#college has made me realize i like science after my middle school teacher (ONE OF THE WORST IVE EVER HAD) high key discouraged me out of it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

aita-blorbos · 6 months

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AITA for cooking meth with my former chemistry student, killing two people, and lying to my family about it?

I (50M) was recently diagnosed with inoperable, likely fatal lung cancer. I work at a highschool as a chemistry teacher, but both the pay and the students are terrible. Case in point, my "lab partner" (24M) - who we'll call "Cap'n" because of course he'd insist on a stupid nickname like that - not only completely flunked my class, but then went on to skip college entirely and become a meth-addicted drug dealer instead.

Understandably, I was a little shaken after receiving my diagnosis. It came as a surprise since I've never smoked, I keep myself in relatively fair health, etc. (Recently my wife has taken to vegan bacon- apparently it helps lower cholesterol, but I digress.) I haven't told my family about the situation yet; I'm still trying to figure out how to "let the cat out of the bag", not to mention I doubt my wife will take it very well.

As for deciding to try cooking methamphetamine, well. I'm not really sure how to explain it, exactly, but there's a lot of money in it, money that would benefit my family, and I don't have much to lose anymore. This may sound cliche, but it's as though I'm really awake for the first time in my life.

Cap'n and I formed a partnership by circumstance only; I found out he was in "the business" and offered to either turn him into the DEA or work with me, and he naturally took the second option. He had no idea what he was doing on the chemistry side of things - chili powder in the meth! applying heat to an Erlenmeyer flask! no wonder I flunked him, he clearly learned nothing in my class - but does know the trade.

(Note: Don't buy all of your supplies from the same store.)

Sorry, I'm getting too far into the weeds here, let me skip ahead. We purchased a trailer and drove out to somewhere in the middle of the desert to cook without added attention or need for dramatic cleanup if we had to leave the area in a hurry. Our first batch was, according to Cap'n, "pure glass." After all of that complaining, I had cooked the finest product he'd ever seen on the first try! Goes to show paying attention in school does pay off, ahem. In case any of you were reading this and thinking of skipping off to go and make highly illegal substances and risk years in prison instead of doing your homework. You all still have your entire lives ahead of you. I don't.

After making it, the next logical course of action was to sell. Cap'n said he had some connections - I mean, he is a drug dealer, I saw no reason not to trust him (I now see how little sense that makes.) - and came back with two men with guns pointed at both of us. You must understand, it was a kill or be killed situation. These are the kind of people who don't care about morals, or what's right or ethical or kind. If they'd lived... not just me, but my wife, my son, and my entire family would all be in serious, mortal danger. I had no choice.

Cap'n by this point had been knocked out cold- still alive, but entirely unhelpful with the situation at hand. I was on my own. So I offered to show the goons how I made the "glass", surely they wanted to see how it was done? And they did- I still can't believe that actually worked. But, ah, instead of actually cooking anything, I gave them... let's call it a chemistry lesson. When significant heat is applied to red phosphorus - a key ingredient in Cap'n and I's "extracurricular science project" - it oxidizes. Your result is phosgene gas, highly deadly, hence the "killing two people." One... technically isn't dead yet- somehow he managed to survive, I still don't fully understand how, but I'm... I'm working on it. Cap'n still has yet to get rid of the first body, so... technically I'm not failing to withhold my share of the cleanup, since he hasn't done so with his.

I realize now this is very long, but I wanted to explain the context for my actions. However, a tl;dr for those who might be in a hurry: I was diagnosed with terminal lung cancer, so with nothing else to lose decided to try to make some money for my family by cooking and selling methamphetamine. Coincidentally, a former student of mine was also in the business, and I convinced him to work with me. When we tried to put our product on the market, two people tried to kill us, so I acted in self-defense.

But I really, really must know... is what I did wrong? Should I have been content to live the rest of however-long-I-have-left working a miserable job as a public high school chemistry teacher instead? Should I have found a less fatal way of dealing with the two men who tried to kill me and my partner? AITA?

P.S. It's pretty late as I'm typing this so I might've made some errors in coherency or grammar, for which I apologize.

#aita #am i the asshole #unreality

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grendelsmilf · 1 year

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i think the reason ive always been so derisive of mathematics while loving physics is largely bc of the teachers i had in grade school.

i had some really horrible math teachers growing up, like this one woman who looked like a bridge troll, always mispronounced my name in ludicrous ways, and was actively bad at math. for example one time in fourth grade we were doing percentages and she asked the class what 1/8 was as a percent, so i raised my hand after realizing no one else knew the answer, and said “12.5,” to which she asked me how i knew that, so i said, “half of 100 is 50, and half of 50 is 25, which is 1/4, so half of 1/4 would be 12.5” and she said “wow. i never thought about it that way. i always just knew the answer because it was told to me.” MY GOOD WOMAN U TEACH MATH TO CHILDREN??????? the one even remotely good math teacher i ever had was in eighth grade, which is probably why i enjoy basic algebra slightly more than any other elementary math topic.

but i had a really great science teacher in middle school. he was so mean but so smart, and sometimes he just eschewed the curriculum to teach us what he felt like. he introduced us to quantum with the double slit experiment, and taught us about how to measure waves, and i thought it was the coolest thing ever. by the time i learned physics formally in high school with a boring nothing teacher who made us do nothing but kinematics all year, I didn’t even care because I remembered being 13 and finding physics fascinating. and i never took physics 2 in high school either bc the teacher was a known misogynist white guy who says namaste freak lol. but i still knew i was gonna pursue astrophysics in college despite that.

not to mention math has always been my brother’s “thing,” like it’s really the only thing he cares about and so his identity was always so heavily tied to being a “math prodigy” that the idea of me daring to encroach on that was simply out of the question. but he had absolutely zero interest in physics (or even applied math of any kind really) so it was fair game for me lol.

but yeah maybe im too hard on pure math for those reasons. my best friend does pure math and she’s wonderful obviously. i do recognize i would probably like math more had i been raised in different circumstances. i don’t know. anyway mathematicians can SUCK MY DICK

#ppl who do both pure math and physics are the bravest souls on earth tho #couldnt be me

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jeongvision · 3 years

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🗣 TEACHER!AU WITH JOHNNY

PART TWO! LET’S GET IT!

pairing. history teacher! seo johnny ✗ english teacher! fem! reader (ft. english teacher! mark lee)

genre. fluff, slight humor, high school teacher au, non idol au

warnings. some cursing and super soft hours after this huhu <3 and not proofread but we can discuss that later

author’s note. this is an continuation to this blurb! this could be read as a standalone but regardless i hope this brought a smile to your face bc it certainly did for me <3

You should’ve seen it coming. Damn it, it was right in front of you all along, so why didn’t you see it in the first place?

You and your students have been grinding nonstop for the past couple weeks to prep them for the AP English IV exam. There was a time where you requested two days off from work for emergency purposes (thankfully it was nothing too major) leaving you to ask your coworker- Mark, another teacher in your department -to help fill in your students on materials needed for the exam.

Everything was perfectly fine when you came back, your coworker going beyond your expectations in taking care of your students. However, one thing you failed to take notice of is the recent changes the college board made in their AP exams, including the course you teach. After reviewing some of the revisions they made, you felt your heart drop.

They’ve added three additional sections to the exam, meaning an additional two weeks is needed to cover the materials for your students to grasp some sort of mastery on those concepts.

You have four weeks left until the exam, and you’re already compacted those remaining weeks with other necessary materials for the exam.

“Fucking hell,” you murmured under your breath.

Running your hand through your hair, you let out a tired sigh. It’s already bad enough that you have to work overtime in making revisions to your lesson plans. However, it’s worse to see the crestfallen looks on your students’ faces when you dropped the news on them. They’re already tired enough from dealing with other classes and extracurricular activities. On top of that, you know most of them are stressing about their acceptance letters from their colleges.

You dropped the pen in your hand and rubbed both of your eyelids. Relax, y/n you told yourself. Don’t worry, you can do this. You heard the door behind you open, meaning someone walked inside the teacher’s lounge.

“Hey, y/n. What’s up- Woah, woah, WOAH! What do we have here?” the person exclaimed. You let out a chortle. You could distinctively point that voice out from anywhere, and you’re sure as hell that the state of your workspace is nothing short of hell. Taking your hands away from your face, you crossed your arms and leaned back a little in your seat to look up at the latter.

“Well, hello to you too, Mark,” you chuckled. You both gave each a fist bump before he sits down in the empty chair beside you.

“What the hell happened here?” He grabs some of the documents splayed out before you, eyes scanning through the materials that you’ve scribbled on in the past hour. “Wait, what? They added new things to the AP exam?”

You sighed and nodded dejectedly. “Yep. And somehow, I gotta squeeze all those materials into my lesson plans before they take it next month.” You rested your arms on the table and rested your head on top of them. “At this point, I just want to light myself on fire and call it a day.”

Mark lets out a cackle besides you, prompting you to smile. You’ll never mention it to him, but his laughs and smiles are always infectious. It’s what makes him so well-known and loved in the English department in the first place, both faculties and students.

“Please don’t do that. We love you too much to let you do that to yourself,” he responded.

Sitting back up in your seat, you take a glance at the clock. Just four minutes before the section ends and you have to go back to teaching your classes again. You heard your coworker clear his throat, bringing you to face him.

“Do you need help with any of this?” he offered.

You shook your head. “No, it’s fine, Mark. I appreciate the offer but I don’t want to bother you with my workload.”

“No, really. It’s fine, y/n. I only teach honors and they’re all pretty ahead in their assignments, so I have some free time if you’d like.”

Just like that, you swear you could see a halo shining above his figure, your world much brighter and clearer than it was this morning. “Oh my god, yes please.” You shifted through your papers, searching the remnants of the piles before handing it over to him. “Can you please go through these and grade them for me? Here are the answer keys for them.” After debriefing him for that stack of papers, you gave him another one. “And for these, can you make some copies for me? I need them tonight so I can plan for tomorrow’s class.”

He listened attentively to your commands, taking a mental note and nodding each instruction given to him. “Okay, got it, y/n. I’ll get these done and hand them over by the end of the day.”

You’re gawking at him, surprised that your coworker is willing to lend you a helping hand. You could honestly cry out tears of joy right now, but timing refuses to let you do so as the bell rings, marking the end of a period. You both stood up in your seats and grabbed the papers on the table into a neat pile. You let out a content sigh as you both walked out the teacher’s lounge.

“Thank you so much, Mark. You’re the best,” you exhaled. Outside your classroom, you already see some students entering inside as you left it unlocked, free for them or your coworkers to enter as they pleased. You both stood next to its entrance before he shrugs his shoulders at you.

“Hey, I mean it’s what I do best, right? Being the best.”

You rolled your eyes and gave him a playful shove, earning a laugh from him. Saying goodbyes to one another, you walked inside your classroom. You nodded to the students present. “Afternoon, class,” you greeted.

“Good afternoon, Miss y/n!”

“Miss Y/n, there’s a bouquet of flowers on your desk,” one of your students called out. You raised an eyebrow. Flowers? Looking over to your desk, your student was certainly not lying and neither are your eyes. Perched in the middle of your desk lies a vase filled with varying colors of tulips. Petals are in full bloom and the stems are clipped uniformly. You walked over and saw a notecard attached to one of the flowers.

“Who is it from, Miss Y/n?”

“Yeah! Who got you flowers?”

You looked up and realized more of your students are present, capacity almost at its max. Class was starting soon so more and more are rushing in to see the surprise gift settled on your desk.

“Is it Mr. Kim in the science department? I saw you two walking together in the hallways last week.”

That assumption piqued your interest. “Wait, Mr. Kim? The physics teacher?” you asked. The student, Krystal, nodded, causing you to huff incredulously. “Krystal, please. We’re merely just friends.”

Another student chimes in. “Friends don’t lock arms with each other at work.”

“Jongin, please. Your last girlfriend only stayed with you for a month and she started dating an upperclassman a week later.”

“Hey—”

“Guys, calm down,” you interjected. “As much as I love you crazy bunch, I am still your teacher. Therefore, what occurs in my personal life stays private, and how much I am willing to share with you all lies in my discretion.” But unbeknownst to you, one of your students sneaks behind you to get a glance of the card, discreetly reading the contents:

‘The best deserves nothing less than the best.

Yours truly.’

The student, Luna, almost lets out a squeal. “Guys! Guys!” You jumped in shock, startled by her sudden presence and her high-pitched voice. “I think it’s Mr. Lee! The other English teacher!”

All attention is now on her, excitement filled in the air.

“Mr. Lee? The one that teaches honors?”

“The one with boba eyes?”

“The one that laughs at everything?”

Luna nods to each question, visibly thrilled with the subtle jump in her steps as she walked towards her classmates. “Yes! I heard Miss y/n calling him the best earlier and Mr. Lee joked about being the best! And in the card, it said ‘the best deserves nothing less than the best’.” The bell rang, marking the beginning of the period, but that didn’t stop your students from chattering with happiness, faces completely wiped from fatigue and stress of the upcoming exams. Some students entered your classroom late to the discussion, prompting other students to fill them in only to also be electrified by the ‘news’.

You run a hand through your hair again and sighed. Not this again, you thought to yourself. But just before you could jump in to stop all this chaos, you heard someone knock on your open door, diverting your attention and your class’ to the intruder.

“Well, good afternoon, class,” the person chuckled. “Why’s it so boisterous here? Did I miss a party or something?”

Of course, what better person to appear now of all times? It was none other than the infamous history teacher, Johnny Seo. You rolled your eyes before laughing. Coincidence, my ass.

“Mr. Seo! Someone gave Miss Y/n a bouquet of tulips! She has a secret admirer!” Luna stated.

He raised an eyebrow at her direction. “Oh, does she now?” He looks back at you with a grin. “Did Miss Y/n find out who this secret admirer is?”

“We think it’s Mr. Lee from honors English.”

“And what makes you think so?”

“Because we heard her call him the best earlier before class started, and the notecard called her the best.”

“Coincidence? I think not,” Jongin nodded.

All of the students followed along in unison, profoundly proud of their assumptions that left you shaking your head in disbelief. Surely, you had a smile on your face, but it’s surprising to know how your students are able to make such large assumptions based on groundless evidence. You sat down in your chair and turned on your computer, getting your lesson plan ready for the period as your students entertained themselves with Mr. Seo.

Johnny takes it all in, nodding to all of them before walking up behind your desk. “Well, I think it’s safe to say that you don’t pester too much to Miss y/n about it. You know how much she likes to keep her life private.” While you were browsing through your saved files and pulling up powerpoints, you felt the latter tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “Right, Mrs. Seo?”

And just like that, your hands stilled. Wait, did he just—

“Hold up..”

“What?”

“Did you just—”

“Mrs. Seo?”

“Huh?”

You squeezed your eyelids shut. Oh my god, here we go again—

“YOU GUYS ARE MARRIED??”

jeongvision’s milestone event!

#johnny #nct johnny #johnny scenarios #johnny imagines #nct #nct 127 #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 imagines #johnny x reader #johnny x oc #johnny fluff #johnny smut #johnny suh #johnny seo #johnny angst

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owly-sims · 2 years

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Reminiscing About the Sims

Thank you for the tag, @nocturnalazure! I enjoyed this! My response is a little long...

I believe I started playing The Sims with the original game in 2000-2001. My sister bought it for me as a gift for my 12th or 13th birthday. I had played several Maxis games before that, like SimAnt, SimEarth, SimTown, etc. It was the first game I really got lost in. I remember having friends over for sleepovers and making ourselves, our crushes, our enemies etc. Side note: I always made my self-sim have a baby with my sim-crush, then I would kill my sim-crush.* I do not know why I did that.

I initially typed about 1000 words reminiscing, so I'll cut it down to the highlights:

I never wrote a story about TS1 but I did make up stories as I was playing. With Makin’ Magic, I had a whole universe in my head about witches who would use the pet to human conversion spell to make their mates. Oh my lord, typing that out makes me realize how wildly weird I was as a teen.

My first sims story was a video I made about Lilith Pleasant that I posted to the official Sims 2 website. It was removed for foul language.

I wrote two separate stories in TS2 that I posted to Mod The Sims under an old account. Both were roundly mocked, which made me shy away from sharing my writing for years.

I remember one of the stories was about a vampire that started a legacy, and I tried to make it sexy because I had just read a bunch of Anne Rice. Sadly, because I was 15 and had only done hand stuff with the doofus I was dating at the time, it was not very sexy.

I started writing for TS3 after dropping out of a graduate program in library science. I was working as an adjunct writing teacher, and looking to find a fulltime job teaching or tutoring. I wanted to practice fiction writing and I was bored and depressed so I started my original Bee Legacy. The comments were so incredibly kind that I still go back and read them sometimes when I need to cheer up.

*A few years ago, one of my old middle school friends was in town while I was hosting a party. I invited her over and we both got very, very drunk and started talking about our old sims slumber parties, which apparently delighted the rest of our friends (who we met in college). There's an ongoing joke in this friend group that whenever someone wants to visit they'll ask if they can come over and make their crush in the Sims. I've also started hangout invites with "hey, wanna come over and make your crush in the Sims??"

I haven’t caught up on my dash so I don’t know who has and hasn’t done this. I’ll tag @ktarsims, @windermeresimblr, @drawing-way-outside-the-lines, and @simzys. Feel free to ignore!

#i'm catching up on my dash tomorrow!#personal #tag thing #sims reminiscing

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celamoon · 3 years

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JJK characters as people I met before college

Characters include: Itadori, Megumi, Inumaki, Nanami, Gojo, Nobara, Maki, Sukuna, Geto

Warnings: unedited, typed at 12am ❤️

Itadori as the boy I liked for a bit in freshman year. He’s sweet, incredibly athletic, but also a bit bonkers. He shares a good number of passions with you and he also talk a lot. He has a sibling, who’s apparently a skater boy who plays girls. He knows how to cook, but can be a bit stubborn at times. He’s the reason you studied to hard to pass the placement test with, only to end up realizing that he didn’t make it. But he was sweet, even if you later on realized that you two weren’t compatible.

