Razz rolled her eyes, scowling.

“Because everyone at Desroches was a piece of shit,” she said, even though she was talking to a teacher. Blue heard Fell’s snort in amusement. “Mounted archery, all horse sports, fashion, not getting crap from idiots. Can I sit down now?”

The teacher nodded, looking completely shocked. Without another word Razz went to sit at the only free desk, two rows behind Blue and Fell. The two of them exchanged glances. Desroches High was one of the fanciest schools in the country, built five hundred years ago by a Waeldéan princess who married a Beobyrian prince. What would someone rich enough to go there do at Lilypond – a public school? Blue turned in her chair to look at the new kid, waving slightly. A scowl was her only response. Blue tilted her head, studying her for a short moment before shrugging and turning back toward the front of the classroom.

Leaning toward Fell, she smiled.

“Can we befriend her?” she whispered. Fell shook her head, chuckling.

“If you want, Blue.”

After class Razz disappeared quickly. Blue and Fell hadn’t even gathered their books before she was out the door. They hurried up, and Blue’s heart pounded as they almost ran through the hallways to find her. She wanted to befriend the new kid, and if she wanted it she would. As they passed by Fell’s twin brother Red, she waved.

“Hey Red, are you eating with us or Stretch today? Or by your own?” she called as they passed, receiving a shrug in reply. Red didn’t even look up from his phone, but that was normal. He wasn’t very interested in being social and a bit of an asshole.

They were by the door to the school garden when they found Razz again. She was leaning against some lockers and talking to a blond boy who was even taller than Fell in heels. Slowing down, Blue grabbed Fell’s hand as they walked up to them.

“Hi! I’m Blue!” she greeted, smiling widely at them. The boy returned the smile shyly while Razz only scowled again. “This is Fell. You seem interesting. Want to eat lunch with us? The cafeteria’s got macaroni and meatballs today.”

Opening her mouth, Razz looked like she was going to deny them. She didn’t have time to, though, as the boy grabbed her wrist and nodded.

“We’d like to,” was all he said, voice almost inaudible. Blue raised an eyebrow as Razz twisted around, staring at him with wide eyes.

“No, I don’t-“

Once again, the boy squeezed her wrist, and she fell quiet even if she looked both disgruntled and impatient. He bowed down to whisper something in her ear, and she rolled her eyes. Yet when she turned back to the two of them she nodded once.

“Fucking fine, we’ll eat with you,” she decided. “I’m Razz. This is my brother Slim. Don’t ever hurt him or I’ll kill you.”

Blinking, Blue turned to Fell. The other looked just as bewildered, staring at Razz in confusion.

“Why in Natéa would we do that?” Fell asked, frowning. Razz didn’t reply, just staring at them. Blue hunched her shoulders slightly, feeling uncomfortable beneath that gaze. She put her bright smile back on her face, leading the way toward the cafeteria.

After grabbing their food, they went outside to eat. Due to all the different species the students in the school were, they didn’t have to stay inside while eating. For example, the dryads got rather jittery when caught up in the chaos that was the school cafeteria for longer whiles. Blue and Fell just preferred to sit outside when it was sunny and warm.

Razz was still scowling when they took their usual picnic table by the pond the school was named after. It was a big pond, full of white water lilies. The water sprites liked to play there during break. Blue was tempted to tell Razz to stop, or her face would get stuck like that but she bit her tongue. They didn’t know her well enough. Yet.

Red was already sitting at the table, nose stuck in a physics book. He didn’t look up when they sat down, only put another meatball into his mouth. Fell rolled her eyes in exasperation at her twin, but didn’t say anything.

“So, Razz, Slim,” Fell said, taking a bite of  her food. She twirled a lock of hair around her finger. “May I ask why someone rich enough to go to one of the finest private schools in the country would move to Lilypond?”

“Like I said in the classroom-” Razz replied, staring into the sky. Her eyes were narrowed and her lips were pressed together between words. “-everyone was jackasses and morons and we didn’t want anything with them to do. So we changed schools, and this one is close to home.”

Blue was extremely tempted to ask more, but it was obvious the other didn’t want to talk about it. Biting her lip, she let her eyes travel to find something else to talk about. She grinned. Razz had put her phone on the table, and on her phone case there was a picture of a horse. Blue remembered the other mentioning something about liking horses in class.

“Is that your?” she asked, pointing at the case. Razz followed the motion with her eyes and nodded slowly.

“Yes,” she replied slowly, swallowing the food in her mouth. “That’s Marmalade. My Flatland horse.”

A choking noise came from Red, who hit his chest a couple times, gasping over the table. Rolling her eyes again, Fell leaned over and hit her twin’s back hard until he stopped and was able to breathe again.

“Thanks,” he muttered before returning to his book. Blue agreed with the sentiment, though. With wide eyes, she stared at Razz.

“Isn’t Flatland horses like… super expensive?” she gaped, only to receive a nonchalant shrug in return. Slim nodded once, but didn’t appear very concerned either.

Despite the risk of appearing rude, Blue fished up her phone. A quick search told her everything she needed to know, and she held it up to Fell whose red eyes widened as well. A normal Flatland horse costed twenty thousand eight hundred Imperials. That’s more than her dads earned in a month. Not together, but on their own. And according to this site the cost of owning it was thousands of Imperials a month even after, with veterinary and food and such things. That’s insane.

