Did I ever mention how much of a Riddler fan I am? Well, I am one. A HUGE one. Sorry for the random DC fandom post but these have been idling in my folders for a while now so I thought I’d post em up. X’) I’m a DC person shhhh.
The sheet says gather three trials. The TA says five. You’re on the seventh and your partner is preparing another sample to test.
You measure the sample once and it says 0.5. You check again and it says 0.10. Again. 0.07. The number is never the same.
You still don’t know your lab partners name. You never knew their name.
You’re allowed to use the special instrument scale. A breeze blows through the room. The TA has to reconfigure the scale. Your time is over, and the next person walks into the room. A breeze follows them.
You put your pencil down for a second. You look back and it’s gone. There are three people in the room. Everybody else is using pens.
You walk into the room with a hair tie on your wrist. You set your equipment down as lab starts, and go to tie your hair back. Your hair tie is gone. You are the only girl in the lab right now.
The TA gives the safety lecture. The far right fume hood is not to be used. It doesn’t work. None of them work. The fire truck hasn’t been to the chemistry building in a few days anyway.
You pass by a dark room every day. It’s got a cleared to practice sign on it. Equipment is there and never dusty. You watch it from a distance every day. It’s never used.
A fire drill goes off. The TA assured you it’s just a test run. Sirens echo in the distance as you measure out exactly 0.45 mg of powder C.
You’re doing a calculation when you hear it: the distinct sound of thumping. The TA tells you it’s probably just the cadaver lab. Ignore it.
You walk into the lab. You stare at the TA, who stares back at you with the dead eyed gaze of a grad student on his fifth cup of coffee. You hand in your report and walk away silently, knowing you saw your future.
You have a lab next week. You still don’t have the grade from the last lab. Or the one before that. You don’t have any lab grades.
The booklet says the lab will take two and a half hours. The TA says an hour. You’ve been here for four, and no where near done.
You go to office hours. You wait the entire four hour time slot. Nobody is there. The next day the TA says nobody came to office hours.
You have a question on your lab due. You search for your TA’s email in your notes. You go to the website. They aren’t listed. You email your professor. They’ve never heard of them. Your TA smiles at you the next day.
On the first day of lab your TA introduces himself. His name is Matt, and he’s a grad student at the university. The other TA is named Lauren. They were your TA’s for your last lab. And the lab before that. They are the only TA’s you have ever seen.
Credit to @papalogia for like half of these. She gets the Struggle.
Summary:You’re head over heels for your best friend Bucky and hate the nickname he gave you as it doesn’t exactly scream romance.
Word count: 3923
Warnings: language, talk about injuries, sarcasm (sometimes jokes are okay)
A/N: Thank you all for the amazing feedback and support on the last chapter. I’m completely blown away and ecstatic that you like the story. I hope you like this next part, it’s a little drawn out but I had some angst I needed to get out. Feedback is always appreciated. Thank you again for your patience between updates.
Natasha didn’t actually want you to answer that question. She was ranting and raving, throwing her
hands in the air, pointing a polished, accusatory finger in your
direction. She switched from English to
Russian so quickly that it seemed as is if she were a one-woman show playing
all the parts. You couldn’t get a word
in edgewise though. Every time you
opened your mouth to reply she merely answered herself or spoke right over you
with a barrage of “what were you thinkings” “you could have dieds” “I’ve never
seen anything do stupid in my entire lifes” “what the hell is wrong with yous”
and what you suspected were several rude and explicit Russian insults.
Prompt: Mother Gothel’s daughter heals Harry Hook despite her best judgement.
Harry Hook x Reader
“Y/N please!” Gil begged you as you sat at Mother Gothel’s Coffeehouse with your hand on your chin in contemplation. He needed you to come to the docks, said that the infamous Harry Hook had needed healing and you were the only person able to help the pirate.
“Harry Hook, needing something from me?” you asked with a perfectly rouged smirk on your face. Harry wasn’t your favorite person on the Isle. He’d told you ever since you’d come here that you would never fit in, that you didn’t belong. You had lived half your life as Rapunzel’s daughter in Auradon until Media caught wind that you were Mother Gothel’s daughter but Rapunzel, your half-sister, had treated you like her own all your life.
You’d been sent to the Isle of the Lost, back to your birth mother just as the four chosen Villian Kids were brought to. You hated it here and Harry hadn’t made anything better. “He said the only person who could help was the flower child. You are the only flower child I know,” Gil exclaimed.
“How hurt?” you sighed and glanced up at his innocent face.