Megumi as the boy I had a crush on in 4th grade. He generally doesn’t talk, always done with his friends wrecking havoc. He’s sweet though, because when he catches your eyes slightly dropping he’ll have you lean onto his shoulder to rest if you’re sitting down. If you guys are out, then he’ll excuse the two of you to go home. He doesn’t talk much at school, but he never hesitates to let you know about how he’s feeling. He always listens to you vent after he finishes talking about his day. He also offers you great advice and helps you cut off people who are damaging to you. Once you got sick and this man cooked you up an entire dish for when you woke up. Another time you went to an amusement park with him and he won you a stuffed animal. He also really liked mangoes so now you use mango flavoured chapstick as a habit. You still talk to him surprisingly enough.

Inumaki as the boy I sat next to in middle school History class. He’s quiet, quiet as hell and hates talking to the class. He will slip in a passive aggressive comment that’s enough to have someone shut up every once in a while though. He refuses to share his notes with anyone but you, and you even get to use his expensive alcohol markers! He lets you use the coloured pencils and ruler he carries around in his backpack and only ever discusses on topics with you. He helps you grab your binder from the shelf when the teacher calls on everyone to, and he also shares homeroom with you. Once you actually got him to talk about his passion for chess and homeboy wouldn’t shut up about it (it was adorable). On top of that he also always letting you raid his lunch for the snacks his parents pack him. He also mentioned that he would miss you in high school. You still have the words ‘I’ll miss you’ written in your yearbook from your final year.

Nanami as the boy I always vented to in sophomore. He comes to you to vent about school and work often, and you’re always there to listen to him. You offer words of advice and you listen to the tea that he heard of from Gojo. He always asks before venting and always apologizes after. You two form trust, as you vent to him quite often as well. He a really good listener, and he would drop the task at hand to make sure you’re ok. He sends you song reccs and animal crossing updates too. He’s really sweet, and you feel safe around him. He would fight a rude person on the street for you if you asked him to.

Gojo as the guy my friend had a fat crush on. He was sweet and you had arrived to the school three days late thanks to an exam, and you had been told that he wrapped your books for you. You find that he’s extremely gifted athletically and he’s the fastest in your school. He talks to lots of people online and even asked one of the girls a grade below you out. He got rejected though. He’s very friendly to you, and he always has a rebuttal to the girl that insults you in class. He also taught you how to insult the girl back . He also comments on how you’ve changed. Cut your hair? He makes a comment. Put yourself hair up/down? He makes a comment. Got a high grade? He makes a comment praising you about it. You two don’t have a crush on each other but he makes sure that you’re comfortable in school and you’re thankful for him.

Nobara as the popular girl in middle school. She’s not obnoxious surprisingly enough, and she gets along with everyone. She’s the center of all the gossip and she always has the freshest tea. She doesn’t talk with you often, but you once let her know a small secret just to find that she was incredibly good at keeping secrets. She fought with her best friend at some point so she started to talk to you about her relationship with her boyfriend. You got a bit annoyed but she helped you get over the crush on your deskmate so you’re thankful for that. She also talked to a ton of guys online and somehow never bumped into an internet pedophile. You didn’t talk to her much but you’re thankful that she was in your class.

Maki as the smart upperclassman I talked to in middle school. She was incredibly sweet, yet she didn’t talk to that many people in her class since they isolated her. She told you about how she learned martial arts and how she had a passion for photography. You followed her Tumblr page of her photos. She offered you great advice and gave you a reason to not talk to the other girls in your class. She had quite a bit on her chest so you let her vent to you. She talked with you lots and you two started drifting apart after one of your old friends transferred back. Maki let you know that it wasn’t you though, it was your friend who was toxic. You met her a year after at a history competition and was pleased to find that she still trusted you. You miss her often when you have no one to talk to.

Sukuna as the classmate that I never talked to. You heard rumours about him, ghosting girls, not wanting to settle down for one person... but you find that he’s actually quite entertaining as a classmate. He doesn’t talk to you much and settles for causing ruckus in the class instead. He always gets on the teacher’s good side and has saved the class from at least 12 science class lectures. He dated an upper classman and had a crush on the popular girl in your class while in that relationship. He also once bet that you’d be able to make a hoop earlier than the other girl and actually won the bet. His family moves around often and he left a year after. He wrote that you would go places in your yearbook before he left. You still wonder how he does from time to time.

Geto as the boy I called dad in high school. He has a resting bitch face, and he’s almost always done with you, but he’s incredibly kind and sweet sometimes. He helps you with homework and he doesn’t hesitate to point out any errors to you. He talks about his shit teachers often and you have to stifle a laugh so you don’t get in trouble with the teacher. He doesn’t have that big of a friend group but knows way to many people for his own good. He’s sweet in his own way, and is always offering you snacks that he brought from home or bought at the cafeteria. He had anxiety and self confidence issues though, and you try to help as much as you can by praising him. He’s lovely, just a bit too much to handle sometimes.

Itadori's the reason I jumped ahead in chinese. Megumi's the reason I have no trouble cutting people who are toxic to me. Inumaki's the reason I turn things in on time and don't procrastinate. Nanami's the reason I bought animal crossing and my switch, and the reason I started talking with my middle school classmates again. Gojo's the reason why I have no trouble speaking up when I have an issue with someone. Nobara's the reason why I got over a pointless crush. Maki's the reason I work hard in school. Sukuna's the reason I get up when I fall down. and Geto's the reason that I survived high school. Each person I've met in my life is more than just a fleeting figure, they are a puzzle piece, and they made me who I am. So yes, I am just a mosaic of everyone I loved, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

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scathecraw · 3 years

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BBRae Week 2021 - Day 3: Into The Woods

“Summer camp has been so much fun, Rachel. Teether hasn’t cried once since the day after you dropped us off, and Tommy got first place in the obstacle course. You were right, we should have done a camp last year, too.” Melvin chattered excitedly on the office phone while Rachel listened patiently. “They’ve made a bunch of arts and crafts, and the woods here are so cool. They’re really old, and Gar knows so muchabout all the trees and animals and bugs.”

“And who is this Gar, Melvin? A new friendof yours?” Rachel’s emphasis was obvious, and Melvin’s blush was practically audible.

“NO! He’s a counselor. He’s really nice, but he’s really old. Like, 50 or something. You’ll meet him on parent’s day next week.”

Rachel didn’t remember anyone older than the director, a middle aged woman she had spoken to when getting them enrolled and again during drop-off. She suspected Melvin was fibbing to cover her embarrassment, but she brought it on herself by teasing the preteen. “I’m sure I will. Does this mean that you’re going to drag me out into the forest when I come? I thought it was going to be an afternoon of arts and crafts and then some campfire songs, not a forced march.”

“Duh. Arts and crafts are lame. Gar said that next year he’d show us how to whittle, which sounds better than making lanyards.” There was muffled adolescent shouting, and Melvin covered the receiver and yelled back. “I gotta go. We’re going swimming. I’ll call you on Friday. Love you, bye.” She hung up before anything could be said back, and Rachel was left with dead air while Melvin sprinted after her friends, untied shoelaces flailing behind her.

Arriving at the aforementioned “Parent’s Day”, Rachel wasn’t quite sure what to expect. The camp had at first seemed like a good way to get the three adopted children outside instead of rotting their brains, but the sheer noise of a few dozen milling, clamoring kids and groups of socializing parents made her wonder what she had subjected them, and by extension, herself, to. She was late, which probably didn’t help the situation, but she looked around the chaos in an effort to find her own three chaos engines. Instead, she was spotted.

A wild, dirty missile made a high-volume impact with her legs, nearly toppling her and babblingso fast that even Rachel’s practiced ear couldn’t discern what he was saying. She was wobbling and about to fall over when a firm hand caught her upper back and helped her regain her balance. “Teether, dude! I said you could go get her, not try to body slam her.”

Rachel finally planted her feet, acknowledged Teether with a gentle hand on his head, and looked up. And up. They both froze for an instant, but the tanned, blond man recovered first. His slack jaw snapped into a smile, and he said “Hi. You must be Rachel. I’m Gar, one of the counselors here.”

His hand was still on her back and heat radiated from it like afternoon sun. Her face had never fallen into the silly expression his had, but unconscious thought raced before she could regain her composure. ‘Definitely not fifty,’ she thought. “Hello. Yes, I’m Rachel, Teether’s mother.” She peeled Teether from her leg with practiced ease, and he sprang off of her and ran.

Gar realized that his hand still rested behind her, almost possessively, and retreated to a more respectable distance. He chuckled, nervously. “Heh. Um, Melvin and Tommy are with their friends, still, but we should probably get them. Ms. Waller asked me to show you around – she said you had just moved to the area?” It wasn’t a question, but he phrased it like it was. They began walking back towards the milling crowd of parents, children, and quite possibly enough noise to drown out a jet engine.

“Yes, it’s our first summer here. She mentioned that most of the kids made this an annual activity, but I didn’t think we’d be so strange as to warrant a personal detail.”

“Oh it’s nothing like that, it’s just that there’s not really many other summer camps around, and ‘cause we go from K-12, we get pretty much everyone. A lot of the other parents already know everybody. You’re not strange, just… new.” His eyes never left her, even as they began walking.

Back with the crowds, Melvin and a gaggle of similarly aged girls watch the two of them. One of them nodded decisively and turned to Melvin. “Okay. They’re too cute together. Look at how awkward they’re being.”

Anotherhuffed a little. “They’re just staring at each other. They should be holding hands or something, right?”

Melvin’s eyes narrowed critically. “It’s been like 10 minutes and they aren’t kissing yet. Gar’s probably too much of a nerd to do anything. We need to do something to make sure they know how perfect for each other they are.”

“Like what? They aren’t going to start making out in the middle of the crowd.”

An evil smirk crept across Melvin’s face. “Maybe not in the middle of the crowd, but what if they were all alone in the woods? Then they’d have no excuse not to!”

A look of awe crossed her companions’ faces. “That’s evil. I love it.”

But the smirk fell, half-formed plot evaporating. “But how could we get them out there alone? It can’t be anything serious, or else Rachel will ground me forever, and I bet she won’t even go unless we can trick her into it.”

“Could you just tell her you feel sick?”

“No.” Melvin shook her head slowly. “Then she’d either stay with me or just take me home early.”

One, heretofore silent, chimed in. “I think I know what we can do. But Mel, you’re going to have to make a lanyard.” She giggled at the disgusted look, and said “C’mon, we only have like 15 minutes before they start wondering where we are.”

Across the crowd and a million miles away, Garfield and Rachel were, in fact, being tremendously awkward as they watched the kids run and play. Gar fumbled his words and couldn’t decide to stare at her eyes, the curve of her neck, or decidedly anywhere except her. Rachel was the opposite. She answered in short, monosyllabic whispers and swallowed, trying to ease her desperately dry throat.

“So, uh, you said you just moved here! Do you have a job, er, of course you do, unless you don’t! That’s fine, too! Nothing wrong with… that. Yeah.” He trailed off, before gamely trying again. “So what do you do when you’re not, y’know, coming to summer camps?”

Rachel took a deep breath and centered herself. Gar started. “I’m not, like, annoying you, am I? I’m sorry, I tend to blabber -”

“No. I’m just… a little off-kilter. I’m a curator of antiquities at the museum.”

“That is so cool. Gar’s eyes were like dinner plates. “I love the museum! I always wanted to volunteer there, but I never feel like I have time between summers here and planning classes during the year.”

“Oh, you’re a teacher? Grade school or high school?”

“High school and occasionally some classes at the community college. I figured I was already teaching AP and college bio isn’t much different. I’m sure the kids get tired of me after the sixth year, though, heh.” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, uncomfortably warm even for a summer afternoon.

“I suppose they wouldn’t let you teach so many years if you weren’t good at the job. Not that biology is my area of expertise.” She clarified, hearing his unspoken question. “I studied history and preservation, so a natural history museum is certainly a big change.”

“Wow, I bet. Still, nobody does what they expected to when they were in college. I got a bachelor’s in Environmental Science, but it turns out most of those jobs are just telling corporations what they want to hear.”

Rachel leveled him with a newly assessing gaze. “Believe it or not, so are quite a few jobs in archaeology. It’s what put me off of the field.”

“But hey, teaching led me to Jump and to Lake Titan Camp, so I can’t complain.”

While the two nominal adults conversed, a far more intricate conversation was happening in the craft cabin. Kole, a pink haired co-conspirator of Melvin’s, was creating a half finished lanyard in pink and purple while the rest strategized. “Okay, so I need to throw her off so she’ll agree. The pink and purple color scheme is good – pink for me, purple for her, but I need something to knock her off her game.”

“You could tell her something that surprised her, maybe. But what?”

Realization dawned. “Okay. This is a little mean, maybe, but I was planning on talking to her about it anyway. I know just what to say. Kole, how’s the lanyard coming?”

“I’ve got it to the perfect length. Just long enough that you might ‘Need a little while to finish it, pretty please.’” She held up the dangling lengths of string. “Everything ready? We’re running out of time.”

“Now or never. Let’s go.” Melvin took a deep breath and led them to the doorway.

Garfield and Rachel were deep in conversation. The initial awkwardness had faded, and while there were still sparks flying whenever they made eye contact, it was more a static buzz than the almost painful live wire sensation of their first glances. At some point they had migrated closer to where Teether and Tommy’s two groups had merged into a supercrowd of children all making noise, forcing them to stand closer to one another to be heard. They were in this huddle, all focus on each other except for both of their frequent check-in glances to the children. Rachel had dipped her toe into a hint of vulnerability to test the waters, quietly and without fanfare explaining that she had adopted all three of them from the same orphanage she had found herself aging out of.

Gar reciprocated. “That’s really incredible. I was adopted pretty young by some family friends. I know how complicated that sort of relationship can be, but it’s doing something amazing for all three of them.”

Melvin, seeing their closeness, hesitated, just a bit. She was messing with fate, a little. But she was certain it was for a good cause. And it was now or never, they were already cutting it close to “Shared Activity Time” for her age group. “Umm. Rachel.”

“Yes, Melvin?” Rachel saw that Mel was nervous. Melvin was never nervous.

“I want to finish a project for you, but won’t have time later. So, uh, I need you to find something else to do. During the Activity Time, I mean. I just want to finish making this. Please, M-mom?”

Time stopped for Rachel. She had adopted them six years ago, and there had never been a time when Melvin had consciously called her “Mom”. Forms asking for “Mother’s Name”, sure. Mother’s day celebrations, absolutely. Even a few mostly-asleep, teary pleas, but never, never while Melvin was in control of her faculties.

But while time had stopped for Rachel, it marched onward for everyone else. Melvin held her breath and waited for long, tense seconds, but Rachel didn’t seem to be coming back to her senses, so she hurriedly spat out “Okayloveyouseeyousoon,” and fled back to the safety of her friends.

Gar, too, was frozen. Not to the same degree, nor for the same reasons, but he felt like he had intruded on something intimate that he had no business being a part of. He looked around, helplessly as Rachel gaped. After several seconds of silence, he couldn’t not do something. “Uhh. Rachel? You… okay?” More frozen immobility. He waved a hand in front of her face. “Rae? You there? Do I need to get a doctor?”

She seized his hand. “Did… did she just call me “Mom”? Or did I have a stroke?”

“Yeah, ouch. She did. I’m guessing this was new?”

“I… Yes. She’s never… What… what do I do? Was she angry I didn’t answer? Where did she go?” Rachel began looking around for her.

“Whoa, slow down. She’s with her friends. She wasn’t mad, it seemed like she was nervous, but not scared. And what you do is let her come to you and talk to her like you always do, and just make sure she knows you’re okay with it. As long as you are okay with it, right?”

“Of course. I just thought...” Rachel trailed off.

“Then there’s nothing to worry about! She loves you and just told you how she feels. That’s a good thing. Let’s give her a chance to do whatever she’s doing. The rest of the kids are about to go do an activity, so we have time.”

“I think I need to get away from the crowd for a minute. I can’t believe I’m asking this, but is it alright if we just go for a walk?”

“Of course.” Gar’s grip had at some point shifted to be holding her hand back, and he led her down a dirt path towards a grove of trees. “This path is quiet and not too hard.” Her sudden harsh look had him follow up. “You’re not really wearing the shoes for hiking, Rae.”

“Hmf. And since when did I say you could call me Rae, Garfield?”

He looked stricken. “I am so sorry. I dunno what I was thinking, Ra-chel. Rachel.”

She narrowed an eye. “Rae is… acceptable, as far as diminutives go. Just don’t make a habit of it in public.”

“Cross my heart. Hey, at least being a little mad at me put your mind off of Melvin, right?”

“And now it’s right back. So very helpful,” she deadpanned.

“Easy come, easy go, right?” His smile grew a little. “I don’t wanna pry or anything, but is it really that surprising? She said you were her mom like, a dozen times during camp.”

“I suppose not. It caught me very off-guard, though. Teether and Tommy sort of switch between Rachel and Mom, but Melvin’s never really seemed like she even wanted that sort of, I don’t know, ‘Official’ title for me.”

“Listen, the whole ‘mom’ thing isn’t as scary as you’re making it out to be. You’re already giving her the kind of love a mom is supposed to, and she loves you. She talks about all the time with stars in her eyes. Being adopted doesn’t make her less your daughter. Rita Farr isn’t any less my mom for taking me in when I was eight, and Marie Logan isn’t any more or less important to me just because she’s not around.”

Rachel took a breath and sighed it out. “Thank you. That does make it easier.” They walked in silence for a short time. “Wait, Rita Farr, as in the movie star? As in, the philanthropist and art collector, married to Steve Dayton?”

He blushed a little. “Whoops, probably shouldn’ta dropped that so casually, I guess. Yeah. Steve and Rita adopted me when my parents died. It’s not always easy, but I love ‘em.” He watched her reaction carefully, hoping she wouldn’t suddenly start treating him differently for having such well-known parents.