Razz were staring at them now. She looked slightly confused at their reactions.

“What? Paying for her is the least our parents owe us,” she said.

Blue started at that, heart skipping a beat in slight worry for this stranger. That was an odd thing to say, especially in such a flippant way. Blue could also hear a well-hidden edge of anger, only because she often listened for things like that. It was concerning. But it was obvious it wasn’t something she could ask about. Not when they hardly knew each other. Slim was watching them carefully as he leaned toward Red, looking at the book. A small glint of curiosity had appeared in his eye.

“Red, show Slim your book,” Fell commanded her brother, apparently having noticed as well. Red glared at her, but moved his book so the other could see.

“Whatever, Boss,” he grumbled, making both Fell and Blue snort. Blue remembered when Red had begun calling Fell that. They’d been eight at the time, and Fell had been a pretty demanding child. Was a pretty demanding teen. So while it had started as a joke siblings between, it was now used more than her actual name by Red.

Taking a deep breath and ignoring exactly how rich this new girl must be, Blue did her best to keep Razz involved in the conversation. Slim didn’t even pay attention anymore, just reading Red’s book, so she didn’t have to worry about him. Razz didn’t make much of an effort, eventually just picking up her phone and doing something, but Blue was determined.

Then the break was over and they didn’t have any classes together for the rest of the day.

The next morning Blue and her little brother, Stretch, stepped of the school bus just in time to see a fancy car pull over next to the school yard. The entire bus load of kids stared as the chauffeur stepped out of the driver’s seat. They went to the passenger seat and opened the door with a blue-skinned hand, holding it open for whoever was inside. Blue blinked as Razz stepped out, nodding once to the driver. Slim followed, and they went toward the school entrance as the car drove away.

She wasn’t going to pass up the chance to talk more to Razz. Quickly saying goodbye to her brother, she ran after them, boots smattering against the asphalt. Blue was fast – she had even come 3rd place in the district finals in sprinting (the winner had been a young vampire, and they were naturally faster than humans)  – and quickly caught up with the Valkyria siblings.

Razz sighed as she saw her, and sent a glare. But Blue hadn’t been Blue if she had let that stop her. It was obvious Razz needed friends, or she wouldn���t have that lonely aura all the time, and Blue was determined that she and Fell would be those friends.

“What do you want now?” Razz almost hissed, jerking at the shoulder-strap of her bag.

“To be your friend!” Blue replied honestly, smiling widely. “Didn’t I make that obvious yesterday?”

Razz scowled deeper, and her shoulders hunched slightly into a defensive yet passive-aggressive body language.

“Look,” she spat out. “I’ve understood you’re the popular girl in this school, and I’m sure you’re used to getting what you want, but I’m not fucking interested in making friends. I’m not going to spend any time with you and your buddy pretending to be my friends to get to my goddamn money, alright? So stop following me around.”

Blue, as well as every student around who had heard what Razz said, stared at her with wide eyes. Blue was gaping. Well, that explained a lot. Razz threw her another glare before grabbing her brother’s wrist and starting to walk away. Blue didn’t know what to reply to that. Jessamine, a werewolf a year younger than them, suddenly took a step toward them.

She smiled slightly, and shook her head as she stared between the two of them.

“Hi, we haven’t met,” Jessamine said, a bit shyly. She tugged at one of her wild hair locks. “But I feel that I need to tell you that Blue would never do that. She’s the kindest person in this school. That’s why she’s so popular – not because she stomps on people.”

Blue felt the corners of her mouth tug upwards. It warmed her heart to hear.

“Thanks, Jessie,” she replied warmly, smiling at the other. Razz didn’t say anything else, just continued her way away.

At lunch, Blue didn’t suggest they’d find Razz. If Fell thought anything about this, she didn’t say anything. It wasn’t quite fair to pursue the girl if she didn’t want them to. And Blue was nothing if not fair. Hopefully someone would get Razz to believe people didn’t just want her money. She and Fell were just changing the subject from the president’s latest policies to the latest music video from their favourite artist when Fell raised an eyebrow and pointed to something behind Blue.

Turning around to look, she found herself looking at Razz and Slim arguing. The taller didn’t seem to be saying half as much as Razz, but with her expression he seemed to be winning anyway. Eventually she threw one of her hands into the air before marching toward them.

Blue stared at her as she almost threw her food tray on the picnic table and sat down next to them. Razz sent a glare her brother’s way, before sighing and looking at Blue and Fell.

“Alright,” she stated. “I’ll give you a chance to be my friends.”

After exchanging a surprised gaze with her best friend, Blue smiled brightly at Razz and gave her the thumbs up.

“Lovely!” she exclaimed. “We were just talking about Ianthe’s new music video. Have you seen it?”

[thefempress]

How I Survived The Struggles Of Being A Female In High School

Yes, it is better to be lonely than phony. The great desire to become popular seems to be encoded in our DNA, or at least that's the case in high school. The sacrifices we make to gain popularity in high school can indicate our hopes to be accepted by others, since no one really wants to be alone, and having at least one good friend can make the years go by smoothly.        