“He took a sword to the chest trying to defend Uma,” Gil told you and removed his cap. “Please Y/N,” he begged once more. You threw down your food and straightened.
“Alright.” When you finally got to the dock, Uma was frantically pacing at the bow.
“What took you so long? Save my first mate,” she yelled and pulled her sword from her sheath.
“Threatening me will do you no good. Can any of you say please? Jesus,” you pushed past her to the ship where Harry was lying with his hook on his side. He was crying out and groaning in pain. You double tied your belt to your maroon floral romper and knelt at his side.
Back in Auradon, Rapunzel taught you to use your magical healing ability but only when fully needed. The Beast allowed you to keep them, asking Fairy Godmother to perform a protection spell that allows you to continue to use it when needed. But, now that you were back with Mother Gothel, you were forced to keep her young and in perfect condition, and it made you weak after each time. “Flower, you-,”
“Save it, Harry. Just shut up, alright?” you gulped and held your hands above his bleeding wound. “Flower gleam and glow, let your powers shine. Make the clock the reverse, bring back what once was mine, heal what has been hurt. Change the fate’s design, save what has been lost, bring back what once was mine…what once was mine.”
A golden glowing light shown through your fingertips and Harry’s wound slowly closed, his toned chest back to normal as if not even a scratch had touched him. He glanced up at you in shock, never having seen magic like yours before. It didn’t last long, his look turned to confusion then fear as your eyes rolled into the back of your head and you fell forward, fainting from the drain of energy in your body. The last thing you heard was Harry calling out “Flower.”
You woke a few hours later, a constant rocking making you nauseous as you sat up quickly and fell from a hammock. Strong arms caught you, placing you gently on the wooden floor. You opened your eyes to see Harry staring back at you. “Are you al’ight Flower?” he asked you.
“Harry, I’m fine. I’m gunna go, I need to get home,” you told him as you stood and another wave of nausea overtook you, making your head spin.
“You need ta explain ta me what made ya faint,” Harry exclaimed, steading you.
“You don’t deserve to know anything about my life. I healed you, that’s it,” you grumbled and shook yourself from his grasp. “You and everyone else on this Island has made my life a living hell since I’ve gotten here and I don’t want to talk to you or be around you,” you huffed.
“I was tryin’ to welcome ya ta tha Isle, it’s how I am with every-,”
“I am not everyone,” you sniffled. “I am not from here and I don’t belong in Auradon. I don’t belong anywhere. My mother sucks my life away just to keep her skin clean, I’ll be dead before my 20th birthday. I’m not worth welcoming so save it,” you told him sadly and moved toward the port to the deck.
“Hey, I may not be your favorite person bu I will not let ya go back ta your mother on the condition that I value yur life,” Harry took his hat off, placed his hook on the table by the hammock and held his hand out for you to take.
This got really long, I’m sorry. Hope ya’ll enjoyed it.
Context; This is a session with a completely unexperienced dm, who didn’t have enough time to plan this out completely, so we’re winging everything right now. The party consists of a Human Monk (Tas), a Drow Rogue (Ash'on), a Tiefling Fighter (Harmony, whose player wasn’t able to attend due to work), and my Elven Bard (Thia). Right now we are essentially doing a murder mystery-type quest at a fancy dinner party. Note, that I am also a part of another where I play a Tiefling gunslinger called Kali, which is DM’d by Tas’ player. Also, Ash'on’s player is completely new to DnD as well.
Ash'on: (OOC) Ok, I’m gonna go down to the wine-cellar and investigate since I’m not actually helping up here.
Tas: (OOC) Wait, you’re going alone?
Ash'on: (OOC) Yeah, you two are doing just fine up here. Besides, it’ll be a quick in-and-out.
Me: (OOC) Oh, hell no. We do not split the party!
Ash'on: (OOC) What, why not? I’ll just look around and come back.
Tas: (OOC) No! If you’re going down there, we’re coming with you.
Ash'on: (OOC) Why?? I’ll be back, and you guys are looking for clues up here anyway.
Me: Listen. It literally says in the manuals that you do not split the part. Trust me, I should know. In the session [Tas] DM’s I split the party like an idiot and one of us got kidnapped, and me and our barbarian almost died!
Ash'on: (OOC) This isn’t splitting the party-
Tas and Me: Yes it is!!
Me: You are literally splitting the party by having us be in two seperate places.
We ended up arguing for another good 10 minutes, until we finally got Ash'on’s player to relent and let us come with him.