Rachel schooled her face after having that bombshell dropped on her. “Well, if we ever meet we’ll be able to talk about some historic pieces she has that I wrote papers on.”

A beat passed, then Gar’s loud laugh broke relative silence of the forest. “Aw man, she is gonna love you.”

And just like that, the tension was broken. All the concern, the lack of balance, everything fell away, and the static buzz of easy conversation punctuated by something just a little too close to intimate for an average friendship was back.

They wandered together down the shady paths, miles away and only a few trees distant from the campground. Rachel didn’t notice the distance she had walked on the formerly dreaded forest hike, and Garfield forgot to try quite so hard with his jokes and wise cracks. They walked, hand in hand and only somewhat realizing how close they were to one another, shoulders nearly touching.

The spell was eventually broken, as they always are. They rounded a final bend, seeing in the distance the campground they had left, what, less than an hour ago? And the reality that they had left behind when they entered the sun-shafted canopies woke them up, and they found that really, their hands were quite slick. Had they been clasped together the whole time? And Rachel, especially, was starting to sweat from the heat and the walk. Garfield was suddenly nervous, after all, he never talked this much, not without making a fool of himself.

But even after emerging from that hazy dream, they held on, gently rising out of the fog and into the real world so no sudden movements could disrupt the memory, the closeness that two almost strangers that fit together like complementary puzzle pieces had shared.

It wasn’t even fully dispelled when their hands slipped apart to be wiped on cargo shorts or dark jeans, though the almost hidden flight from behind a few low-branched trees of blonde hair and untied shoelaces and quiet giggle quickly sobered them.

Garfield turned. “Was that -?”

“Melvin. Oh, that little brat, she is too damn smart for her own good. I would put money on her scheming to get us alone.” Rachel fumed and her face tightened into a mask of cold anger. “I can’t believe that she would manipulate me like this! How could she – How could she finally call me -” and the mask broke, shifting from anger to near tears in seconds.

Gar panicked. “Whoa, hold on, no. She’s not that cruel, I know it and so do you. We’re probably missing something. You just said you can’t believe she would do this – she probably didn’t. Rae I promise you, there’s got to be an explanation that makes sense.”

Rachel took a deep breath, followed by another, centering herself. “I am going to get to the bottom of this. Where would she be doing this “project” she made up?”

“The craft cabin. I’ll take you there, but I guarantee you it’s not as bad as it might sound.”

It was like the crowd parted for them without even reacting. No one looked at the worried counselor or at the steely featured parent, but nonetheless they found their path almost unimpeded. Gar held up a hand just outside the door. “Let me get you two some privacy. Please.”

“Fine. Do it.” Terse and unhappy, Rachel’s displeasure was apparent in her voice, and it made Garfield wince.

He opened the door to see five preteen girls, huddled and tittering. At least until they saw him and his serious frown. Then their eyes went wide, and they looked to Melvin in a panic. “Out, girls. Clear the room. Not you, Melvin.” He stopped her when she tried to take shelter in the middle of the pack. He turned to follow them, and glanced back almost pityingly, then shook his head and exited.

The girls all ducked their heads when they saw Rachel just outside the cabin and hurried off, racing to be the first around the corner and away from the ticking time bomb.

Garfield simply nodded, and left her to it. Rachel entered the cabin and saw Melvin almost trembling, and it broke her heart. She had worked up a head of steam on the walk and the wait, but seeing her precious daughter actually afraid stopped any real anger and left only a bitter emptiness.

Rachel wasn’t quite sure what to do with her hands. She settled on a vague, open armed shrug gesture. “Why, Mel? Was it just a prank? Just a way to manipulate me?”

Tears brimmed in Melvin’s eyes. “No, I just wanted to give you guys a chance to talk alone. I’m sorry I lied, I really did try on the lanyard, but I’m just bad at them so I had Kole do it. I’m sorry, I am.”

“What? What lanyard? Melvin, I don’t care if you had a friend help with a lanyard! I just can’t believe that you would call me your mom, just to trick me into talking to someone. I can’t tell you how badly that hurts me. I… I love you too much for that.”

“What!No, nononono, Mom, I promise that wasn’t a trick. I promise. I was gonna talk to you about it, but I just – I thought that if I – I thought that maybe if I just did it you’d just let me and maybe you’d talk to him and then it everything would be perfect. I promise. I love you, Mom. I do. And I was just trying to maybe make you not spend all your time watching me and talk to him. He’s really cool, and I could tell you like him, and he’s completely in love with you, and you’re perfect for each other. I was just trying to help you be happy!” She sobbed, breathless.

Rachel froze, then instinctively wrapped her daughter in her arms and let her cry. “Mel, you don’t need to worry about me. I am happy, I promise. I don’t need you to try to trick me into being happy. Hey, it’s okay. I’m not going to say I’m not mad, but I get it. You don’t have to trick me into talking to, what did you call him, “really old, like 50 years old” guys? If we talk, we talk. That’s how adults work.”

“No, it’s not! I’ve never seen you go on a date, and you just ignore people when they try to talk to you. I know it was dumb, but I had to try something ‘cause otherwise you’d just give him that serious face until he ran away, and he’s perfect for you if you’d just give him a chance!”

“Mel. Mel, okay. I promise. I will give him a chance. But you don’t need to be worried about me. I don’t need a twelve year old playing matchmaker. You should be doing kid things, not bad romcom plots.”

“*SNRK*. They’re not bad. They’re sweet. And you like them, otherwise you wouldn’t have so many of them.” She wiped her nose with the back of her hand and glowered.

Rachel internally cursed Kori. “If you say so. Now let’s sit here for a minute, then we can go wash your face and you can go hand out with your friends. And I will have a talk with Garfield, and you will not stick your nose into my dating life. Understand?”

“Yes, mom.”

It still startled Rachel to hear that coming from Melvin, but it also warmed her heart. She hadn’t even known she wanted it until it happened, but it was like a spoken guarantee that she really was doing things right, and her little family really was working.

They sat together and Melvin showed her the lanyard that she had made via Kole. Rachel put it on the silver chain she wore around her neck and let it rest beside her heart promising mostly to herself that it would be kept safe at home. Then, when Mel had calmed down, they headed to the bathroom where Mel cleaned the tear tracks from her dirt-smudged face and rinsed her red rimmed eyes. Rachel gave her a final kiss on the forehead, and sent her off.

Gar found her standing there, staring off into space against the wall of the concrete shack. He leaned against it and slid down to sit around the corner and next to her. “So.”

“So,” she said back.

“Not saying it just to confuse you?” He glanced at her, gauging her reaction.

“No. But she wasn’t against confusing me.”

His eyebrow cocked. “Not mad?”

“Still mad. Still going to be grounded, probably. But she did it out of love.”

“Y’know, I don’t want to say I told you so, but...”

“But you totally want to say ‘I told you so,’” she finished for him.

“Yep. So what now?”

“Now, I guess I do what I was going to do before we had all this to deal with,” she said, the soul of nonchalance.

“What’s that?” he said, and when she didn’t respond, he stood up and looked around the corner. “Rae?”

“This.” with only his head around the corner, she turned and kissed him, gentle and sweet, and far too short for either of them. “I’d like to go out sometime. I want to take you to a behind the scenes at the museum, and I’ll let you choose the restaurant.”

His head spun and his eyes were out of focus. His thoughts were like molasses and he could barely get out the word “Okay.” before she was gone, a little bounce in her step.

AO3 FF.net

#bbraeweek21 #bbrae #fic

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woniepop · 3 years

Text

girly girls

Pairing: Kang Taehyun x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.3K

Warnings: bullying, cursing

Genre: slice of life; fluff; angst

Summary: Three times a popular girl and a nerd were enemies, and one time where they weren’t

a/n: this fic was inspired by my all time favorite movie, Legally Blonde. I enjoyed writing this fic and I really hope you enjoy reading it :)

Y/N L/N has never been someone who liked to be cast in the shadows. Always being the center of attention, y/n has become one of the, if not the most, popular girls in her town. Homegirl is always dressed like an icon even when doing mundane tasks. Girls like her have never really been into anything “nerdy.” She associates herself with more of the bimbo kind, if you will. It was never really a secret, but she studies incredibly hard to get the chance to go to her dream school and become a great computer scientist. Being in such a large friend group of female fashion icons, there was never really anyone who wanted to talk about topics with math or computer science.

Kang Taehyun, however, is this awkward and incredibly smart boy. Never really associated with popularity, he’s only had about four friends in his life and absolutely no dating experience. He’d always been one to shy away from attention. At most times, he found himself quietly observing others. All this, and he’s still what you would consider the teacher’s pet. He gets all his assignments done, A’s on every test, and raises his hand for every question. As a computer science enthusiast, he has worked his butt off his entire life, filling his schedule with robotics clubs, different languages of code, and coding camps. Senior year was his year. He had finally got into his dream school, TXT Tech, and had already created a very very detailed plan for the future.

Currently, Y/n’s mother was constantly trying to persuade her about fashion school. Having an incredibly fashionable mom wasn’t always the best for situations like these. TXT Tech results were coming out, and even though Y/n was confident she was getting in, there’s still the chance she might have not. Nervously waiting in front of her laptop, she sits impatiently refreshing the page for her results. Within one sentence she hops up from her chair in awe. Obviously attending the school was going to be a big turning point for her, and she was so excited to have been admitted to TXT Tech.

As Y/n got settled on campus, she finds no one else that looks like her. Obviously, because she stands out, all attention is drawn to her. She’s confident, stylish, and hot. In a sea of gray and tan business outfits, Y/n wears a nice pink pantsuit. She’s relishing in all the attention, not seeming to mind that it’s not good, because she knew she looked good.

Her first encounter with Taehyun couldn’t have gone worse. Walking to her class, pink drink in hand, she struts confidently to the lecture hall for her computer engineering class. Not paying attention to where she was going, she bumps into a tall figure. This clearly wasn’t the best way you could go about your first day, but all Y/n could do was apologize.

“I’m so sorry, sir. I didn’t see where I was going and-” she rambled. Pausing in the middle of looking up, a very handsome and slightly awkward boy stands there, obviously pissed off and very annoyed. He scoffs and continues on his way to his next class.

Her second encounter with Taehyun was not great either. Clicking her high heels against the floor, she walks to her first class of the day. She had to get there early, she always had to sit in the front of the class. Taehyun on the other hand, nose buried deep in his book, walks directly to the middle. Despite loving programming, he could only handle so much attention. The class had started off well for Y/n, reviewing the class syllabus of “Principles of Programming Languages.” Taehyun, however, was pissed. He had not been called on once and was so frustrated.

“Y/n, can you tell me the five most commonly used languages of code?” the professor asks smugly. Y/n knew what he was doing. She was being set up. She knew he thought she didn’t know and that lit a fire in her.

“Python, Java, Javascript, C#, and C” she answers confidently. Hearing this, the professor nods his head. He wasn’t expecting that.

Taehyun saw this as a perfect opportunity. His hand shoots up and he comments, “Sir, that’s actually incorrect. C++ is actually more popular because although C has served as the foundation for writing languages like Python and Ruby, C++ is a newer language of code and therefore is compatible with more technology.” Taehyun confidently looks down to wear Y/n sits and smirks. Of course she wouldn’t know that. She’s only the popular rich girl that got in with Daddy’s money. She didn’t actually know anything, right?

It had been a few months since school had started, and finals were just about to come around. For this class’ final, they had to submit a partner project and code a simple game. At this point, it had been very blatantly established that Y/n and Taehyun were enemies. They despised each other. Always competing with each other in class, snickering when the other person got annoyed. It was a silent war between the two of them and everyone could feel the tension in the air. Obviously, it was no surprise they always came up at the top of the class, interchanging the first spot every test. What was surprising, however, was seeing their names together on the partner project roster.

Taehyun was furious. College was supposed to be his bitch, but now he’s acting like Y/n’s bitch. He was so pissed off. Computer science was supposed to be where he had the upper hand. The one place he could feel himself. Where he was finally better than the stupid popular kids. And yet, he’s here, competing with one of them. It wasn’t fair. She was a girly girl, she wore bright colors everyday, she even had a sparkly notebook. How was she so smart? There was no way, it’s just the laws of the universe. You had to choose between looks and intelligence. That’s just what the gods above said. There’s no take backsies.

It’s no secret that Y/n is a fashionable girl and having a female centric hobby isn’t really something applauded at this university. Knowing of Y/n’s insecurities, let’s talk about Taehyun’s. Having always worn non adventurous, boring, clothing, he’s known from the very beginning that Y/n’s beauty has helped her in life. Life is never fair, and it shows. Taehyun never ever got those advantages, and now here he is competing with someone just as smart as him.

As his jealousy grows in the back of his mind, he decides to use this time to take revenge. The next few days are spent typing away in the library, collaborating and researching for hours upon hours. Knowing that this project was worth 40% of their grade, they spent all their time trying to make this game perfect.

The day of the presentation of their near perfect game rolls around and Y/n was confident. She had spent countless nights coding this with Taehyun and on her own. Starting the presentation off, Taehyun pulls up a game completely different to the one Y/n coded with him. “In this day and age, gaming has become a hobby more popular than it’s ever been. With platforms like twitch and youtube, all different types of games can catch the eyes of a wide audience. With this in mind, I’d like to present to you Jackbox Party Pack 8. Roleplay games have become the genre of choice for many gamers to play, and viewers to watch.”

This was not the first person shooter Y/n had coded with him. What was he doing? Y/n stood there, not really knowing what to say. Opening and closing her mouth, she couldn’t form any words. She should have known this was a set up. “Ms. L/n, please continue.” The professor says. She couldn’t. She felt like she was frozen. She was so embarrassed and she should’ve seen it coming. With cheeks welling up in her eyes, she runs out of the classroom.

With a smirk, Taehyun continued on, explaining how the game worked and how he had coded it. He had spent the past few nights coding it by himself and he was incredibly proud. Paying no mind to Y/n, he stood tall and smiled throughout his entire presentation. Obviously, like any normal person, guilt started growing quickly in the back of his mind. He finally realized he had fucked up.

Running after Y/n, Taehyun felt incredibly guilty. He had taken the competition too far, and now he’d made someone innocent fail a required class. After running for what felt like hours, he found Y/n crying under a tree. He knelt down and offered her some tissues. Aggravated, she smacks the tissues away and tells him to leave.

Y/n, on the other hand, felt so angry. How could he do this to her? She hadn’t done anything wrong, and if he didn’t like the way she dressed or the way she conducted herself that was fine. All she needed was her to believe in herself and that got her into TXT Tech. While thinking about all the ways she could end Taehyun, she feels arms wrap around her. They’re 🤮Taehyun’s. Before she can rip his arms off, he speaks up.

“Look Y/n, I’m really sorry about that whole thing I pulled back there. I’ll talk to the professor and give him the real project. I really took it too far and I’ll do anything to make it up to you.” He begs.

“Um,, no? I don’t care? That was literally so embarrassing. If you really wanted to make it up to me you’d leave me alone.” Y/n pushes him off her harshly and storms off. How dare he? It probably took his two seconds to come up with that half assed apology. This was unbelievable.

Y/n started trudging through the grass back to her dorm. All she wanted to do was take a warm shower and cry in her bed. She hated everyone. She wanted him to suffer just as much as she did, but she couldn’t do that.

After two whole days of sobbing in her bed, she decided she was craving her signature pink drink. She really didn’t feel like going out, but delivering one drink would cost like $15. Y/n throws on a casual pink outfit. It’s very different from what she wore at the beginning of the school year, but the one thing that never changed was the color pink. Even in her depressive mood, she still wanted to dress up. She felt most comfortable wearing stylish clothing, that was her home.

Stepping into the store, she sees Taehyun sitting at a table alone. You know when you see old people sitting along and you feel so bad for them you start tearing up? Like what if they lost their spouse or something :(((((. So anyway, Taehyun gives her lonely old people energy and regardless of what he did to her, she decides to keep him company.

“Hey, um, can i sit here?” Y/n asks. Taehyun was so surprised. She wanted to sit with him? But he was so mean to her? He nodded his head and sat quietly. The past two days she could tell Taehyun had done a lot of thinking. She could tell he did it because he felt threatened. That wasn’t enough to forgive him, but at least she was being nice about it.

Taehyun gets up and leaves. He comes back with a pink drink in hand, maybe as an apology. “I really want to apologize to you again, Y/n. Yesterday I don’t know if you saw, but the professor graded the actual project instead, and I had told him everything and that I’d deserve it if he failed me instead.” Y/n wanted to be happy but she wasn’t. She didn’t want him to fail after helping her code the game with her. Maybe she was so nice to him because she had matured, or maybe because she felt something different in Taehyun. Even so, a little embarrassment, she thought, wasn’t enough to cause a person to fail their whole class. Holding his hand on the table, she nods, a silent way she decided to forgive him.

“Well, at least we’re not the worst team. I think group 7 coded a Niki Minaj roblox world.” Taehyun jokes.

She laughs. “That’s so funny, what the heck? I guess we just have some hardcore barbs in this class.” People like Taehyun and people like Y/n were never meant to be friends in the first place, but maybe now they were starting to. Y/n, who was always challenging the term “girly girl.” Who always stressed that you have to believe in yourself when the rest of the world is against you. Y/n who became successful, without changing who she was. Y/n, who was feminine and wanted to show that was never a weakness. And Taehyun, who was always unadventurous. Who was never into fashion but still managed to pull off his nerdy outfits with his cute face. The passionate Taehyun whose only hobby seemed like studying. Gossiping for hours at the cafe, they realized this. They were starting to become friends. No one ever expected them to even be able to hold a friendly conversation, but here Y/n was, challenging everyone again.