Now let’s take a moment to think about the awkward qualities of a "cool" kid in high school. I’m talking about those who carry the unflattering qualities of self-absorption and arrogance, which are terrible traits to embrace. Who wants to be friends with that kind of person?

The uncool thing about high school are the cliques, I mean, homework and presentations are better than cliques. In middle school, there was a moment when I would sit alone at the cafeteria table or be alone during recess. Part of that isolation may have been my fault for not trying to socialize better, but it was also my way of adjusting to the new environment. I felt ignored and extremely insecure, but there were few who acknowledged my loneliness, and eventually we became friends. As I made these friends I remained true to myself, since I knew I could always rely on and trust myself. The bright side to being an introvert was the skill gained through observation and awareness, which made it easier for me to not give in to peer pressure.

My high school days were a lot more different compared to middle school. This time I was more involved in extracurricular activities after the tenth grade, which made me socialize more. I was able to challenge myself and step out of my comfort zone. I became respected for socializing with different people and not following a crowd. I sat at different tables in the cafeteria, and it absolutely took courage to be my own person, especially when I decided to experiment with my clothing and hair. I stopped caring and gosh did it feel good. I actually enjoyed being different. This mindset boosted my confidence, and it made me feel “cool” for no longer feeling like the middle school version of myself.  In middle school I was intimidated and awfully shy, but I learned that what truly makes a "cool kid" is someone who stays true to themselves, and someone who shows kindness to others. Getting involved can keep your mind off of the nonsense at school. You may learn more about yourself along the way, while making new friends, and gaining experience.

Brushing off embarrassing moments is also crucial in high school. No one will remember the cringe worthy moments as the years go by. I fell on my high school graduation, a day that's supposed to be unforgettable. I felt extremely humiliated, but as time passed on I realized it was silly to stress about something that was so natural. Celebrities constantly fall on stage, including Beyoncé. If the Queen Bee herself can take a tumble, then so can anyone. We are human, we fall, and we aren’t perfect. Striving for perfection is an impossible task. So yeah, I fell on graduation, so what? I fell because of my lack of ability to walk in heels, but I was still salutatorian for class 2010. In that moment I felt like a loser, but I still won, along with everyone else in that room who were successfully graduating.

High school consists of exciting things but also regretful things. The word regret can be the saddest word in the dictionary. We all make mistakes in high school, which is unfortunately a part of life. It's how we learn and part of growing up - this may shock you, but mistakes happen even after high school. You might feel ashamed to ask for extra help, you might feel ashamed for not understanding, and you may think the best solution is to avoid it until you’re really stuck and failing; but we have to remind ourselves that we aren't born with infinite knowledge. That's why we have teachers - to pass the knowledge on to us.

I was guilty of this standoffish behavior when it came to a really challenging subject. I grew up terrible at math, and the thought of anyone noticing my struggle felt shameful. This only had a negative impact on me. I wasn’t understanding anything and the pressure of getting good grades was weighing down on me. I eventually decided it was time to reach out for help, and it was okay to do so. When I started college, the tutoring lab became my second home - something I never thought possible.

When we're young we often have a desire to try to impress people. They might break out hearts, but we could also break theirs. You might feel like a jerk if you have to reject someone who is interested in you, but that's perfectly fine. Remember, you are not obligated to anyone and do not owe anyone anything. You may also experience a battle where rumors might start to spread about you, or someone you know. You may be pressured by others to stop talking to this person because they have unfairly been labeled a "slut."

I experienced this in both middle school and high school, when a group of people tried to convince me not to talk to a particular person. I avoided these kinds of bullies as you should, since you should be able to talk to whoever you want. If the "slut" is genuinely nice, and if they have qualities of a good friend, then their reputation at school means nothing. It is cool to be kind and not feed into the gossip world.

You might have a crush on someone who is unaware of your existence, but that's not the worst thing in the world. You don’t have to date in high school; I didn’t and couldn't care less. You might feel tempted to start a relationship and explore your options, but it isn’t mandatory to be in a relationship. There is plenty of time for you to be in a relationship, so don't let anyone pressure you if you don't feel comfortable. That's not to say that high school sweethearts don't exist. It is completely possible that you just could meet the love of your life in high school.

Now, what if you have more friends of the opposite sex? I went through this and it was easier for me to get along with the guys and have a few special girlfriends, especially in my early years in college. I personally felt most girls were hypocrites and sneakily going against each other, but then I realized it was the same thing for boys. It does not make you a "whore" if you have more guy friends than girlfriends. Just be sure to put them in their place if they’re being misogynist, and if they’re really your friend, they’ll respect you and other girls at school.

High school only lasts for four years and then we all move on. Once you graduate, no one cares about who's popular and who wasn't, or who is dating who. No one cares about silly gossip when you're too busy with life. We naturally let go and allow our new life to happen. You need to keep in mind that school is temporary and all good things will come with hard work. I know it is exhausting to hear and we hear it all the time, but it's true. I was eager to start college even though my high school experience wasn’t as terrible for me as it might have been for others. The journey may feel so far, but you can change the game. You have the ability to prove to the world that you can be yourself without relying on anyone else. 