#txt x reader #txt fanfic #kang taehyun #taehyun x reader #taehyun fanfic #taehyun x y/n #kang taehyun x reader #taehyun headcanons #taehyun fluff #taehyun angst #taehyun au #txt taehyun #txt fluff #txt angst #txt reactions #txt headcanons

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athena-is-a-chaotic-lil-shit · 3 years

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Getting back at writing, is, well, hard. My grammar and vocabulary and basically everything is messed up so I apologize in advance for that. It's been, almost a year ever since my last written fic. That time I was still crazy with Kimetsu no Yaiba and the KyoTan ship. I'll post it some other time ^^.

Anyways, I present to you my attempt in making a plotted work from a random thought that came over me this morning.

Pairing: Tai'chi Kashharzol (Orc) x Pearl Blackbell (Human OC/Reader)

Warnings: Basically none. Except for some curse words.

UD 01/10/21: Cleaned and revised some parts! Tried my best, hope it was enough.

•

Of Ice and Blood

Part 1

Quick backstory and some details I left out in the main work.

It was in summer, 28th of July, when Pearl Blackbell turned 19. She left her home and moved closer to the university she’ll be going to. She rented an apartment about five blocks from the school. Albeit small, it was cozy and proper, having what she needed: a kitchen, a decent-sized bedroom, a small living area with a worn but comfy couch, and a bathroom.

When she was younger, her parents started training her in martial arts and the use self-defense weapons. They needed to make sure she knew how to protect herself against assaulters and dangerous people, she was after all, their only child and baby girl . They want their daughter to be strong, both inside and outside, by the time she sets out on her own and leaves home.

Her favorite self-defense weapon was brass knuckles, despite her parents’ protests. She enjoys punching nasty people and feel the crunch of their bones beneath her fists, especially racists, sexists, bullies, and the lot. The main reason why she got into detention multiple times.

Painting it with a ruddy color, she keeps it in her person, no matter where she goes. She has two, one is for extreme situations, while the other has only two knuckles. It stills maximizes the damage dealt but it is relatively less dangerous than the full dusters. The second one is usually a spare, though she rarely uses it.

She also occasionally carries a pair of retractable nunchucks, which she designed to be hidden within her regular baggy clothes. Her father had trained her vigorously with them and she even bested him in a match before she left for the city.

Selkoth, the city of marvels.

Distant sounds of buzzing cars reached my ears as I opened my eyes and blinked away the sleepiness, the light shining from the spaces in my curtains rather helping, together with the warmth it brought to my chilled tawny skin.

[Start of the actual work]

I fully woke up as I registered the sound of my phone alarm, shortly getting up to prepare when I realized what day it was.

Monday, the first day of my college life.

I stepped into the bathroom and took a quick shower, knowing I bathed thoroughly last night to save some time today.

Time management is key.

I dried myself down, turned to my closet and started putting on the outfit I picked out the night before.

Prioritizing comfortability over appearance, I wore my favorite orange cotton shirt, my blackish-blue hoodie (that had been stained with blood some time ago, but don’t worry, I know how to clean out blood. Mama raised no fool.) over it, together with a pair of black skinny jeans. And of course, tight black sports bra and boxers, even mentioning my underwear yes?

I looked over to my mirror and it was—

Simple. And I loved it. The more simple it is the better.

'“Keep a low profile over there, sweetie. Don’t get into fights when you can help it okay??? We already taught you and prepared you to the best of our abilities. Promise to us that you’ll stay safe, and healthy. Okay? And don’t forget to call sometime.”' I sighed, remembering my mother’s words.

"Yes mama, I will.”

With a smile, I did my hair and went for a tight Dutch braid, it going down between my shoulder blades and ending a little above my waist. I ran to my kitchen to eat breakfast, satisfied with my look.

I eat fast okay

Backpack, check. White sneakers, check. Phone and keys, check. Airpods on, playlist shuffled, I bolted out of my apartment and jogged all 50 blocks to school.

Exercise is always important, and what other way to utilize time for exercising than to do it while heading to your destination, right?

I snickered.

As I made my way to the university, I saw bizarre creatures and monsters of different sizes, coexisting, and interacting with humans. Even so, I noticed other people’s disdain and bitterness towards them when I passed by. My nose is awfully sensitive to scents that sometimes the ones their body releases tells me what they feel at the moment. It’s all science, I guess. I was made extra susceptible to these, so I wear a mask everywhere and every time I go out just to partly block most of the smells.

My first day at a university open to everyone across the country gets my blood pumping with excitement. To think that I’m going to study at Ernestine State University, the Ernestine State University!

I first heard about the uni back when I was a child. News broke out about Victor Ernestine, committing suicide by driving his car off a cliff because he couldn’t accept that his daughter was one of the major leaders who made the unity of all people, of all races, possible.

Dramatic.

Months after Mr. Ernestine died, all his properties and riches were passed down to her daughter, who took over as the new founder of the university and rebuilt it to accommodate everyone, no matter the size and shape.

The strictly all-human school, renovated, reshaped, and repurposed, was now the first university to open its gates to everyone in the country of Yundomia.

I’ve always yearned to get to know other species in this world. I didn’t get the chance previously because my parents sent me to an all-human, local high school. Which sucks. I hated how everyone had a certain hatred for the other races, especially orcs. They keep talking about how they are wild beasts and savages that aren’t meant to be in society.

They treated them like animals that are void of emotions and intelligence.

Come to think of it, I mostly fought with humans who were either racist, bullies, bastards trying to hit on me, or a mix of all of them together.

I chuckled, remembering how many times I got counseled on not punching people in the face.

High school was pure torture, being a human-exclusive campus making it worse, considering how everybody smells so horrible and the principal was an egoistic dumbass I was a hair away from gutting him. My poor nose.

But now I’m done with that! I’m starting anew in this school, in this city. Perhaps make some friends along the way.

Which is kinda problematic.

I’m not the social type. I tend to keep things to myself and hardly open up to anybody. I wanna make at least one friend that isn’t human! Or just, one good friend. I didn’t have or made any friends in the past since people tend to shun me out just because I can tell how they are feeling and find it creepy.

Or they’re afraid to get punched in the face.

Entering the campus gates was like stepping into another world. I was met with the sight of humans and monsters walking together and conversing! It was nice, and I don’t get to see this much often.

I walked around and took in the landscape of the campus. It was huge! And beautifully designed to have a great number of trees and plants, while also having space more than enough to accommodate every student going to their respective classrooms.

I was minding my own business and it was all serene, until some bastards pushed past through me and knocking me to the side. I stumbled but didn’t fall. I was gonna say something, but I shut my mouth. I didn’t want to cause any trouble on the first day for goodness’ sake. So I brushed it off and went straight to the gym for the orientation.

*************************************

The orientation was, intriguing. The dean seems nice, though I couldn't smell him from where I sat. There's also a student council made up of both humans and monsters which is a good sign. The student council president was a Minotaur with a dark brown coat and horns curving front and pointing up. The vice-president was a male student who looked decent enough. The secretary was an elf. The treasurer, a dwarf. And the rest were humans. I couldn't scent any of them to tell me what they were feeling at the moment, but the Minotaur looked uncomfortable, his hands behind his back, body going stiff when they were introduced to the freshmen. There was a larger numbr of humans than monsters, which was expected. I also noticed how both were grouped, a white line in the middle of the gym separating us from them.

Maybe to avoid any misunderstandings?

We were informed that today will be for introductions to your classmates and subject teachers so there will be no lessons at all. Hooray!

I was walking to my first classroom when a damned familiar smell attacked my nose. I stopped to stand for a moment and adjusted my mask. I looked around to spot the one emitting it and of course, saw a human. He looked, well, the typical playboy cool boy who used too much body spray on himself.

Not wanting to stand there like an idiot and prolong my suffering, I speed walk to my classroom and planned to sit at the back hoping no one would notice or ask why I’m wearing a mask.

That's always what they ask first. Not my name or how I was doing.

I expected to find no one inside since it was still early, but I was startled to see a massive orc sitting at the back looking out at the window. He was wearing a dark gray knitted sweater that was hugging his hulking frame very…well. Along with what looked like thick cargo pants and black boots.

He turned to look at me when I let out a small yelp, greeting me with his piercing, blue eyes.

Beautiful.

The orc had long, braided, jet-black locks. Two of them had distinct beads that trailed down from the side of his face and down to his chest, the rest of his hair behind him braided with intricacy and tied and ended halfway down his back.

I was pushed out of my trance when a person entered and crashed into me, swearing under my breath that it was intentional, nearly making me plant face-first on the trash bins if I hadn’t changed my footing at the last moment.

“Watch it, bitch, you’re gonna ruin my make-up,” she snapped.

Wow. She dared to call me that and not apologize like I’m the one who shoved her. Just wow. Usually at this point, I would have planted her face on the floor, but I stopped myself.

Low profile! Low profile Pearl! You’re in college now! You definitely don’t want to get suspended on the first fucking day of class now do you?? Keep it together.

Straightening up, I walked towards the back and sat beside the orc. Whose gaze fell on me, curious, when I wasn’t looking.

I made myself settled in my seat before the professor came in.

There were other races in my class. A blue tiefling sat three rows in front, wearing a casual outfit. A black-haired elf who looked and dressed clever, a row away. A cute pink pixie on my far right. A satyr wearing glasses, two seats in front of me, and a female lizardfolk a seat from of the pixie.

"Are you...alright?"

I almost jumped from my seat when the orc beside me spoke. I couldn’t help but admire how deep his voice was. I tried not to appear flustered, my mask helped with that.

“Uh…yes?”

The orc regarded me for a second before continuing.

“You were pushed earlier.”

Oh. He saw that?

“Oh, yeah, I’m okay.” I smiled at him. Then I remembered he can’t see my face. But I hoped the crinkling of my eyes gave it away.

“I’m Pearl, by the way.” I reached out my hand to him, socializing not my best suit but at least I tried.

He paused for a second before taking it into his bigger one, engulfing mine and shook it slowly. I was again, surprised by how gentle he was.

“Tai'chi.”

Interesting.

“Nice to meet you, Tai'chi.”

He lets go of my hand when the professor started talking up front.

“Nice to meet you too, Pearl."

***************************************

Thoughts? I am wide open for constructive criticism :D

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Check pinned post for latest chapter updates💕

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lilydalexf · 3 years

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Old School X is a project interviewing X-Files fanfic authors who were posting fic during the original run of the show. New interviews are posted every Tuesday.

Interview with Tabula Rasa

Tabula Rasa has 8 stories at Gossamer, but there are even more X-Files fics at AO3 and her website. She writes Mulder and Scully in a very lovely way. I've recced 3 of my favorites of her fics here before: Bird in Snow, Fall: East on M St, and Skuamorph. Big thanks to Tabula Rasa for doing this interview.

Does it surprise you that people are still interested in reading your X-Files fanfics and others that were posted during the original run of the show (1993-2002)?

I'm always extremely pleasantly surprised to get kudos (or, very rarely, a comment) on my old fic, but I'm always happy to see it! I did post them all (I think) to AO3. I'm not surprised people are still reading fic, though. It's an iconic show and now with streaming, it's really easy to watch older shows and natural to want fic about them!

What do you think of when you think about your X-Files fandom experience? What did you take away from it?

XF was my first fandom, definitely my first online fandom, and so it will always have a special place in my heart. Also... I had a great time! I stumbled upon and joined the Scullyfic email list by accident, but it was the best thing I could have done. I learned a lot about how to be a writer and how to be in fandom, and those lessons are still important to me. Foundational. Also, in terms of modern fandom drama, XF was more low-key on the drama (although it didn't seem like it at the time!). But I learned something that's always served me well: find like-minded people, and hang out with them. Don't worry about the rest.

Also... you can't control the show, but you kind of can control the canon.

Because of Scully, I ended up taking a forensic anthropology class in university-- and now I have a Master's in a forensic science! Part of the Scully Effect, and proud of it!

Social media didn't really exist during the show's original run. How were you most involved with the X-Files online (atxc, message board, email mailing list, etc.)?

Definitely mostly email list! I never really got the hang of message boards. Posting fic was exhausting, and tbh I never figured out how to work Ephemeral. I checked it every day, though! I loved, after a new episode, everyone sending in their thoughts and reading everyone's experiences together. Fandom was a lot more work back then, tbh!

What did you take away from your experience with X-Files fic or with the fandom in general?

That fic can be just as good, or better, than traditionally published works. There are works of XF fic that have stuck with me for years now, far more than some books I've read. That fan writers can know the characters better than the show writers. The fandom in general was really smart, and mostly more adult than me (I joined fandom when I went away to college, so I always felt at the younger end of the scale. That was good though!).

Also, my first time reading and writing porn. Not gonna lie, I was shocked the first time I accidentally read smut. But I adjusted fast. lol

What was it that got you hooked on the X-Files as a show?

I was still a kid (now we would say preteen) when the show premiered- I think in middle school. But I was already into ghosts, aliens, monsters, solving mysteries, and I'd already imprinted on the dynamic thanks to Square One (really)! I was also just old enough to start developing celebrity crushes. Hilariously, I did not twig to the fact that I'm bisexual the entire time I was in XF fandom, despite having enormous crushes on BOTH Mulder and Scully. Ahhhh!

Also, my whole family was into the show, but I was definitely the one with the hyperfixation. I used to take notes and record the episodes as I watched. It just had the right stuff and hit at the right time. And I've always been obsessive.

What got you involved with X-Files fanfic?

As a kid I also really liked Star Trek, and someone had given my dad a book about the history of Star Trek, which I read. This included mentions of fandom and fanfic. As soon as I had a private-- and perhaps more importantly fast-- internet connection (in college), I went looking for XF fanfic, and that was that. Hooked immediately. Also I shipped them A LOT so that's what I went looking for.

What is your relationship like now to X-Files fandom?

I tend to not go back to a fandom once I have a new fandom, so I wouldn't say I'm in it. I did hang around the edges for the revival, of course, because I wanted to experience that with the same people, but since the revival was mostly not that great (with a few exceptions), I didn't get pulled back into it. But I still think of the people I knew in the fandom a lot, and always hope they're doing well.

Were you involved with any fandoms after the X-Files? If so, what was it like compared to X-Files?

I've never left fandom, and I've been in a BUNCH: Harry Potter, Doctor Who, Bandom, Supernatural, now CQL/The Untamed and other Chinese-media fandoms, with many smaller ones in between or on the side. I feel like at their core fandoms tend to be similar, although where you host the fandom makes a big difference: Livejournal, tumblr, twitter. I think that because fandoms now tend to be bigger and more diverse (which is good) there tends to be more wank (which is bad). In some of them I was close to a group of people, some of them not. Honestly the best thing is when someone you know from an old fandom is in your new fandom. It's so much fun. I have really good friends thanks to fandom, and I've had them for YEARS. Like. 15 years.

Who are some of your favorite fictional characters? Why?

I tend to focus more on ships than characters, but some of my all-time favs: Scully, Hermione, Sirius Black, Castiel, Lan Wangji, Xie Lian. That's just fandom-oriented ones, otherwise we'd be here all day. :D

Do you ever still watch The X-Files or think about Mulder and Scully?

I don't often rewatch episodes any more, although if I come across an ep on tv I might. I definitely still think about them though! For example, I'm a teacher now, and just a couple weeks ago one of my colleagues mentioned he'd heard the students saying they shipped two of their classmates, and he was like "Ship? I don't get it" and I was like "HOO BOY, do I have a story for you!" And I explained how shipping came from XF fandom, and why. That was fun. I definitely still think about Mulder and Scully too-- I mean, they're cultural touchstones, so they do come up sometimes in greater pop culture. Also, I was in Hannibal fandom for a while, and Gillian Anderson is still The Best.

Do you ever still read X-Files fic? Fic in another fandom?

I haven't read XF fic in years, even the ones I remember as being really significant/important to me. I still have my all-time favs saved on an external HD though! Fic in another fandom- every day lol.

Do you have any favorite X-Files fanfic stories or authors?

Blinded by White Light by DashaK has stuck with me. Mr. and Mrs. Smith and the Ruby-Throated Warbler by I forget I'm so sorry -- that's lasted as my ideal post-canon MSR and as an interesting and different way to tell a story. [Lilydale note: It’s by rah.] I was always thrilled to see fic by Brandon, JET, MaybeAmanda, Syntax6... and, frankly, everyone on the Scullyfic/ Emuse list. So many talented people in that fandom!

What is your favorite of your own fics, X-Files and/or otherwise?

Things Outside, which is the only thing I've ever written based on a dream, and I'm really satisfied with it. It was hard to write but so much fun to revel in the weirdness. I always kind of wanted to write more because I know a lot more about the situation, but otoh, I like the open, ambiguous ending (usually I am very HEA).

In other fandoms, King & Country in bandom (MCR) and in Supernatural I'm very proud of Hope and Clay. I struggle to write casefics even though I love to read them, but that one really worked out.

Do you think you'll ever write another X-Files story? Or dust off and post an oldie that for whatever reason never made it online?

I don't think I'll ever write something new. There is an old fic that may be done but it was smut so I was too shy to post it at the time. In theory if I find it and it's decent, I could post it!

Do you still write fic now? Or other creative work?

I do! I write fic very slowly, but I do write still! I have a million ideas for stories, but I'm so slow at the actual writing part.

Where do you get ideas for stories?

I usually take a jumping-off point from canon, or of course, something I need to fix or expand on. Or sometimes I start telling myself a story as I fall asleep and the idea grabs me long enough I can manage to write it.

What's the story behind your pen name?

I was getting into fandom and realized people didn't use their real names. I flipped through my history book looking for inspiration, and decided tabula rasa was a great name for a writer. I tend to add an X because it's rare to get "tabularasa" as a username, and the X is indeed for X-Files (so I'm something like tabulaxrasa most places). I usually go by Tabula Rasa or Tab, though. And I still use it because 1) it IS a great name for a writer; and 2) it's not fandom-specific so I can keep it in every fandom.

I identify with it so much I have answered to this name in class (oops). I have a "Tab" t-shirt (as in the soda, but I have worn it to Comic-Con for ease of ID-- better than a nametag!). And my mom got me a necklace with a "tab" typewriter key as a charm, which I adore. Yes, I have accidental merch of myself.

Do your friends and family know about your fic and, if so, what have been their reactions?

As you can tell from the above, my family knows (my family being my parents and sister). They are supportive! I think my mom read a couple stories? But obviously she has to know the fandom to get it... I got my sister into fic, and we even wrote a couple fics together (in Gundam Wing). She's a lot more selective about fandoms, but she's joined fandoms on her own, too. She's just not in one constantly, like me. :p

I tend not to tell not-online friends unless I have felt them out and know they're super fannish, or they bring it up first.

Is there a place online (tumblr, twitter, AO3, etc.) where people can find you and/or your stories now?

Most of my old fic is now on AO3 and I hang out on twitter a lot, @tabula_x_rasa

Is there anything else you'd like to share with fans of X-Files fic?

I'm really glad people are still in this fandom! It will always be so important to me. Thank you Lilydale, for this nostalgia trip!

(Posted by Lilydale on March 30, 2021)

#old school x #xfiles fanfic #xf fanfic #xf fanfic author interviews #tabula rosa

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365days365movies · 3 years

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February 24, 2021: Annie Hall (1977) (Part 1)

Well...Woody Allen.

I, uh...OK, look, I could get into the whole Woody Allen thing, but INSTEAD of me doing that, I’ll just say this: look into it. Because there is a LOT on this subject, and it’s controversial as HELL. At the end of the day, I’ll recommend this upcoming series on HBO, and just recommend that you look into it.

Because, uh...yeah, it’s not great. That’s all I’m gonna say, because I need to educate myself on it more as well. Instead, let’s talk for a few seconds about divorcing the art from the artist. But ONLY for a few seconds.

I understand why some of you might be surprised I’m doing this one. Because, again...Woody Allen. But, yeah, I always try to do my best to divorce the art from the artist. Because some people suck, but they still make nice things, or at the very least, things that should be open to interpretation and appreciation.

“Superfreak” is a classic song of 1981, and everybody’s heard at least some of it, but Rick James fuckin’ kidnapped two women and kept them in his basement, WHERE HE TORTURED THEM. Edgar Degas made beautiful paintings of ballet dancers, and was also A MASSIVE ANTI-SEMITE. And before he was (RIGHTFULLY AND JUSTIFIABLY) outed as a roofie-ing piece-o-shit...I grew up with - and genuinely enjoyed - this guy’s comedy.

And you can judge me for this, but...I still think his stand-up was and is genuinely funny, and I still appreciate the cultural impact that The Cosby Show had on society’s perception of African-American families, divorced from the stereotype of the ghetto. Fact of the matter is, works themselves deserve to be separated from the artist who made them. That’s my philosophy, and I’m sticking with it Entirely fine to disagree with me, by the way, I get it.

But in that spirit, I’m watching Annie Hall, despite its creators likely transgressions. After all, this is technically his magnum opus, and it’s a good look into the man himself. And so, with that in mind: Annie Hall! SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap (1/2)

youtube

Alvy Singer (Woody Allen) is talking directly to us about his outlook on life, and his view on the potential future. He tells half of a joke, then an amusing anecdote, and a bit more until telling us that he’s broke up with Annie, and he’s still thinking about it, trying to figure out exactly where things went wrong. He goes back to the beginning, which is punctuated with flashbacks.

He grew up in Brooklyn in World War II, and a young Alvy (Jonathan Munk) is with his mother (Joan Newman) at the doctor’s. He’s depressed after learning that the universe will one day end after a period of expansion, and is having his first real existential crisis. I had mine around the same age, actually, went I learned that the Earth will one day get swallowed by the sun. And THEN came the realization that I’d be dead by that point. AND THEN came the realization that I’d die one day, and that was a WHOLE NEW crisis to...anyway.

He grew up under the Coney Island rollercoaster according to him (although his analyst says that he exaggerates), and that’s what he blames for his “nervous personality. He’s also got an active imagination, often blurring fantasy and reality. His Dad ran the bumper cars on Coney Island (a place that I’ve never been, but desperately want to go).

He continues on talking about his former schoolmates, and not really that well. While in class, young Alvy kisses a...little girl...ahem. And then, when reprimanded by the teacher, current Alvy notes that he was always...like that...and he also says this to the little girl, and they talk about Freud’s latency period, and Alvy said he never...had...one...that’s uh...that’s fuckin’ SOMETHING, now isn’t it?

OK, well, shoving that forcefully aside as hard as I can, Alvy wonders aloud on where his classmates now, and one of them says this:

This also involves a little girl saying she’s “into leather,” which is...awkward as FUCK, but WE’RE GONNA MOVE THE FUCK ON. Alvy recounts his paranoia, and was so even after he became a famous comedian (which we say after a VERY good joke about qualifying for the army as a hostage). He speaks to a friend, Rob (Tony Roberts) about potential anti-Semitism from a person in a passersby meeting, then heads to meet Annie.

Annie Hall (Diane Keaton) arrives at a movie theater, late and in a bad mood. The two are late to their intended film, argue briefly, then head to another film that they’ve already seen, The Sorrow and the Pity. In line, they’re in front of a man loudly soliloquizing on film, much to Alvy’s annoyance.

Annie and Alvy continue to argue a bit, while Alvy openly berates the casual film critic. In the middle, he talks to the audience about it, only to be followed by the crtiic himself, who also acknowledges the audience! Huh! Anyway, he’s a professor at Columbia, and starts continuing his line speech, this time on the work of Marshall McLuhan, one of the most important early media theorists ever. And then, Alvy brings out Marshall McLuhan (Marshall McLuhan) to debate him on it, only for Alvy to turn to the audience and wish aloud that life could really be like this!

I’m beginning to understand why people like this film. It’s metacontextual before metacontextuality was really a thing in film. It’s a fourth-wall breaking movie in some fantastic ways. But will it still hold its muster after breaking the fourth wall’s become so commonplace? we’ll see, I guess.

After a showing of the film, the two return home, and Alvy tries to initiate sex. But Annie’s not really into it at the moment, and Alvy complains that they used to have sex all the time, and it’s been a while since. So, I guess that retroactively awkward scene at the school was meant to foreshadow Alvy’s high libido, that will probably cause some conflict in the film. Anyway, Annie notes that Alvy once went through something similar with Allison, his first wife. Who’s Allison? Flashback!

Allison Portchnik (Carol Kane) is a graduate student in political science, working for a campaign that Alvy’s about to perform for. He’s nervous, as he’s going on after another comedian. She comforts him by saying that she thought he was cute, and he does well. But we flash-forward to a night after they’re married, shortly after the death of JFK, which Alvy’s obsessing over, entertaining various conspiracy theories.

However, Allison rightly points out that his obsession is simply a way for him to avoid having sex with her, which mirrors the present-day situation him him and Annie. Flash forward TO Alvy and Annie, and there are just lobsters...everywhere, on the floor in their kitchen. After that commotion, they talk about Annie’s past romances.

And by talk about, I mean they LITERALLY WALK THROUGH her memories. And I gotta say...I fuckin’ love this method of storytelling. One of her previous boyfriends is an actor (John Glover), and his over-dramatic prose sickens Alvy. We see a second marriage of Alvy’s to New Yorker writer Robin (Janet Margolin), who’s dragged him to a stuffy high society party of intellectuals that he has no interest in going to. Same her, Alvy. I bet the caviar’s canned.

He tries to initiate sex with her - in the middle of the party, mind you - and she turns him down. later, when they get to it in their apartment, she’s unable to, uh...reach satisfaction. From there, we flash-forward after that marriage ends to a tennis match with Rob, where he meets one of his mutual friends: Annie Hall.

And for the record, Annie’s pretty obviously got a crush on him, and she’s adorable as fuck. Also, that outfit, real talk...that outfit rules. She offers to give Alvy a list, during which he’s quite worried about her driving, but the two still get along well enough. Annie’s an amateur photographer, during a time period where photography is considered a relatively new art form. The two go to her apartment, and share familial anecdotes and personal stories about themselves. And as they talk, we also see a set of subtitles on top of each of them that betray their inner feelings and thoughts.

I do genuinely like the stylings of the movie, goddamn. This conversation leads to Alvy asking her out on a date, although they end up scheduling it after Annie auditions at a nightclub as a singer. And while it doesn’t go great, Alvy tells her she was fantastic, and they share a kiss before they head to dinner. They head to her place afterwards, and we cut to later that night, post-coitus.

And then, we get a flash-forward back to the next day, where the two are at a bookstore, and Alvy speaks on his personal philosophy of life.

I'm obsessed with uh, with death, I think. Big - big subject with me, yeah. I have a very pessimistic view of life. You should know this about me if we're gonna go out. You know, I - I feel that life is - is divided up into the horrible and the miserable. Those are the two categories, you know. The - the horrible would be like, um, I don't know, terminal cases, you know, and blind people, crippled. I don't know how they get through life. It's amazing to me. You know, and the miserable is everyone else. That's - that's - so - so - when you go through life - you should be thankful that you're miserable because you're very lucky to be miserable.

Iiiiinteresting.

Shortly into their relationship, they admit they’re in love (or “lurve”, as Alvy says). She moves in with Alvy, which he initially isn’t the biggest fan of, having been burned in two previous marriages And already, their relationship is showing a few bumps. Alvy’s also always trying to push her to take college classes, while she uses mariuana whenever they have sex, which Alvy doesn’t agree with.

But as they have sex one night, without the marijuana at Alvy’s urging, Annie’s mind wanders - LITERALLY.

This film...this film has a VERY unique style of visual storytelling, and I am HERE for it! Seriously, I genuinely love this method of storytelling and comedy, it’s extremely engaging to me.

Soon enough, Alvy gets an interview to write for a talk show host, which he ABSOLUTELY despises. But in doing so, he decides to go into stand-up for himself, and is actually quite successful at it! But before we get to that, we’re at the halfway point! See you in Part 2!

#annie hall #woody allen #diane keaton #tony roberts #carol kane #paul simon #shelley duvall #christopher walken #romance february #romance movie #romcom #romantic comedy #user365 #365 movie challenge #365 movies 365 days #365 Days 365 Movies #365 movies a year

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ragingbookdragon · 4 years

Text

She’s The Catwoman To My Batman PT. 1

Tim Drake x Reader

A/N: I had actually planned this to be a multiple parter, but life got busy so I shoved it away. I guess I’m gonna need to write the 2nd part then lol. Enjoy! -Thorne <3

He should’ve known better than to raise his hand back in the cave. He knew he should’ve stayed at eighteen like he had, but his arrogance got the better of him, and he asked Jason to give him another card, and he busted at twenty-eight. I should’ve known he’d beat me at Blackjack. He always does. He grunted as he stood on the ledge, thinking about how Jason shouted in victory, then took off yelling something along the lines of, ‘Have fun on my route too!’ I’m never making a bet with him again. Tim thought. He sighed as he sat down on the ledge, his eyes scanning over the shops in the East Side. All the shops were closed and rigged with security; anyone brave, or stupid, enough to break-in ran the risk of being caught within the minutes they stepped foot into the store, either by him or GCPD. Tim thought about leaving, but something caught his eye, and upon closer inspection, he realized it was a young woman breaking into a jewelry shop. He watched her for a few seconds just to be sure she was; he knew she was when she waved a hand and the door opened for her. Oh great. She’s got telekinesis. His eyes narrowed in annoyance as he slipped down the ledge and crossed the street, following her. He stopped just as he got to the door and tapped a button on his wrist, wondering why the silent alarms weren’t going off. To his surprise, the alarms hadn’t registered the door opening, or her entry into the store. He disabled the security and readied himself for whatever fight she was about to put up and stepped in behind her.

She obviously hadn’t seen him come in behind her, because she was still bent over the counter, rummaging through the case. She pulled out a pair of silver and sapphire tear-drop earrings and raised them to her ear before shoving them in the bag she carried. She was reaching for the matching necklace when he said, “You know you’re committing a felony, right? Actually, multiple felonies if you include the burglary.” Her shoulders tensed ever-so-slightly, but she soon relaxed and dropped the necklace into her bag, already reaching for the bracelet.

“Tell me something I don’t know.” He started walking towards her.

“You’re going to put all that back and come with me.” She stopped, leaning against the case as she turned to him; Tim stopped a few feet from her and took in the disinterested gaze on her face.

“Anyone ever tell you, that with the cowl and all, you look like Midnighter?” His lips pulled a frown and he watched a smirk grow on her face as she quipped, “Oh…someone already has, haven’t they?” She hummed as she dropped the bracelet into her bag, moving on the other side of the case and reaching for a ruby and gold ring. “So, I have a question, if you’ll provide me an answer.” He reached for her hand to try and stop her, but she pulled away at the last minute, dancing to the other case; he followed her.

“I may have an answer…depends on your question.” She paused as she admired an emerald bracelet.

“This is Red Hood’s usual patrol route.” She looked up at him, and he could tell that behind her mask, her eyes were curious. “Why’s Red Robin on it?” He sighed and muttered,

“I lost blackjack.” She nodded, dropping the bracelet in her bag.

“I used to play blackjack with my uncle and his husband when I would stay over with them.” She grinned and shook her head. “His husband used to kick my ass every time.” She started making her way to the door, but he blocked it, crossing his arms.

“You don’t really think I’m going to let you get out of this? Do you?” She grinned, resting an elbow on the case.

“Alright Romeo, I’ll bite.” Her grin widened at the way he grunted from the nickname. “Tell me what I have to do if I want to leave.”

“You know what you have to do.”

“I’m not putting all this back.”

“Then we’ve reached an impasse. And one you’re not going to like the answer to.”

“Does this mean we get to fight?” Tim pulled out the Bo-staff and clicked a button; she watched it extend.

“If that’s what it takes.” She paused, eyeing him before waving a hand, and Tim felt his body become light; he looked down, his eyes widening in shock as he realized he was levitating.

“Not going to be much of a fight if you can’t find your feet.” She flicked a hand and he went flying out the door, landing on his back in the middle of the sidewalk. He moaned as the pain shot up his spine, then he heard feet climbing up a ladder. He looked up to see her pulling herself over the top, then she peeked her head over and smiled. “C’mon Romeo. You’re not gonna give up before our chase even starts, are you?” He growled as he jerked up, running to the ladder and hopping up onto it. She hummed in amusement before spinning around and taking off; he chased after her, crossing the rooftops and eventually, he gained on her. When he saw his chance, he stuck the Bo-staff out, catching her foot and tripping her. She yelped as she fell, and he reached up, locking her hands in the cuffs he carried with him. She rolled over onto her back, still pinned underneath him, her hands cuffed above her head, and complained, “That’s not fair. You tripped me.” His chest heaved as he caught his breath.

“I…just used…my smarts.” He sucked in a breath, staring down at her. “Where’s the bag?” She shrugged, quipping,

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Romeo.” His eyes narrowed at her and he leaned down, his voice hardening.

“I’m not in the mood for games. Bag. Now.” Her eyes narrowed the same as his, but in flirtation, and she leaned up, her face centimeters from his as she murmured,

“Are you sure you’re not in the mood for games?” His eyes dropped to her lips momentarily as she whispered, “I love games.” They stared at each other for a few seconds and she followed with, “You can kiss me if you want to Romeo…I won’t tell Batman.” He swallowed thickly, and before he realized it, she’d shifted, pressing her lips to his. I should not be doing this. He tried to tell himself that even as her hands raised, resting behind his head. One of his hands came up, catching her chin and he tilted her head back; she got the drift and opened her mouth, allowing him to deepen the kiss. I really should not be doing this. It’s like Lynx all over again. His other hand reached down, squeezing her hip, and he felt her legs shift, wrapping around his waist. I’m gonna be in so much trouble if someone finds out. He should’ve felt it before it happened, but he was too preoccupied with her, and before he knew it, she was pulling away and slipping out from beneath him. He looked up and started to follow when he realized he couldn’t move his hands; he glanced down at them to see the cuffs he’d originally put on her, locked around his wrists. He stared at them in shock, then looked back at her.

“How the hell-” She waved a hand, and he saw it turn a faded, smoky, blue, and soon he understood why the alarms hadn’t detected her. “You can become spectral.” A grin crossed her lips and she waved her hand once more, and the bag flew into her grip.

“Right you are Romeo.” She nodded to the cuffs then spun around. “Have fun getting out of those!” She was gone before he could stop her and he groaned as he put the cuffs away, already knowing he was going to get a lecture about the robbery when he got back to the cave.

The Next Day:

He sat his textbook and laptop down on the desk; his eyelids drooped from the lack of sleep and he rested his head on the desk, moaning lowly as he wished the day to pass so he could go home. He tried to remind himself of the reason that he signed up for another science class, and the memory of him telling Bruce that he’d be able to graduate early if he took more classes, came to the surface. Why does Bruce let me handle my schedule? I may be an adult, but I should not have this responsibility. The sound of books hitting a desk told him someone was sitting next to him, and he turned his head, looking at whoever was. His eyes zeroed in on the cup of coffee sitting beside their books, then he heard a chuckle. “If you’re staring at it that much, go ahead and take it.” He moved his gaze and looked at her as she stared at him in amusement; she picked up the cup and placed it in front of his face. “I already had a cup an hour or two ago. Knock yourself out.”

“What it is?”

“Caramel macchiato with extra espresso shots.” He jerked forward, grabbing the cup.

“Bless you.” She huffed a laugh as she watched him drink it. After a few seconds he set the cup down and she leaned over, looking inside the cup.

“Wow…you really drank all of it.” He gave her a sheepish smile.

“Sorry…I didn’t have time to grab a coffee in the café this morning.” She waved at him.

“Don’t worry about it. Most days my schedule is so crazy that I barely have time to grab lunch.”

“I feel you. Mondays and Wednesdays are my jam-packed days.” She stuck out a hand.

“(Y/N) (L/N).” He took it, shaking it.