Leslie Garcia is a Puerto Rican New Yorker, who loves TV and potatoes, and has a passion for education, the arts, and culture. She is currently a senior at Lehman College; majoring in English (literature) and minoring in Early Childhood Education. In the summer, she will be a member of the CUNY Cultural Corps Summer Intensive, where she will serve as an Art Colony Administrative Intern at the Children's Museum of the Arts. She is also a strong believer and supporter when it comes to representation, equality, and human rights and hopes to become a teacher and publish children's books. You can follow her on Instagram and Twitter.

[teacherkmd]

Second Week in QuFu: Small Victories

Week 2

Since having my schedule rearranged, I have found myself with a lot of free time. I am having fun listening to the military training that all my freshmen students have to go through. It is also “fun” to walk around campus and have them get in trouble for staring at me when they’re supposed to be listening to their drill sergeant. (All freshmen in university go through mandatory military training lasting from 2 weeks to a month). My classes will start the last week of September.

(Good camouflage) 

The English department finally met up with us to talk about expectations and regulations. Since I am teaching all 6 sections of Speaking and Listening 1 for freshmen, I basically get to do what I want. I have textbooks, and there is a loose “use 50% of the books” rule. After looking at those textbooks, I’ll most likely be using them as homework and for support material. This course will basically be a conversation class. The textbooks seem to cover things like making appointments, answering a phone, how to end a conversation, how to begin a conversations, and ordering food at restaurants, etc. This all seems like very low level stuff compared to what the sophomores were capable of doing during the single class meeting I had with them.

I’m hearing whispers of a school sponsored trip to the Confucius temple this month, so look forward to more on that soon. We (the other foreign teachers and I) have also finally gotten the ball rolling on Chinese classes to begin next week. We picked up our textbooks this week to give approval. My book is an HSK5 (proficiency exam) prep book. It basically contains like 8 practice exams. I’m interested to see how the tutor will spend “class” time to help me prep for it.

Since last week there have been quite a few exciting developments. 

The foreign teachers all had a potluck. The new teachers (Kim and I) didn’t have much to contribute since we are still figuring out where to get ingredients and kitchen supplies. We did cut up a lot of fruit though. Sharlyn (another Fellow) made some bread, coleslaw, and some yummy veggie pasta. Karen, a short term visiting physics professor from Canada, brought some bread and baozi. Jordan, a French teacher (from France), brought some wine and an interesting perspective to our political talks about Trump, healthcare, and other things affecting Americans and Canadians. Mike (the host) had prepared another pasta dish, and some banana pudding. It was good to connect with the other foreign teachers on campus.

I met a senior physics student (who likes to point out how young I am). Since 1) I don’t teach seniors, 2) physics students don’t take English, and 3) she’s only 3 years younger than me, I felt safe agreeing to hang out with her. This hangout session comprised the first real test of my Chinese proficiency other than small talk or asking for service in stores in restaurants. She took me on a scooter ride around QuFu. Next to the Confucius temple is a shopping/eating district. Apparently, it is where all the young people go to hang out in town. We ordered some vegetarian (much to the regret of my new friend) noodles, some frozen fruit yogurt, and did some shopping. They (her friend showed up at this point) were very interested in how I would look in Chinese fashion. Unfortunately for me, this meant trying on a lot of clothes I knew wouldn’t fit simply because our bodies are shaped differently (particularly, Western shoulders will almost never comfortably fit into Chinese shirts even if your chest and rest of your torso manage to fit that size). Afterwards, we went to a street next to a shopping center I’ve visited before. This shopping center has a KFC and a Watsons (think Walgreens or CVS with no medication). The cool thing, though, was that this street, apparently, turns into a night market. I would have never guessed. They set up carnival games and have lots of street vendor foods. Afterwards, they drove us back to campus and we shared a meal in one of the school’s many cafeterias. This turned out to be very nice because I had been too overwhelmed to enter the flooded cafeterias on campus thus far. After eating dinner, they wanted to see my apartment. This might sound weird to some people, particularly those going “whoa don’t invite students to your apartment.” However, this curiosity is borne out of the fact that there is a huge difference in where the local staff and students are housed and where the foreign teachers and students are housed. I showed them my apartment to which they lamented that I live in a castle. I asked if they would let my friend (another foreign teacher on campus) see their dorm since she hasn’t any experience with Chinese college campuses. They agreed after warning me that it would be very messy. After collecting the other teacher, we went to see the student dorms.

I didn’t take any pictures as it would have been rude. Just imagine a building from a post apocalyptic zombie movie. There are bars on all the windows (I assume to prevent suicides or accidents or both). The lights in the hallways don’t work. There aren’t showering facilities anywhere in the buildings and students resort to sponge bathing. All the doors look like prison doors, short, metal, and inset into thick walls. All the doors are locked with padlocks if no one is in the room, and left unlocked if a student is inside. Each roommate has a key for the padlock. When you open the door to the dorm, you will see a room smaller than most people’s bedrooms back home. On the left side of the room are bunkbeds to accommodate four students and the right wall is lined with desks. There is a small porch for them to hang laundry. There is barely any room to walk and definitely no semblance of personal space or privacy. In some dorms, there are 6 beds (four on the left wall, and two high rise beds on the right side that have the desks under them). 