“Tim Drake.” She pulled back, her tone knowing.

“You’re the Wayne boy, aren’t you?” He sighed before nodding.

“I am.” (Y/N) hummed as she flipped her notebook open.

“I recognized you when I sat down.” Tim raised an eyebrow at her and asked,

“How so?”

“One of the venues your dad had a gala at, I waited tables. I remember your dad coming over and talking to us.” She paused, turning to him. “It amazed me that he even cared that we were comfortable.” (Y/N) shrugged. “I learned a lesson that your family wasn’t a bunch of rich assholes like a lot of the socialites around here.” Tim snorted and muttered,

“Except Damian.”

“That’s the little brother, right?” He nodded.

“Unfortunately.” This made her laugh, and the door opened, revealing the teacher.

“Good morning class!” There was a unanimous response and he placed his briefcase on the table. “As you all know, this is college, not high school, and we are not waiting for anyone to get comfortable before we start working.” This time, the class groaned. “Oh relax. If you do the work, you’ll pass.” He turned around, grabbing the marker and writing on the board. “I want you to pair up with the partner next to you. Give each other your numbers, or a way to reach the other, because for the next month, you two will be working on a science project together.” (Y/N) slid her phone over, a new contact already set up, and Tim took it, putting his number in. “I don’t care what you two decide to work out, but again, remember you are in college not elementary school. I don’t want volcanoes and cereal.” He turned around. “Show me the brilliance you honors students obviously possess.” He motioned to them. “Come up with an idea and let me know before you leave. You have all of this class time to do so.” He sat down, and immediately, everyone turned to their partner and began discussing; Tim looked at her.

“What do you think?” She hummed, then offered,

“Plant mutations?”

“How’d we do that? We only have a month.”

“Plant mutations can occur at any point in growth.”

“But the mutations won’t really be noticeable until they’re fully grown.” She paused, thinking.

“How about testing if plants are resistant to heavy metals?” Tim thought for a moment.

“We could go to the store and buy a few plants and then-”

“Test them against the toxicity of heavy metals like lead, cadmium, arsenic, and mercury.” He nodded and she leaned back in the seat. “I’m already enjoying this project.” He huffed a laugh and looked at her.

“When do you want to meet up?” She turned to him and grinned.

“I’m free all the time.”

“We can meet at the manor and do the project there.”

“I get to go to Wayne Manor? Dope.”

“It’s not as cool as everyone makes it out to be.” (Y/N) hummed, nudging his side.

“I’ll be the judge of that Timbers.” He rolled his eyes muttering,

“Oh great, you and Jason will get along great.”

“Already meeting your family? I’m all for romance Timbers, but isn’t this a little fast?” Tim shook his head, his voice incredulous.

“What? No, I-” He stopped talking when he saw the smirk on her face. “Joke, right.” She winked at him, gathering her things and standing up.

“For now.” He raised an eyebrow, watching her walk over to the teacher, then move to the door; she turned around and looked at him, tipping her head. “Give me a call when you want to meet Timbers.” She smirked then left the room, and Tim felt his heart thump in his chest, and he looked down muttering,

“Oh no. That’s not good.”

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havethetimeofyourstyles · 5 years

Text

You and Me

Thank you to @msmarian94 for requesting this!

This was kinda rough lol, but hope you all enjoy!

*gif not mine*

You’ve kind of always been the shy type.

Ever since you were younger, you’ve always sat on the sidelines, watching your classmates play on the playground as the teacher’s encouraged them to “stop running!” You’ve developed some sort of FOMO (fear of missing out) from being so shy and socially awkward.

Social anxiety really got the best of you during middle school and high school. Although you’ve made one good friend, Isabel, that stuck with you through it all, you’ve never really branched out to make new friends because you didn’t know how or what would be a good conversation started.

You were gorgeous—are gorgeous. Many people knew that too. You were a bit oblivious to it all; how people would stare at you, and many guys you used to go to school with, used to try and talk to you. And oblivious to just simply how gorgeous you are. But then again, your social anxiety got the best of you.

Then came around college. You didn’t have to freak out just yet because you and Isabel were going to the same college for only two years, but it’s when uni started that made you freak out a bit. Isabel was going to school in Ireland for business as you were still in London studying for journalism.

Uni was the time you had to break out of shell. It was definitely hard to though. It wasn’t as easy as it seemed. You’re practically in a new environment and you knew no one. Everyone that you passed by seemed like they knew someone. That made you a bit sad and frustrated.

Your roommate was nice to you, that was a plus. She would always invite you to parties on school night, which you kindly decline, saying you had a paper to write or a book to read, which is true 90% of the time. Other 10% is that it’s not really your scene. You’d rather stay in than go out, and you don’t see a problem with that. You’d also get a chance to call your family almost every night, and you can admit you’re getting homesick.

“Love, you need to go out! Stop trapping yourself in that dorm of yours or you might go crazy.”

“I-It’s hard, Mum. You know how I am.” You frown to yourself as you hear your mother sigh on the phone.

“I sure do, but how will you ever get out of that shell if you don’t try?”

You were sat outside of a cafe that’s close to the dorms. Your last class had cancelled and so you decided to take advantage of the nice weather London offered only a few times of the year. As you scanned over your notes and back to your laptop, someone cleared their throat causing you to cut your focus.

“Uh, hi. I don’t want to be that person, but seeing as there are no seats available inside and your table seems like the only one with a chair empty. D-do you mind if I sit here?” The stranger smiled softly. He was very attractive, you have to admit. He had a bit of a softness to him that you liked. This also could be a very great opportunity to practice your social skills, and who knows, maybe you’ll befriend this guy.

You nod. “Sure!” You say too excitedly for your liking. “I-I mean, yeah, okay, uh, yeah.” You say in a more lower tone. He chuckles a bit at your fumble of words and takes a seat. You quickly move your folders and book out of the way and set them on your lap.

“I’m Harry, by the way.” Harry reaches out his hands, which you gladly take, proceeding to tell him your name and that it’s a pleasure meeting him. In which, he smiles.

“What are you studying for anyway?” Harry asks.

“Oh, uh, basically reading stuff about American literature. Proper boring if I’m being honest.” You say shyly.

“Yeah, I remember taking American literature. Wasn’t my go to, that’s for sure.”

“What about you? What are you studying?”

“Actually, I’m not in school anymore. I graduated about 2 and half years ago.” Harry says and you’re shocked. He looks about your age and he looks insanely good.

“What? What are you blushing about?” You hadn’t even realized you were blushing, making you blush even more out of embarrassment. “C’mon, tell me.” He says as he flashes his beautiful, dimpled smile at you.

“Uh, it’s embarrassing.” You put your head down, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“Alright, I won’t push ya to it.” He smirks.

You simply went to the cafe to utilize the extra free time you had for studying and writing your paper, but that time was used talking to Harry and getting to know him, and vice versa. You’ve come to find out that he’s a sweet and down to earth person. He doesn’t push or nag you about personal things that people love to talk to strangers about, and you appreciate that.

Instead, you both talk about school and work, which you’ve come to find out that he works in a big marketing business. And you realized that he’s kind of perfect for that job. He loves to talk and talks with enthusiasm, which you think he’s fit for. You talk about hobbies: he loves to write and read on the side, and he loves to sing and play the guitar. The taste in music and movies: he loves the oldies. Anything from Fleetwood Mac, The Rolling Stones, Donny Hathaway, Van Morrison, you name it. He’s also a sucker for a good romcom.

You realized that it was getting rather late, and as you were collecting your stuff, you were getting a bit sad having to leave and stop talking to him.

“It was nice talking to you.” Harry says as you stand up and give him a smile

“You too, Harry.”

“I’ll see you when I see you.”

It was two months later when you saw Harry again. You decided to take a stroll in the park, thankful for the sunny weather again. Your earphones are in as you listen to a recent podcast you found interesting on the science of being transgender. It was something your friend sent you and it’s always great to be educated.

You take in the scenery in front of you with your hands in your cardigan pocket as you walk on the gravel cement. You people watch as you watch parents play with their kids and people jogging passed you. And a specific person you think looks very familiar.

A person looking very familiar walking towards you.

You take your headphone out. “Uh, hi Harry.”

He looks at you with bright eyes and gives you a big smile. “Oh my god, hi! How are you?” He gives you a hug, which you gladly to hug him back.

“I’m good, I’m good. Just here for a walk. How’ve you been?”

“Likewise, but I’ve been okay. To be honest, I was kind of regretting not asking for your number after we met.” He says shyly.

You blush. “Oh, wow. Uh, did you still want it?”

“I’d love to have it.” You gladly exchange numbers and proceed walking together in the park.

“Would you like to go on a date with me?” You look at him with shocked eyes.

“Y-you want to go on a date? With me?” You say nervously.

“Just said that, didn’t I?” He chuckles.

“Okay. Yeah, sure. I’d love to.” He smiles.

“Great.”

You’d thrown clothes and put them back on the hangers until you found the perfect outfit to wear. You wore a simple black, two piece skirt outfit with a chunky cardigan, and a bit of a heel. Makeup was always minimal, sticking to only mascara and eyebrow gel, knowing full well you don’t know how to do a full face.

“You look amazing tonight. I mean you look great all the time, but you really do look great.” Harry says as he’s sitting across you with a menu in his hands.

“Thank you, Harry. You look great too.” He smiles and looks back down at the menu as you do too.

“This place is quite the scene.” You say.

“I wanted it to be perfect for you.”

“You could’ve taken me anywhere and I would’ve loved it.”

You notice some people look at you in the most rude way possible, knowing you don’t fit into the scene. Harry notices the way people look at you, and you noticing how they look at you both.

“Hey.” You’re quick to bring your attention back to him and turn your head to look at him. “Don’t worry about them, okay? It’s just you and me tonight.” You nod your head and smile at him. It’s just the two of you.

After a successful first date, you’re giddy about him. I mean, who wouldn’t after? You’ve come to find out he’s a bit older than you. As you’re only 20, you find out he’s 25, working for a big marketing company. You’re slightly intimidated by that, but he reassures you it’s just fine, and he likes you for you, not your age.

After the second date, you feel as if you’re falling for him. It’s quite early on, but you’ve never experienced this before and with texting him almost every second of the day, you can’t help it. At the end of the date, he drops you off at your dorm.

Harry on the other hand, has quite fallen for you too. People are always so skeptical about ages, but he simply doesn’t care. That’s just something people are going to throw at you both if you proceed to date. It’s been quite a while since he’s done the whole dating thing, and he thinks it seems so right with you. Even though it’s only the second date.

“I had a lovely time tonight. Always do when I’m with you.” He says as holds your hand and doesn’t let go, as you’re both standing in front of your door.

“Me too. Thank you for tonight.” He brings your hand up to his mouth and kisses it. You smile, which then leads to him smiling. He pulls you in for a hug and you hug him tightly, not wanting the night to end. Harry pulls back and brushes the hairs out of your face and behind your ear.

“Can I kiss you?” He whispers as he looks at your lips. You’re frozen, shocked by his request.

“I-okay. I, uhm, I’ve never actually kissed someone before.” He looks you in the eye, finding some sort of lie in them, but finds that you’re actually telling the truth.

“No worries. I’ll just kiss you here,” he kisses you on the forehead. “And here.” He moves down to your nose. “And here.” He shifts to your left cheek. “And another one right here.” He proceeds over to the other cheek. Harry pulls away and look at your with glimmering eyes; the one that you’ve fallen for and it makes your heart burst. And the next thing you know, you’re pulling his arm and your lips connect with his. The kiss lasts for about 7 seconds. You’re both just enjoying the feel of each other with the most romantic gesture. You let go and open your eyes, seeing as he’s slowly opening his. He gives you a smile as he caresses your cheek.

“I’ve been waiting for that.”

Just a week after, you and Harry went on your third date to the local fair. It was by far your favorite date as you ate kettle corn, funnel cakes, and anything greasy you can imagine. You both played games and went on rides. After you won the round of shooting the water into the little hole, he saw the bright look on your face and how you lit up when you’re happy, so he couldn’t help but ask.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” You stopped jumping and looked at him.

“Did you just ask what I think you asked?”

“I sure did.”

“You want to be my boyfriend?” He nods happily. “And you want me to be your girlfriend?” He nods again.

“I really like you. I want to be able to call you my girlfriend. So...”

“Yes! Yes, of course!” You throw your arms around him and give him a big hug as he kisses your shoulder.

A few months after you and Harry made it official, you both couldn’t get enough of each other; always finding time to hang out with each other and go on dates. You’ve learned so much about him and he, you. It was pure bliss and happiness. You’ve never been so happy before. Naturally, your parents and Isabel asked you questions about him. Of course, mentioning the obviously that he was a bit older, but you shook it off because Harry is overall such a gentleman.

You and Harry were leaning on about a year and two months of being together and you still can’t believe the love he gives you. It’s definitely something you’re still not used to. You truly could not have asked for a better boyfriend.

Harry feels over the moon about you. He would do anything and everything for you without hesitation. Even though you would tell him not to, he doesn’t mind. He loves spoiling you with the love that you deserve. He loves everything about you. From when you blush shyly at the compliments he showers you with to the way you look when he’s deep inside of you, making you feel amazing.

He was kind of on the edge when you told him that you wanted him to make you feel good and finally have sex since it was your first time, but you reassured him that you’d want him and only him to make you feel at bliss.

Harry had invited you to a work party as his company was celebrating 40 years. To say the least, you were nervous. You had to make a good impression on his co-workers and his boss. He’s a big name of the company and has brought many successes over the years of being there, so you have to make yourself worthy of the big shot that he is.

The venue was rather nice. It was decorated with pretty light on the ceiling and dim lights with music playing in the background. People dressed amazingly as they held their drinks in one hand and greeting people with the other.

“Ah, Harry! There you are, was waiting for you to show up.” A man with black and gray hair, and beard greeted Harry.

“I’ve made it and I’ve brought the girlfriend. Daniel, meet my girlfriend.” Daniel put his hand out. “This is my boss.” You gladly shake his hand.

“Harry’s good at what he does. Keep him on his feet, will ya?” You chuckle.

“Will do. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Well, gotta go say hi to more people and make my rounds. Harry, lets have a drink later. And the missus, it was a pleasure.” You and Harry smile and bid him a ‘see you later.’

An hour or two into the party, you encouraged Harry to go and mingle, saying you didn’t mind sitting here. He gives you a kiss, saying he promised he would be back in 30, which you tell him to take his time.

“So Harry, how did you meet your girl?” Daniel asks as he takes a sip from his drink.

“We met outside of a cafe and I asked if I could sit with her. Then I saw her again two months later, and asked her out on a date.” He smiles, thinking back at the memory and start of your relationship.

“Ahh. That’s nice. Cliche, but nice. What does she do if you don’t mind me asking?”

“No, not at all. She’s actually still in school. This is her last year before she starts working, but she does intern at the publishing house.”

“Oh. She’s still in school?” Hart nods. “How old is she anyways?”

“S-She’s 21. Why?” Harry asks skeptically.

“It’s just that—don’t you think she’s a little young for you?” Daniel raises his eyebrows.

“Young? She’s only like 5 years younger than me.” Harry tries to stay calm as he explains, even though he knows he doesn’t have to.

“I’m just saying. What will happen if you’re what, 30? What will happen if you want to settle down and she doesn’t? She’d be at the peak of her life! She wouldn’t want to settle right away anyways. You’re obviously not getting any younger. All I’m saying is that: do you see a future with her and if she’s even worth it to wait for?”

The last part seemed like it was shade thrown at you. Harry is a very patient man. It takes a lot for him to get mad—furious. He clenches his fist, trying to maintain an appropriate attitude. He could say a whole lot to his boss right now, but again, that’s his boss. So Harry just stays quiet, hoping you’re having a better time than he is.

And you’re not.

During that time Harry was talking to Daniel, you were glad Harry was mingling at his work party while taking sips of his drink. Two ladies took a seat right next to you and you turn to look at them.

“H-Hello.” You say nervously. One of the girls raised her eyebrows.

“Are you Harry’s girlfriend?” The other asked.

“Yeah, I am.” You give them a soft smile.

“Tragic.” She replied with a low tone, but you heard her clear.

“I-I’m sorry?”

“I said that’s tragic.” She says in a more loud and clear voice. You give them a confused look. “It’s only tragic because he could do so much better than you.” She looks you up and down, and your face drops and you wish Harry could come over and interrupt. But they’re not wrong, are they? These two girls are drop, dead gorgeous as they wear low cut dresses that hug their body making them look even more sexier—attractive. And then there’s you.

You thought you had cleaned yourself up pretty well. You decided to step it up in the makeup department and tried out some basic eyeshadow. You still stuck with mascara and eyebrow gel, and finished it with a gloss. Your dress is a white halter dress that goes just above your knees as it shows your back, and flows out slightly. Your shoes are 2 to 3 inches of nude heels.

“And aren’t you a little too young to be in this place? You’re, what, 18?”

“I’m actually 21.” You say softly.

“Aww, that’s cute! Barely pass the drinking age in the states. Very cute.” They say sarcastically. You frown, trying not to cry. This is part of the reason you hated social events or parties. People can say some really rude shit and you’re there to just take it. You’ve never been a fighter and you don’t want to be, so you’re sat there, not trying to make a scene.

“Ladies.” Harry thankfully arrives just before you’re about to burst into tears. “How are you doing? Jenna, Mila?”

“We’re doing great, Harry!” Their voice suddenly changing. “We’re just having a chat with you’re lovely girlfriend.” They look at you in an almost threatening way, but back at Harry with dreamy eyes.

“Lovely, isn’t she? Beautiful thing, she is.” He looks at you with admiration and love, and it’s comforting—familiar.

“The loveliest.” They say in a fake tone.

“Well, we’re just about ready to head out. Hope you both enjoy the rest of your evening.” Your mine blocks out whatever they had said and whatever had happened from the time you left the party to the time you arrived at Harry’s.