After showing us their dorm, they wanted to show us where the graduate students stay on campus. The difference is night and day. They have a completely newly renovated building. It has an elevator (my building doesn’t even have an elevator). Central heating and air-conditioning. Motion detecting recessed LED lighting in the hallways that turn on and off as you move down the hall. A fancy restaurant like cafeteria in the basement. Only three students to a room, each room containing their own shower and bathroom. Lockers are next to each of the beds for them to put their personal belongings in. They had an even better porch than my apartment, with laundry drying racks that elevate and lower from the ceiling. 

Anyways, that ends the “hang out session”.

Monday the 10th was Teacher Appreciation Day. Sad for me since I no longer have students. But not really, since students still used WeChat to send me messages and found me to give me chocolate. One of my students interviewed me about my love life (I was under the impression it was only going to be sent to my students) and then published it on the school website for a “teacher highlight.”  Now faculty and staff all know about my love life so that is fun! If not extremely awkward. But the page also included student comments about what they think of me as a teacher. Since I only had one class with them, a lot of the comments are that I smile a lot, I talk loud (#AmericanProblems), and that I’m pretty.

I also finally got paid my living stipend by my university. And since nothing is really available in stores around here (like measuring spoons and cheese and butter), I am happy to announce I have figured out how to have things like this delivered through the Chinese version of Amazon (TaoBao). I may or may not have also purchased a popcorn popper for the microwave (anyone who knows me won’t be surprised by this). 

This week also included my first trip to the gym. The other foreign teacher and I joined the most “western” gym we could find. They send us the group class offerings in a weekly WeChat message. Not that that helps either of us since she can’t read Chinese, and I don’t know any workout language in Chinese. However, after doing some conversions from miles to kilometers and figuring out what speed I needed to be running at… I can now report it is extremely hard to run in polluted air. You really can’t breathe. The weight machines are also a trip, because the weights don’t list what weight they are, not in kilograms or lbs. I might take a silver sharpie and just write my best guesstimate. I maxed out one of the machines though, so I’m pretty sure they’re not calibrated the same way they are in the US. Watching the guys faces though when I put max weight on the leg machines was #priceless. 

Yesterday, Tuesday the 11th, I observed a local teacher’s English class. It was a group of junior students doing intensive reading. Their text was about hurricanes and the destruction they cause in the US. So naturally, this North Carolinian had to keep her sh*t together and try not to let her anxiety about Hurricane Florence’s approach mess with the observation. The teacher called on me multiple times during class to explain things like the Salvation Army, portable classrooms, and if “returnees” meant the same thing as refugees in the text. The actual teaching of the class was not as bad as I thought it might be (based on what I hear about Chinese teaching pedagogy towards intensive reading word by word). The teacher still did 98% of the talking, but she focused on language choice (“what words show the power of the storm?”) and article structure (“why would the author choose to break up the narration with this paragraph here?”, “Why are so many of the sentences short and elliptical? What effect does this create?”). The major concerns for me were the lack of student interaction in English (when they did work together it was in Chinese) and the fact that all the students had a reference text which included the article written in Chinese with answers to all the questions and exercises. I talked to the teacher after class and she seemed really open to working together to come up with solutions for these problems which she agrees are problems. She also seemed open to the idea that part of my job and hopes for my role on campus is to hold workshops. 

All the teachers in my office (the linguistics office) are really open and friendly. I think the fact that I have relatively proficient Chinese abilities is helping me here. I hope to keep observing classes till my freshmen classes start so that I can keep building connections and relationships with the other teachers in my office and the literature and translation offices. That way, when it comes time for me to actually suggest things like workshops or MOOCs or other professional development opportunities, maybe some one will actually make time in their already overbooked schedules to hear what I and other teachers have to say. 

That’s all for now!

(I know I promised to be better about pictures…. but next week really I promise… I really will be better. Below are some photos I took while on a walk out of the North gate of my campus.)

[rantsaboutponies]

Equestria Girls: Legend of Everfree

Can they please stop making these? I don’t budget my time well, it’s 2:30 in the morning, I want to go to bed. Just remember, I’m doing this for YOU guys. For YOU guys.

For the record, I wait until the last minute to write these reviews because they usually take almost three times the length of the movie to write. It’s also why I can’t watch them on TV; I have to pause constantly.

First of all, I didn’t hear jack shit about this movie. I think the viewership for each one really is dwindling. I barely even saw any porn of it! That is surprising!

Second of all, was this one ever available on Netflix? I swear I streamed the third one there, but now it doesn’t even have a listing (nor does the fourth one). Hopefully the version I got is the uncut version (it’s not a TV rip, and the runtime does match), but if I left anything out, be sure to tell me. Oh, and I’ve given up on that list of “things that all these movies do that directly contradict the fact that this universe intersects with the pony universe” that I tried to carry over into the second movie’s review, so keep that in mind.

Oh, and can anyone let me know if they see a trailer for My Little Pony: The Movie in the theater? It comes out in four months, and I’ve been at almost all of the kids’ movies this year (yes, even Rock Dog, which actually wasn’t half-bad, and The Boss Baby, which was not as bad as the trailers made it look but was still the worst of the kids’ movies I’ve seen this year [which isn’t actually surprising, since there have only been three]; I’m still not seeing Smurfs, though, and I’m sure as fuck not seeing Spark: A Space Tail), and I’ve seen nothing about it. I’ll make a separate post about that closer to October.

All right, the review proper starts...NOW!

I said it before, and I’ll say it again: DO THESE HIGH-SCHOOLERS HAVE PARENTS?! SERIOUSLY, WHERE ARE THEY?

Thirty seconds. Thirty FUCKING seconds. That’s how long it was before Pinkie Pie made me want to strangle her. Literally. Thirty seconds. Her first line. Fantastic impression you’re making on me, movie.

All right, Rainbow Dash throwing a picture of herself into the suitcase is certainly part of the annoying one-dimensional writing that she (and really, all of the characters) has had in these movies, but...I’m sorry, I still laughed. Forgive me.

Wow, the...uh...plot just started right away, didn’t it? I’m so confused. I sure hope this is a dream sequence because otherwise this is really stupid. Oh, okay, it was. Never mind.

Ah, the indie rock craze has finally hit Human Equestria. You guys are, like, five years behind on that, you know. I gotta be honest, though, I kinda like this theme song. I feel like it would sound better with different singers, but I’m digging this so far. Maybe this movie won’t be so bad? Ah heh heh heh...

I briefly forgot that Human!Twilight’s Spike was magically given the ability to talk at the end of EQG3, so I was thrown off there for a second. I just realized, though, that that means that they don’t ever have to have any connection to Pony!Equestria ever again. Smart idea, but Pinkie’s summary of the previous three movies immediately afterwards negates what you were going for there (especially since none of that has anything to do with the plot of this movie directly).

“You’ll get used to it.” Yeah, you’d better get used to your “friends” talking shit about you to your face. The second movie was full of that. *sigh*

Oh, goody, Professor Umbridge is the camp director. Please tell me she gets dragged off by centaurs at the end of this movie, too.

“Stay away from the rock quarry. That’s off-limits. Unless, of course, you’re a main character, in which case the plot will facilitate that you go there at some point during this movie, probably somewhere near the end. Just a heads-up.” (Also, “rock quarry” is redundant, dumbasses.)

Actually, the word “sapphire”’s link to the Latin “sapphir” (or “sappir” or “sapphīrus”) links to the Ancient Greek “sáppheiros”, meaning “precious stone” or “gem”, which probably linked to a Semitic source (similar to Hebrew’s “sappī́r”, referring to lapis lazuli), but may be related to a non-Semitic source such as the Sanskrit “śanipriya”, meaning “dark-colored stone” or, literally, “dear to Saturn”. And, as an interesting sidenote, the Ancient Greeks didn’t even have a word for “blue”. Also, rubies are not just sapphires “with chromium”; rubies are corundum with chromium. Sapphires contain other impurities like titanium, iron, or magnesium (which give them any of a number of non-red colors) that rubies may not contain at all; since chromium is what colors them red, chromium is the only impurity required to make a ruby. So, in other words, shut your fucking face, you smug dipshit.

By GOD, I hope Gloriosa is the villain because I really hate her.

See, even though Filthy Rich is, well, filthy rich and could very easily be an upper-class dickhead, the show never made him one. He’s clearly not aware what an utter bitch his daughter is, since he punished her for it the one time he found out, but he has always been depicted as someone who cares about his community and acts kindly towards the other ponies in the town without being condescending or displaying any obvious class distinction. It is something notably unique about the show and is something I’ve actually admired amidst its recent waning quality.

The people writing this movie apparently didn’t know that and just went, “His name is Filthy Rich? He must be the VILLAIN!” Goddamnit, you fucking worthless TV movies.

Oh, man, oh, man, please tell me that Princess Celestia is holding a flute there in the background because she’s telling a “This one time, at band camp” story. I’ve already made that joke at least five times in my head by now, so please tell me I’m justified.

Holy shit, look at that setup! These girls get massive tents with only two people in each and with FULL-SIZE BEDS! So much for “roughing it”! How big is this camp again? This must take up a ludicrous amount of space.

Please tell me they’re not going to do Sunset Shimmer’s storyline again with Twilight. Come on.

No, Sunset, if there’s anyone you should be nervous around, it’s Pinkie Pie.

Okay, Fluttershy’s line about “birds that land on your finger” WAS funny until you felt the need to explain the joke with Rainbow Dash’s “I think that only happens to you.” Rule #1 of comedy: Don’t! Explain! The joke!

Does Vinyl Scratch have an amazing wireless connection, or do her headphones themselves contain an MP3 player? I don’t see those working any other way.

Can I punch Timber in the face yet?

How the hell would you make that dock into a catwalk? The only way that would work would be if either the models entered from or the audience were seated in the water. Otherwise, the models will be walking away from the audience and not easily visible for the majority of their time on the runway. You’ve gotta think about logistics, Rarity!

PUNCH.

Hmm...Gaia Everfree’s story is kind of weak. And arbitrary. “YOU CAN’T STAY!” “Oh, please let us stay!” “WELL...OKAY. BUT YOU’LL HAVE TO LEAVE! EVENTUALLY! AT SOME POINT IN THE FUTURE!”

25 minutes in is a little late for your first song, guys. I was starting to think this wasn’t going to be a musical.

Oh, thank GOD, Timber is a villain, too. That means we’ll get to WATCH HIM DIE. ... Okay, fine, wishful thinking. Hell, being the villain in these movies (or on the show) pretty much guarantees that you’ll get even more screentime in later installments. (Also, he apparently can’t hear anything that’s right next to him as long as he’s offscreen. Right.)