“Did you enjoy the party?” Harry asks as he turns over to you in the bed. You turn to face him and only give him a nod, not trusting your voice.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Do you ever regret being with me?” Harry looks at you with shock.

“Why would I ever regret being with you?”

“I don’t know. I’m younger than you. You’re a handsome, sweet, and charming man, and could possibly be with anyone. I’m just me.” You say with a sad tone.

“If you need to know, no. No I don’t regret being with you. I will never regret being with you.” You only nod.

“Jenna and Mila brought this up didn’t they? I was watching you from the bar, and noticed that your face dropped and that you were about to cry while they were talking to you. So I had to get my love out of there.”

You sigh. “I appreciate it, Harry. But yeah, I just don’t want you to miss out on opportunities, you know? I don’t want you to regret being with me for a more classy and experienced person. I understand-“

“Stop. Please. Look, I don’t want you to ever think that, okay? Who said I was missing out on opportunities anyways? I love experiencing new things with you. You mean the world to me and I love you so much. You’re the first person to make me feel something. I don’t give a fuck what they think. You’re only five years younger than me so I don’t see what the problem is. All that matters is you and me, got it?” That made you feel extremely better. The reassurance he made you feel is 10x more relaxing.

“Thank you, Harry. I love you too.” You give him a kiss.

“You know, Daniel said almost the same thing.” You raise your eyebrows. “Said that if you’re even worth the wait if I wanna get married or some shit like that.” You stay silent, not knowing what to say. I mean Daniel was somewhat right. If I don’t want to get married right now and Harry does, it’s only natural it won’t work out. “That doesn’t matter what he says anyways.”

“Why?”

“Because love, I would wait for you until you’re ready. Sure I want to get married and have kids with you, but I know you’re not in a rush to do so, and I’m not either anyways. And if you don’t want to get married then fuck it! We don’t have to put an official title of Husband and Wife on us. I don’t care as long as I’m with you.”

“Harry, that’s so sweet. And just to clarify, I want to marry you and luckily have kids with you too.” Harry blushes at your words.

“I know we’ve only been together for a little over a year, but when I know, I know. And all I know is that I want that future with you. It’s just you and me.”

“And I know too.”

“Good.” He pecks your nose.

“Do you remember when we met; how you caught me blushing and I turned all red?” Harry chuckles.

“Yeah, I do. Still don’t know why you were so embarrassed.”

“You had just told me that you’ve graduated about 3 years from that time and I remember thinking how insanely attractive you look because I thought you were my age.” Harry lets out a loud laugh. “Hey! It’s not funny!”

“You know what? Fuck age! If my girl thinks I look good then that’s all that matters.”

feel free to send in a request!

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles one shot #harry styles ff #1dff #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #older!harry #harry styles au #older writings

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snowdice · 4 years

Text

Gaps in His Files (Part 8) [Relabeled; Refiled Series]

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Logan/Patton

Characters:

Main: Logan, Patton

Appear: Remy, Virgil (but only in the epilogue)

Summary:

Logan Berry has learned many things the last 10 years: a lot of math and physics, a bit of humility, and how to be a hero being just a few. Through his education, his experience teaching, and his exploits as the superhero Bluebird, he’s changed in a lot of small and large ways. He has recorded these changes in well-organized documents and files. He’s even had to create two new file designations: a red one for files about his moonlighting at Bluebird, and a light blue one dedicated to his boyfriend, Patton.

When Bluebird is targeted by a memory device and all of those 10 years of progress suddenly disappear, Patton Sanders and Logan’s extensive files are left as his only resource to get those memories back. But what is Patton supposed to do when there are clear gaps in his files? And what does he do when he is one of them?

This is set 25 years before Sometimes Labels Fail though it’s story is completely independent of it and it is not necessary to read that one first.

Notes: Superhero AU, memory loss, past child abuse, past child neglect, unhealthy ideas about ones place in relationships, emotional suppression, self-deprecating thoughts, medical procedures mentioned, very brief unhealthy views of sex

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Erm. Logan says a few not so nice things about people who struggle academically which are very wrong. I think from context it is clear that the author doesn’t agree with it. As a teacher I do not endorse his statement and in the missing 10 years he’s learned the lesson for himself... he’s just a very dumb smart high school kid. That being said, I thought I might warn you all especially with the fact that people might be in the middle of finals and a little emotionally vulnerable to that one.

Patton spent most of the morning getting Logan familiar with his red files while also asking him subtle questions about his real opinions on things. The mention of the crying thing did sting a bit even though Patton already knew it made Logan uncomfortable. Patton knew that from the beginning, but he’d still let Logan force himself to try to help when Patton was upset.

God, Patton was a bad person.

After he’d helped Logan get a good feel of the newer files, they started brainstorming about how best to work on recovering his memories over lunch.

Patton had thought they were on the same page, that being they were going to read through the pages in his files hoping he’d remember something in them. However, now he was doing that finger tapping thing on the table while he chewed slowly on his sandwich.

“What?” Patton finally asked.

Logan had clearly been waiting to share because there was no pause before his response. “Have you heard of Blight?” Logan asked, casually, as though that were not a name that made most of the population shudder when they heard it.

“This is nothing like that,” Patton said firmly before he continued with that line of thought.

“Why couldn’t it be?” he asked with a curious head tilt.

“Because… because it’s not,” Patton said.

“Do you have any evidence that it isn’t? Just because it was a device instead of a superpower does not mean it is not the same methodology.”

“It’s just not,” Patton said, “It can’t be.”

“Why?” Logan asked again.

“Because none of them recovered,” Patton tried not to snap.

Logan hummed. “Ah. That seems like an emotionally charged conclusion.”

“Can we please just not talk about it?” Patton implored, turning back to his lunch even though he wasn’t hungry anymore. There were a few moments of silence.

“Did you know,” Logan started, and Patton sighed, “that Blight was on record as having telekinesis before she revealed herself as a Mind Warper? People say she must have implanted false memories in her victims, but if she really was then it would be evidence of-”

“The Monofacultas Theory,” Patton finished for him.

Logan gave him a startled look. “You know it?”

“I’ve known you for over three years Logan and while I agree that the theory is interesting and feasible, there are no known cases of someone having a set of powers that span more than one of the Tri-divisions.”

“If Blight had telekinesis there is. She would have had a physical power as well as a mental one. Witnesses said…”

“She tore the minds of an entire city apart at the seams and restructured them to her desire. Excuse me if I don’t trust the validity of those mind’s statements especially when they have been disproved by video evidence.”

“Just because she didn’t use telekinesis for that one situation caught on video doesn’t mean she couldn’t.”

“Fine,” Patton said. “Say you’re right. Why does it matter?”

“Well I have telekinesis.”

“So, you want to… move your memories back into place?”

“Basically, yes.”

“With your telekinesis?”

“Well, brains are ultimately physical objects.”

“And you are going to not simply give yourself a stroke because…?” Logan shrugged. “Absolutely not Logan.”

“It would be interesting,” Logan said, eyes alight. “I could prove that powers are not truly divided into physical, metal, or energy powers but are originally one singular power that develops due to circumstance during early childhood.”

“If your brain doesn’t literally explode because you don’t know what you’re doing.”

“All science has risk.”

“No, Logan.”

He gave him the look that Patton was not allowed to call a pout.

“Can we at least try some less extreme methods of memory recovery before the theoretical methods with no hard evidence? Like continuing to read your files to try to jog your memory naturally as we had discussed.”

“Fine,” he agreed, looking downtrodden. Patton really hoped he got his memory back before he got too restless and tried something like that.

“If you’re finished eating, we should get back to reading,” Patton said. Patton was certainly finished with his lunch.

The afternoon went well without any major disasters or talk about dangerous methods to get memories back. Logan had not remembered anything, but he’d been calm and patiently started sorting through his files in chronological order. Then, when Patton left him alone for a moment to go to the bathroom, he somehow managed to find his daily planner from where Patton had hidden under a blanket in the front hall closet.

“It’s fine,” Patton insisted from the couch, watching him pace back and forth and wringing his hands. “I called your advisor and told him you wouldn’t be able to meet with him because you were sick.”

Logan frowned at him. “You shouldn’t’ have done that. I could have gone. I don’t want to appear irresponsible by skipping meetings.”

“He wanted to talk about your research. You would have had no idea what he was talking about,” Patton reasoned.

“I would have managed.”

“Logan,” Patton said patiently. “Your research area is partial differential equations. Do you even know what those are?”

Patton could tell by the look on his face that he had no idea. Yet he still stuck his nose up in the air. “I know what a differential is, and I know what an equation is. I am sure I can figure out how to do parts of them.”

“You haven’t even taken multivariate calculus.”

“It can’t be that hard.”

“It is,” Patton groaned, “It is hard.”

“Perhaps for you,” he said hotly.

“No,” Patton ground out. “For you. The 28-year-old you spends hours a week trying to understand these things and he has a bachelor’s degree and almost 6 years of graduate education under his belt. You are in high school.” Logan just gave him a withering glare and turned his attention back to the planner.

“I’m supposed to teach two courses tomorrow,” he said.

“Oh, absolutely not,” Patton said.

“I have a responsibility rather or not I have my memories.”

“Logan, listen to me. You have not graduated high school. You cannot teach a calculus class.”

Logan bristled. “I took calculus last year and got an A.”

Patton had to take a steadying breath. “That is not the same as teaching it.”

“It can’t be that hard. I will simply explain the information to them.”

“And when one of them asks you how to add two fractions?”

Logan’s eyebrows crinkled. “That is a basic skill. I am sure anyone in a college calculus course can do that easily.”

“You have clearly never taught a day in your life.”

Logan bristled. “Any adult who cannot add fractions should immediately be kicked out of university and returned to kindergarten where they belong.”

Patton looked at him for a moment hoping perhaps he would figure out on his own why what he just said was completely out of line. He just kept his jaw stubbornly firm. Patton took a breath. “And that is why you cannot go and teach these students.”

Logan scoffed. “I am not sure why my future self would put up with such things.”

“Because you almost failed your real analysis course,” Patton answered in a heartbeat. “Your first semester of teaching, you were also taking a first-year graduate real analysis course and you couldn’t understand a word of measure theory. It was the first time in your life that you had to work for a C. One day you looked at your students and came to the realization that the look on their faces when you tried to explain the product rule to them was likely the same expression your professor saw on yours when he tried to explain the existence of non-measurable sets. We all have our strengths and weaknesses and if we let someone else draw the line for stupid, there is every chance we’d end up on the wrong side of it. So,” Patton said crossing his arms, “I am not going to let you go ruin your own reputation with your students as a teacher who is not an asshole because you’ve not had to toe your own line yet.”

Logan met his eyes, clearly wanting to argue, but Patton just kept his face strict and his arms crossed. Logan’s face cleared suspiciously quickly, and he backed down. “Fine,” he agreed. “I will stay here.”

“Good,” Patton replied eyeing him. “Now put down the planner and let’s go back to work.”

Want to read more? Use the links below!

AO3 Part 9

My Masterpost

#sanders sides #logan sanders #patton sanders #logicality #tsss #superhero au #memory loss #past child abuse #past child neglect #emotional suppression #self deprecation #gaps in his files #labeled universe #relabeled; refiled #adriana writes

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lgbtyrus · 4 years

Text

Definitely

A Tarty fanfic? In October of 2020? You bet!!! This is a gift for @delicatesleeper who deserves the world’s most patient person award <3 Enjoy!

Words: 3068

High school was fun because you saw a lot of different things. Kids chanting Lick it! Lick it! to another kid going to lick a weird stain in the science building. An artsy kid having a break down in the middle of math. TJ Kippen fighting another boy in the locker room.

“TJ is fighting Carson!” Marty’s best friend, Tony, announced to him in one corner of the locker room. There was dozens of voices echoing throughout the stuffy place, and Marty could feel his heart slam against his chest every step he took towards the scene. But by the time he got there, their PE teacher had already separated the two. TJ seemed to get in a good hit as Carson hid his blood nose under his arm, not realizing blood was already dripping down at his chin.

“What in the fucking hell were you two thinking?!” their PE teacher’s voice boomed over them. “You’re both going to get kicked off the basketball team.”

“He started it!” TJ yelled, looking furious. His face was read. Marty didn’t know TJ that well, but he knew he wasn’t violent. Sure, he had a temper. But dating Cyrus Goodman for a while had to have done something good to him. Then again, break ups completely reprogram a person. Marty would know. He’s been through five.

Marty was sitting in detention, leaning back on his chair, balancing a pencil on his nose. It was him and the other kids who were regularly in there. Marty tried not to get detention so much he got kicked off the track team, but he also didn’t like doing his homework.

The teacher who looked over detention wasn’t in the classroom yet, so everyone in there was just talking and scrolling through their phones. They only looked up when someone came in, but it was usually someone they all recognized or knew pretty well.

Then TJ Kippen walked in and the pencil fell into his hand. Marty watched him walk inside the badly lit classroom, look around, and sit in the desk next to him before realizing he hadn’t stopped staring. TJ raised an eyebrow at him, making Marty panic and look away, pretending his pencil was the most interesting thing. He felt like if slightly turning his head would kill him.

Mr. Rosas walked in, whistling with a book and paper under his arm like usual. “Alright, people. Phones away. You can take them out after thirty minutes of homework.” He went to the front and put his book at the empty desk for whoever was overlooking detention. The room was in a trailer lot in the corner of their school, and it was hard to find if you never got in trouble. Mr. Rosas started reading the names of the roster, some kids saying here, some kids being recognized by him.

“TJ Kippen?” Mr. Rosas looked up. Marty turned his head and saw that TJ raised his hand. He had a heavy frown on his lips. “Aren’t you in basketball?”

“Not anymore.” TJ sighed, leaning back into his chair.

“Oh. You’re one of those two basketball players from today, no?” Mr. Rosas asked him. TJ nodded, looking embarrassed that everyone knew. Marty had been hearing everyone talking about TJ and Carson all day long, and it was making him really curious to know what happened. Nobody knows what happened. The two went inside the locker rooms laughing and then TJ threw the first hit.

Mr. Rosas finished taking attendance, and Marty realized that Carson wasn’t there. That usually meant an extra two days of detention. Marty forced himself to stop thinking about TJ and Carson and pulled out his algebra homework. Some kids were chatting with their work out on their desks, and Mr. Rosas didn’t seem to mind. He was in a good mood that day which basically meant they could do whatever they wanted. He said he always had a soft spot for misfits because he basically lived in detention in high school but had a good director that helped him get into college.

“Hey, Marty,” someone called out. Marty turned around the room, looking for the voice. “Right here, dude.” Marty made eye contact with TJ who was holding up a piece of paper. It was their homework. “Can you show me how to do four?” Marty looked at him, in shock for a bit. “Your name is Marty, right?”

“Um, yeah,” Marty said. He cleared his throat and looked down at his homework, trying to remember his steps while a storm brewed in his brain. “I dated Buffy freshman year.” Really? That’s what you say? Dumbass.

“I know who you are.” TJ told him. Marty didn’t know how to reprogram himself to work, but he cleared his throat again and held up his math sheet to him.

“Let me walk you through it.”

TJ only needed help on two other problems after that, and Marty gladly helped him even when he was done with his homework. His moms had gotten mad at him for not taking AP classes, but he didn’t like to be challenged in academics. They weren’t interesting enough.

Mr. Rosas stood up and shut his book. “All right everyone, you’re dismissed for the day. Don’t come back.” Without hesitation, everyone scrambled out of their seats and made their way out of the classroom in a line. Marty’s track practice started at 4:30 because his coach knew a lot of the kids on the team had a knack for getting kept for detention or they had other clubs besides sports. Marty just had detention.

He made his way towards the locker rooms by the gym and track field, and after walking for a moment, he noticed TJ was right behind him. Marty decided against walking faster and instead met up with TJ who gave him a head nod in acknowledgment. “Where are you of to?” Marty asked him.

“I’m not sure. I’ve never left school this early.”

“You should go to Rita Donuts. She has student discounts on Wednesdays.”

“Good to know.”

“So,” Marty said. He cleared his throat. He didn’t know how else to keep the conversation going. “What happened in the locker room.”

“What have you heard?” TJ asked him.

“Honestly, everything.” Marty crossed his arms, walking a little closer to TJ who was now heading towards the school gates, opposite of the locker rooms. Instead of saying anything, Marty continued to walk besides him.

“He said something homophobic. I punched him. That’s that.” Marty couldn’t figure TJ out. He was stoic and saying everything like he hadn’t just gotten kicked off the basketball team- the one he was captain of as a junior.

“What?” Marty asked. He had heard many things except that. Something like that wasn’t even a possibility at their high school. “And you’re both off the team?”

“He’s suspended and maybe expelled. I just got off the team because of the no tolerance policy. They said they’ll make sure I can play next year, though.”

“Well, I guess that’s kind of good?” Marty said, still not understanding how the school worked.

“Yeah. Honestly, it’s fine,” TJ admitted to him. “I can focus on actually getting good grades for now. I’m scared I’m not going to pass algebra.”

“I can tutor you,” Marty said without second thought.

“Really?” TJ smiled at him. Marty blushed crimson and nodded dumbfoundedly. “Thanks. I have you on Snapchat, no?”

“Yeah,” Marty nodded again. He couldn’t say much of anything else. He wasn’t even that good at math.

“Cool. I’ll hit you up,” TJ told him.

“Yeah,” Marty said. He looked at the time on his phone. “I’m gonna head to practice now. See you.”

“Later.” Marty smiled at him once more and ran towards the gym with his heart slamming against him like he wasn’t a trained runner. Math just got interesting.

Marty didn’t know what he was doing, why he was nervous, or why he even had a brain if it wasn’t going to work and save him from humiliating situations. TJ was going over to his house on Saturday to get help for their test on Monday, and Marty wasn’t exactly a wizard. He got in his shower after his six mile run from that morning and dressed in eight different things until deciding to wear a track shirt and jeans.