Of course, the scene in the cafeteria reminded me of this.

And in the next scene, it’s impossible not to think of this.

So... Rarity’s just...useless. That’s been established, right?

Goddamnit, Pinkie, stop being a menace! You almost killed all of your friends! Again!

Hmm...this song sounds like a really lame, low-rent version of this.

Wha? You mean the obvious villain is obviously a villain? NO. (Except I guess that means that Timber isn’t a villain as well. Damn.)

Boy, it’s really convenient that Gloriosa is having these extremely lengthy and detailed flashbacks while they all just stand there, totally unbothered by Sunset zoning out and holding onto her arm.

I do like that they made dummies of Twilight and Sunset just because they weren’t there for the dress rehearsal. How long do you think that took?

“I GOT THIS!” That’s got to be one of the weakest things I’ve ever heard that someone tried to turn into a catchphrase.

Well, looks like someone really liked Maleficent.

I gotta ask...has there ever been a good villain song in the MLP movies or the show?

“Oh, no! She’s forming a wall that clearly has an upper bound! If only we had some sort of appendages that we could use to project our bodies upward! No, I think we had better wait until the vines completely form a dome over us. Surely that will work.”

I think the writers are trapped in this paradox of knowing that they have an actual interesting character in Sunset Shimmer but being forced to focus all their efforts on the Mane Six because they’re the main characters, despite having no personalities to speak of.

“What are these?” “I’m not sure! But clearly they will be in stores alongside the release of this movie!”

Ah, so you got out of the logistical failure of trying to figure out how the dock could act as a runway by canceling the fashion show altogether! Wow.

Okay, this song is definitely one of the better ones in this movie series, but holy crap, get some stronger singers. I mean, all right, I know you can’t, but...can’t you, like, release an official cover of this song recorded by an actual singer, like Disney does with their animated musicals?

I do always love the moronic cliché of the villain showing up at the ending celebration for no logical reason other than to scowl at the protagonists and storm off angrily.

You know, there are only so many features and accessories and superpowers you can add to these characters before you start running out of places to put them.

*GASP* OH MY GOD THAT ENDING CLIFFHANGER MEANT NOTHING! Seriously, fuck off with that shit.

And of course, the stinger has to show that Pinkie Pie always ruins everything. ALWAYS. ALWAYS.

All right, so in conclusion...these movies are all the same. I mean, I think we kind of established that already, but man...

Can we just give Sunset Shimmer her own movie? One where she just fucks off by herself and finds better friends with actual personalities and they all do something interesting? Can that be the next theatrical movie? Please?

[therealestvc]

Abridged Max ch. 6

Monday had arrived and Max and Chloe still weren’t back. Kate and Victoria had to figure out what to do with the raunchy, outspoken other versions of their friends…and how to disguise Other Max’s accent and Other Chloe’s Californian accent.

Guide on acting like Max and Chloe 1. no cussing anyone out 2. Talked in a hushed tone or don’t talk at all 3. Don’t direct any attention to yourself 4. Tea parties with Kate every Wednesday 5. Don’t and I repeat don’t beat up Warren 6. Be nice to everyone 7. Take pictures regularly 8. No smoking any Mary Jane

It was working so far, it was almost like they were their Max and Chloe…the only big tests were photography class and eating at the two whales diner. They had Taylor and Joyce to worry about, after their run-in with Joyce and David. They had to be more careful.

Their first few classes were going good until Other Max decided to punch Warren in the face. Her response was “I didn’t like the way his ugly face was looking at me”, she hadn’t known about their Max’s obvious naive attitude towards the Warren situation. His response on the way to the nurse’s office was “damn, chicks be crazy”.

After that incident, they reached lunch time and ate in the cafeteria with no accidents or threats. Other Chloe had joined them with Kate, her day went very well until she decided to speak in philosophy class about the meaning of life. The teacher fainted. When she came to, she put on a film about Ghandi and muttered something about needing a vacation.

“I didn’t know she was going to faint, my bad home dogs.” Other Chloe quipped taking a bite into her BLT.

Victoria and Kate voiced a collective groan, ‘these idiots’. They thought before taking bites into their own food. After lunch, they had to split once again for photography class which Kate, Victoria, and Max had. Usually they would talk about what they did over the weekend with Taylor. Other Chloe decided to wait in Kate’s dorm, she was under specific instructions not to touch anything. She could do it right?

In photography class, they all took their seats and since there was about ten minutes before class started, they decided to talk with Taylor. They would simply explain about Max’s lack of speech as her losing her voice over the weekend.

“So how was you guys weekend?” Taylor said smiling.

Other Max made a noise of displeasure but was quickly shutdown with a kick in the shin by Victoria. Taylor didn’t seem to notice this, she was just waiting patiently for their answer. Kate and Victoria both looked at each other silently telling the other to say something. Kate finally spoke up.

She sighed “it was good! We had a lot of fun and ate a lot, how was yours at your parents?” She asked directing the attention from her and others.

Taylor answered laughing “it was like the usual, my mother is doing good..same for my father, and my brother is a little butt like always. They should send him to boarding school, I can tell he is running up their nerves…he tried to convince them to turn my room into an arcade haha.” The others joined in on laughing except for Max.