He didn’t have time to do his hair when his mom called from downstairs that TJ was there. He slid across the second floor in his socks and ran downstairs, TJ waiting for him at the door. He was smiling and talking to his mom, wearing a plain white shirt, basketball shorts, and slides. Marty definitely felt overdressed.

“Hey,” Marty waved at him.

“Hey,” TJ said, bringing his backpack higher on his shoulder.

“You can wait in the dining room,” Marty said, pointing at the entryway. “I need to get my backpack.” TJ gave him a thumbs up and walked over as Marty ran back upstairs, his heartrate a complete mess even when he ran back down.

“Do you run everywhere?” TJ asked him when he sat down in the chair next to him. Marty nodded, taking in counted breaths.

“It’s faster. You should try it.”

“Maybe when I’m back in shape.”

Marty stifled a full laugh. “You’ve only been out of basketball for like four days.”

“I breathe hard when I go up the stairs now. Four days was all I needed.”

“I run at least six miles every.”

“You’re addicted to track.”

“Sounds about right,” Marty smiled. He took out his binder and homework.

He didn’t know how he did it, but he got TJ through the course work and got him ready for the test. Marty had never studied that much on his own before since math was just a regular subject to him. Studying with TJ was fun, though. Whenever he tried to study with Tony, they ended up messing around and playing video games because they got bored.

But everything about TJ kept him grounded, like he was scared he would miss years of his life if he looked away for even just a second. It was too much for Marty to try to process sometimes, and he often tried to rub the heat away from his cheeks.

Marty and TJ hung out more outside of tutoring. TJ had a lot of time on his hands, and his friends were still going to basketball games so Marty would invite him to hang out with Tony and a few other boys. Tony raised his eyebrow one time when Marty was sad TJ wouldn’t make it to bowling, but when Marty asked him what, Tony just laughed and shook his head. That’s how Marty knew he was fucked.

TJ was in that stage months post breakup where he wasn’t gloomy about it anymore and he was back to functioning like normal again, but you could tell he had put a barrier up. There were times when TJ would almost talk about his home life or his family or even how he felt about certain things, but there always something blocking him. Like if he remembered he would only talk about those certain things to a certain someone who broke his heart.

Marty approached TJ with as much caution as much as he threw himself at him. He felt delusional and crazy, but there were times he felt like TJ was starting to like him, too. The proximity in which they would walk side by side seemed to close in even closer every week, and Marty wasn’t the one inching next to him. But even though they were becoming good friends, Marty knew there was going to be a lot more walls to break down.

One day at the park, Marty broke down the first obstacle and asked TJ why him and Cyrus had broken up. “We just didn’t click anymore,” TJ said. “He broke up with me, and I just said ok.” Marty watched TJ fiddle with the basketball in his hand for a moment, about to speak up before TJ started talking again. “I wish I would’ve asked him to stay, though. But… I could tell that he just didn’t want me anymore.” Marty didn’t know what to do with that, so he just patted TJ on the back.

“Sorry, bud.”

“That’s just the way it is.” TJ threw the ball at Marty, and they got up for another game. The entire time Marty wondered if TJ would go back to Cyrus if he could.

Marty figured he had nothing to lose and asked, “Are you over him?” In that moment, TJ stood still with the basketball in his hands. He stared at Marty, making his breath hitch for a second as those green eyes looked for something. “Yeah. I basically am.”

Basically. Basically am. What does that mean? Marty asked himself that over and over that night, and it was starting to drive him insane. So much, he just gave in and called Tony at one in the morning.

Tony was half-asleep when he answered. “Hello?”

“Okay,” Marty jumped right into it, “you know how I like TJ right?” There was a few seconds of silence.

“Yes.”

“So, I asked him if he was over Cyrus, and he said he basically was. What does basically mean? Like he doesn’t want to say he is because he’s lying or he is in the process of fully forgetting him?”

“Um.” Tony yawned into the mic, hurting Marty’s ear with the buzz. “Both?”

“Tony that’s not helping.”

“Dude just tell him you like him.”

“I can’t do that.” Marty’s head was filling with air at just the thought of doing that. “It’d just ruin our friendship.”

“Hmm, I don’t know, man.” Marty knew that tone.

“What do you know?”

“What do you mean?” Tony repeated back. He was cornered.

“What are you keeping from me?”

“Nothing,” Tony’s voice got louder which meant he was lying.

“Just tell me and you can go to sleep.” Marty heard Tony sigh. It didn’t take that long to get him to crack. “He told one of the guys who told me that he thinks you’re… cute.”

“Cute?” Marty didn’t know what to do with the information.

“Yeah. Goodnight.” Marty didn’t even get to say it back as Tony hung up, leaving Marty with the most explosive words he could’ve left him with.

TJ always asked Marty to hang out before he had gotten the cute bomb dropped on him, so Marty told himself not to act any different or to pick apart every little thing TJ did like a fetal pig. Doing so was starting to give him a heartache. But when him and TJ were doing homework in Marty’s kitchen, there was just too much gut to not pick at.

TJ had lightly bumped his foot into Marty’s and then just kept it there. He told Marty he had nice handwriting (a lot of people told him that, though). He told Marty his hair looked nice, and Marty didn’t know how to react so he just ran his fingers through his hair and accidentally ruined it so TJ could jokingly say never mind. And at one point, TJ took the ring he had on his hand and slipped it on Marty’s finger, his race redder than it had ever been. TJ noticed it.

“Why is your face so red?” TJ asked, still holding Marty’s hand on the table. Marty looked between TJ’s face that held a sneaky smile and their fingers that were grazing on each other.

Marty hid his face with his free hand and said, “I think it’s just allergies.” Dumbass! Dumb! Dumb! Dumb boy. Allergies?!

TJ chuckled and pulled his hand back slightly. “I didn’t know allergies did that.”

“Yeah,” Marty tapped his ringed hand on the table. “My moms say the doctors don’t know what to do with me.”

TJ looked Marty in the eye as he whispered, “I don’t know what to do, either.” Marty looked at TJ with his eyebrow raised. It was his turn to make him spazz out.

“Are you trying to kill me?”

TJ raised an eyebrow, a smile twitching on his face. “What kind of doctors are you doing to?”

“I think they’re vampires. It works out so I don’t have to miss track practice during the day.” TJ rolled his eyes but not in a rude way. In a you’re not that funny way. But he was still smiling warmly. Marty looked at TJ, realizing how close he had him and how his green eyes were just diamonds on his face. His face was full of sharp features, and he wanted to run his finger on all of them. He reached out and touched TJ’s hand again, making him look at him with wide eyes. Marty was about to retreat his hand, when TJ grasped it, fully holding it and tapping on of his fingers on his ring.

“Do you like me?” TJ asked him. Okay so this is happening now!

“What do you think?” Marty said, showing him their hands. TJ laughed a little.

“I think you do,” TJ said quietly, looking at him with a small smile.

“I know you think I’m cute,” Marty couldn’t help but say. “A little birdy told me.”

TJ had a victorious look on his face. “I knew those two would snitch. I planned it out like that.”

“What?” Marty asked. “You told someone you thought I was cute so that they would tell Tony to tell me?” They both laughed after Marty tried to piece it together in the air.

“I don’t know how Tony got involved, but yeah. Something like that.”

“Why not just tell me?”

“Just in case you didn’t like me.” TJ shrugged. “Can’t really know if someone really wants you despite their words and actions that say they do.” Marty’s heart seemed to sigh as he realized what TJ was talking about. Marty stood up and go closer to TJ, leaning down to kiss him. TJ kissed him back, his hand squeezing his harder.

Marty pulled away and pressed his forehead against TJ’s, their eyes in each other’s worlds. “Well I definitely like you. A lot. And if you’re willing to, I’d like to take you out sometime.” TJ gave him a small kiss.

“I’d like that.”

#shoosh star #stars writing #andi mack #tarty #tj kippen #Marty from the party

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werezmastarbucks · 4 years

Text

Whitmore Guy - the ghost

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Kai Parker x fem!Reader slowburn

whatever gifs I’m going to use on this one, I hope the creators are okay with that

word count: 2044

warnings: none

“Have you seen the new IT guy yet?”

“The uh- what?” Ric was trying to consume a chocolate bar without taking his eyes or hands off the paper he was grading. Y/N sighed patiently – or, rather, to gain some patience. Every time she felt like yelling at Saltzman she took a deep breath and travelled down the memory lane back to the times when he was just a history teacher at school. Back when they were all teens with awkwardly round faces and acne, trying really hard to impress each other, and survive ‘animal attacks’ that just started happening in the town. She recalled thinking the new teacher was actually a vampire. The sheer stupidity of her, while Stefan Salvatore was literally sitting next to her.

Back then, Ric was still youthful, energetic, even handsome, as some girls claimed. Y/N always perceived him as a parent figure, the uncle you may bump into in a bar you go to with your mates to pretend you’re old enough. To think that this grumpy, scruffy grandpa thirty-hundred years old used to be that energetic, bopping teacher they could all trust…

“I’m saying, have-you-met-Mal-yet?”

“Huh?” Ric looked up to her, and his hand inserted the bar into his mouth quickly, so that he could start chewing.

“Are you doing okay, mister Saltzman?”

Y/N called him that when she was trying to be ironic.

“We got a new IT guy? Where the hell is he? I’ve been struggling with this thing for ages”, Alaric pointed at his laptop, safely shut, after it had vomited a siren-like crackling earlier that morning. God only knows what kind of websites Ric has been visiting.

“He’s been in for like, couple of days”.

“Yeah, that’s when the password changed, I saw that”, Saltzman frowned, “that note on the first floor, on the notice board, said that there was a treasure map or crap like this. The whole place has been running on mobile since Monday. Is he toying with us? Who hired him?”

“It’s ‘revenant94’.

“What?”

“The password”.

Y/N settled her coffee mug on the desk and stretched her back, checking the room for people simultaneously. They were alone in the teacher’s space; Y/N liked sneaking in here for lunch breaks or when she just felt overwhelmed, to socialize, bizarrely.

“Anyway, I’ve met him the other day. And he’s weird”.

There it is. The magical spot to hit, to light that hunting spark in Alaric Saltzman’s light green eyes. He has always been an adventurer first and everything else second. Vampire hunting was just a necessary measure in the dire conditions given to him at the point of his life.

“Bad-weird?”

“Weird-weird”, she still wasn’t sure they were completely safe chatting about this in here. She got up and closed the door gently. Then Y/N started pacing lazily between the unevenly placed desks, standing checkers to chess, in a mysterious pattern.

“He looks too good, and he acts too friendly. He is…” she tried to find the word, it was on the tip of her tongue, and yet, it escaped.

“Weird”.

“Your notoriously inaccurate gut feeling once placed an innocent man among monsters”, Ric reminded her.

She recalled that. That one time she was completely sure her neighbor Bruce killed her father, for reasons she wouldn’t be able to awaken anymore. In reality, they still didn’t know who did it, but it wasn’t Bruce as the man was away from the town the night it happened.

“Don ‘t you allow that maybe you think he’s weird because he’s cute? Sometimes you say weird when you mean adorable. Or angry. Or upset. You just generally like labeling people freaks”.

“Okay, you’re not taking it seriously”.

Ric threw himself back in the chair and sighed noisily. He studied the ceiling for some time.

“In our life, Y/N, we have every right to be paranoid about good things. After everything that’s happened every nice thing comes across as a warning. That’s a normal reaction. But if you think he’s off, I’ll check on him, sure. I mean, I will meet him inevitably, right?”

They looked at each other. Y/N shrugged.

______________________________________________________________

Ric wasn’t able to get ahold of Mal for the whole of next week, in fact, and it was strange how for the first seven days of Mal’s working Y/N was the only person who’s been talking to him. The guy even complained once that he felt like a ghost, which sparkled the whole new package of fiery theories in her. Then, the next day, she saw Mal chat with the English major student. In a rather flirtatious way, mind you; but it at least proved he was real.

Alaric was left a little puzzled after Mal had fixed his barely breathing laptop; but mostly annoyed.

‘How fast is this guy talking? Does he ever breathe or something?’

To her question, whether he was able to place Mal among any species of supernatural creatures, Saltzman replied something along the lines of yeah, a sickeningly energetic young man with ego, which in his language usually meant abnormal, but not alarming. Y/N was more than sure that Ric gave up on life and just tried to get away from the IT guy as far as possible. What happened to the previous one anyway? Some people said he’d left. Others claimed he just disappeared after Friday’s party at the Craze, a new bar opened almost on the border with Mystic Falls. Nobody really cared. Mal managed to charm just about everybody – that is, when people finally started seeing him – except a few very exhausted individuals who refused to enjoy life.

The feeling Y/N was getting about Mal was inexplicable, good, too good, in fact. She was torn between enthusiastic and careful; one feels that way when a person calls you in the middle of the night and tells you that you have won a billion dollars. How come you don’t remember buying the lottery ticket?

The fact that he had a girlfriend wasn’t all that important – Y/N craved companionship, not romance; her friends were enough but they were all carrying weight of, well, ten years of fighting this damn town. Mal didn’t have all that. He blasted music in the basement where he had built himself a mancave using old boxes and discarded cupboards from the science floors. He always smiled. He was smart. He didn’t take any shit from anybody. And for some uneven reason, he treated Y/N like she was his partner in crime. Maybe that was the most suspicious thing. Y/N always wanted an older brother, and all male figures she chose to act in that character, pushed back.

_____________________________________________________________

Damon weighed the glass in his hand lazily.

“Caroline’s been livid with you about the dance party?”

Y/N sighed, rubbing her knee. Ever since Caroline graduated, she’s been delegating her tasks to Y/N, who apparently had nothing better to do than organize two celebrations every month. No wonder she completely forgot about the selection of music for that one party that was supposed to happen at the end of the month, vaguely described as a nostalgia flick. Many times Y/N got ready to say, hey, Caroline. I have my own shit to do. If you want these events, come back to the college, get a job and do it yourself. I have tons of crying young adults every day whimpering over their dead dogs and burnt deadlines, and frankly, I deserve four holidays a year.

But she never said it, somehow.

“I am turning into a pusharound”, she realized, as she stood up, walking to the Damon’s sacred alcohol table. She took a glass which burst in a welcoming ringing, and poured herself a little of smelly golden liquid.

“I thought you liked organizing things. Whatever happened to ‘I’ll make them all dance to Stevie Nicks until their butts fall off?”

“It faded, Damon, it went down into my shit storm of a work. I am drained. I’ve been feeling completely lost for the last six months”.

The vampire’s sharp eyebrows made a gracious swing. Every time Damon did his trademark face of an Italian statue Y/N couldn’t help but remember the years when she’d been helplessly in love with him. She and her knee-length socks, and lots of jewellery, and bravery of a suicidal teenager, she thought that was enough to win his love. The disappointment was bitter.

“Why’s that?”

“Eh”, she brushed it off, relaxing deep in the sofa, outstretching her feet, “autumn was nasty, you know that kind of seasonal decline, and then, no snow in winter, and bang, it’s cold spring, and you gotta not eat again because nervous… and it felt like it’s been two days since Matt died, but when I look at the clock, it’s already mid May, and I can’t believe it. I feel like I haven’t processed his death properly, and it’s tugging on me. But I don’t really know what to do at this point. Everybody’s moved on”.

Damon drowned his face into his glass with that preoccupied look he wore when he couldn’t cope with what he started. Sometimes, he could only listen. That was the least he could do for the girl. Listen to her babbling away, and remember that it could have been much worse, she could have been much further away from him.

“Thank God I have my buddy now and I even almost figured out what to do with this shit faced party. No more parties after this one… I’ll tell her I won’t organize stuff people don’t appreciate, I mean…”

“What buddy?” Damon intervened passively.

Y/N jumped up, balancing the glass in her hand, and decided it would be best to down it until she poured it all on Damon’s couch, and he tore all her hair out. She gulped whiskey in two breaths, trying to clench her teeth so that she doesn’t puke it all back. As soon as the drink flows down and reaches whatever cells there are, it will soothe her, and clear her head. She sat on her legs, piercing Damon with a concerned look.

“There’s this new IT guy at Whitmore. He’s too cool to be true, and everybody loves him, except for Ric, and I’m sure you’ll absolutely hate him, too”.

“Why’s that?”

“He’s very chatty and charming, like a complete psychopath. He’s got dead eyes but he’s incredibly funny, and we listen to the same music. He’s always up for anything. He’s too…”

The look on Salvatore’s face said he understood exactly the type of person this guy was. Damon met many a folk like that; take Kol, that idiotic creature that was draining life of every party of people. Or early version of Jeremy, depressed yet too loud, craving attention. Or even Forbes herself; now she’s a friend, but back in the times, she was unbearable. Damon still had vague nightmares in which Caroline was trying to get him to go on a picnic in her usual commanding squeaky voice.

“So, steer his energy in doing this dance for you. And go easy on yourself, little one”.

When Damon called her that, Y/N felt like she was sixteen again, laying at the den of a tiger, if tigers dug caves or, like, very complicated dungeons, with skulls of their enemies scattered and the suggestive fires blazing along the walls. She shivered internally, asking herself, how she had managed to finally escape Damon’s glamor. She remembered being completely heartbroken, and then suddenly, she wasn’t. Good for her.

“Yeah, I’ll get him to help me. But I would be stoked if you could examine him. Ric couldn’t take him, the guy’s too colorful. I have a weird feeling about him”.

“What kind?”

She was tired of shrugging with confusion.

“Just do it. You’ll see. There’s something wrong about him”.

“Do you always hang out with people you deem suspicious?” Damon sounded painfully familiar. Ric and him, they became almost like a married couple over the years. Same old narrative, sung in slightly different tempos.

“Okay”, he gave up. “I’ll come to your nostalgia flick dance thing, and I’ll take a look at him. Will that make you happy?”

She looked at the alcohol sanctuary again.

#kai parker #kai parker imagine #kai parker x reader #damon salvatore #vampire diaries #whitmore guy

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