“Haha that’s funny, I’m surprised you didn’t kick his ass Tay.” Victoria said laughing.

Kate added in “if any of my sisters did that then, they would ship off to catholic school pronto” laughing.

Taylor took notice of Max’s usual humorous comment, she voiced on her observation about Max’s lack of speaking. The response she got was “oh, she lost her voice this weekend…from screaming during the scary movies, it should be back next week or maybe in two weeks” by Victoria. 'Well if Tori says it then it has to be true’. Taylor was good because she didn’t question much things and she followed by what her friends said but mainly by what Victoria said.

The late bell rang and they all got ready to learn about what their teacher was going to teach them today. Mrs. Crumestine got the projector on and one word was read “project”. Kate and Victoria instantly looked at each other and internally panicked. Oh boy. The instructions for the project were to pick a partner and take pictures about their everyday life, create a story so to speak. It was for the next week, Taylor already snagged Max as a partner before any of them speak up. This was going to be a challenge.

Taylor told a seething quiet Max that she would meet up with her at 6 today for some first day pictures, Taylor told her that she wanted an authentic retro look. So they would be using Max’s camera. Other Max just nodded and tried to smile but it looked more like a snarl. Class ended and the girls decided to go to the two whales to get dinner. Kate called Other Chloe, telling her that they would heading to Kate’s room after Max and Victoria dropped their things off at their rooms. She also told Other Chloe “you better not have touched anything”. She was met with a nervous laugh.

Once they reached Kate’s room after pretty much bribing Other Max with 20 bucks to work with Taylor on the project. The room looked normal. They looked over to Chloe who was sitting by Kate’s desk with a jar that was turned upside down. They each quirked an eyebrow at the blue haired girl. Kate sighed stepping forward towards Other Chloe and jar, she moved the jar and out flew a fairy who looked very angry and blew a raspberry at Other Chloe.

Kate turned towards Chloe again “you idiot, what did you do?” She picked the fairy and did a quick spell sending her back to her land.

Other Chloe shrugged “I just wanted to test out a spell, plus she said she turn me into a frog if I didn’t let her out”. Other Max laughed at this, but was shut down with a slap upside her head by Victoria, she gave her the finger. “Chloe that is soo cool, I wish I could been here with you. Classes were boooorrrrinnggggg” she commented amping up her friend who gave her a thumbs up.

“Could you two not be trouble for at least an hour? You know what, don’t answer that…Chloe get up we are going to the two whales for dinner, we are just going to pick our order then going to eat here” Victoria said already heading for the door with Kate in tow who was shaking her head. She put her arm around her friend’s shoulder in support. The other two were left behind and were joking around and kicking things over.

The trip to the two whales was relaxing for Other Max and Other Chloe who were pissing off the blondes like no tomorrow, it had started with the spitballs in the back of Victoria’s seat by Other Chloe. Egging her on by Other Max who was telling her to try and hit the short haired blonde’s head. When she would hit her head with the spitballs, she was rewarded a smack on her leg by Victoria who never took her eyes off of the road. Other Max was pissing off Kate by kicking the back of her seat.

Kate was praying to the lord for her not to reach back there and beat the crap of Other Max. She was already mad about Other Chloe messing with her magic books…those things were expensive. She was so close from losing her cool when they reached the diner. They both turned around with smiles on their faces looking at Other Chloe silently telling her not to screw this up.

When they got inside the diner, they gave Other Chloe a pointed look. Other Chloe shrugged. She stepped towards her mother trying to make her voice as normal as possible. “Mother…I’m sorry, I freaked out you and the coronal” she smiled at Joyce who smiled back. “Oh it’s okay Chloe, just don’t do it again.” She nodded then walked with some sort of swagger back to the others with a smirk on her face. “That’s how you do it, dogs” the others looked at her with gaped mouths.

Kate went to go get their order of burgers, salad and fries. They reached back to Blackwell without anyone getting pissed off or almost accidents. Other Max spent her time back to Kate’s dorm whining and complaining about having to work with Taylor, in her universe…Taylor was as equally mean to her as this one was before all the changes took here. Victoria reassured that Taylor had changed and texting Taylor telling her to meet at Kate’s dorm since they were eating.

Once Taylor arrived at Kate’s dorm, she knocked on Kate’s door…the others except for Other Chloe inside urged Other Max to open the door. However, since the dorm walls weren’t that thick…Taylor could heard everything going on behind the door, she heard a welsh voice that sounded like Max and a California accent that sounded like Chloe, 'thank god for no lock rule’. She opened the door and was met with the blondes pushing Max by the door and herself pulling with help from Chloe.

“Guys what is going on here?” She asked with an eyebrow quirked.

Other Max spoke before Kate or Victoria could “none of yer fuckin business taylorrr”.

There was a loud thud and they all looked down seeing Taylor on the ground from fainting.

The blondes looked back to Other Max who just shrugged and gave a nervous laugh…'ohhh now she acts like Max’, they both smacked Other Max upside the head who in turn gave them a glare and flick of the finger.

They both again looked at their fainted friend then at each other. 'We’ve got some explaining to do’

Picking her up then putting her on Kate’s couch..how were they going to explain this one without most likely getting a call from a mental institution? How long would it be before Max and Chloe got back?

How long?