string theory
Supercorptober Day 2 "Swift"
thanks to @kmsdraws for the prompts
Lena has some feelings about love and Kara and universe thanks to Heisenberg and Taylor Swift
day 2 on Ao3
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It's one thing to know the fundamental limits of certainty, to reconstruct them in equations with your hand and your mind over and over. But no experiment has ever unveiled the uncertainty of the universe more than falling in love.
And yet we try.
Because love is the most beautiful kind of chaos.
Time, curious time
Gave me no compasses, gave me no signs
Were there clues I didn't see?
And isn't it just so pretty to think
All along there was some
Invisible string
Tying you to me?
Kara's voice is soft, drifting in and out with Lena's wandering thoughts. She can feel the rise and fall of Kara's chest with each breath. And Lena finds herself shifting closer, seeking comfort in the steady beat of her heart and the gentle warmth of her touch. It has been a long day, but a good one.
Time, mystical time
Cutting me open, then healing me fine
Were there clues I didn't see?
And isn't it just so pretty to think
All along there was some
Invisible string
Tying you to me?
In the darkness and far from the city, the sky seems to deepen here. The stars overhead faded into the string of lights wrapped around the porch. In the soft glow, she can just make out Kara's face still and tucks herself into her side, head resting on her chest as she feels the vibrations of her humming.
It's just them left now, but the distant sounds of their friends and family moving through the house behind them echo through the still night air and intercede the music every now and then.
And Kara has played this song enough times for Lena to know the words — sitting in the car with the windows rolled down, lying next to each other late at night when they both couldn't sleep, the park on a sunny day — but there's something different about them now. Or maybe it's her. And before she can find any reason to, her hands have pulled loose a thread from the blanket in her lap. And before she can find any reason not to, she loops it on itself once, twice, and then places it gently around Kara's finger.
Time, wondrous time
Gave me the blues and then purple-pink skies
And it's cool
Baby, with me
And isn't it just so pretty to think
All along there was some
Invisible string
Tying you to me?
Kara watches her, blue eyes curious and patient as Lena tugs at the string until it's just tight enough, her brow furrowed in concentration. She hadn't exactly thought of what comes next. "I don't —," she starts, her voice low and hesitant, "— I don't believe in fate," as if that actually explained anything.
But Kara just smiles at her. "I know," she says, stroking her thumb over the back of Lena's hand.
Lena lets out a soft sigh, twisting the loose end of the thread around her own finger. "But I believe in you."
She feels Kara shift slightly behind her, then, the subtle press of a kiss against the curve of her jaw, "I know." She watches as Kara gently unwinds the string from her finger, retying it once more to match the same loop as her own. "I believe in you too," she says as she slips the thread back around Lena's finger once more, now a connected pair.
And it's all Lena can do to just nod and settle back into her arms. All the uncertainty of the universe held back suddenly by the defiant certainty of a few simple words and a single string.
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A recent study found that if you wake up with a song in your head then it means that's your theme song for the day and you're legally required to listen to it until 11:59 PM or else
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one of the things about being an educator is that you hear what parents want their kids to be able to do a lot. they want their kid to be an astronaut or a ballerina or a politician. they want them to get off that damn phone. be better about socializing. stop spending so much time indoors. learn to control their own temper. to just "fucking listen", which means to be obedient.
one of the things i learned in my pedagogy classes is that it's almost always easier to roleplay how you want someone to act. it's almost always easier to explain why a rule exists, rather than simply setting the rule and demanding adherence.
i want my kids to be kind. i want them to ask me what book they should read next, and i want to read that book with them so we can discuss it. i want my kid to be able to tell me hey that hurt my feelings without worrying i'll punish them. i want my kid to be proud of small things and come running up to me to tell me about them. i want them to say "nah, i get why this rule exists, but i get to hate it" and know that i don't need them to be grateful-for-the-roof-overhead while washing the dishes. i want them to teach me things. i want them to say - this isn't safe. i'm calling my mom and getting out of this. i want them to hear me apologize when i do fuck up; and i want them to want to come home.
the other day a parent was telling me she didn't understand why her kid "just got so angry." this woman had flown off the handle at me.
my dad - traditional catholic that he is - resents my sentiment of "gentle parenting". he says they'll grow up spoiled, horrible, pretentious. granola, he spits.
i am going to be kind to them. i am going to set the example, i think. and whatever they choose become in the meantime - i'm going to love them for it.
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80s Vampire Movie Steddie AU
No listen hear me out
Steve is working the closing shift Friday night at Family Video (open until midnight. Fucking awful if you ask Steve)
It’s just after eleven and it’s been a surprisingly quiet night. It looks like he might actually get out of here on time for once, instead of being held up by annoying, indecisive customers who leave the store a mess
Aaaand he spoke too soon, because someone just came barreling in through front doors, panting and wild-eyed like they’re being chased by the hounds of hell (or the cops)
(Why do the weird ones always come in on Steve’s shift?)
But then Steve does a double take, because he actually recognizes this guy. Long hair, patched vest, chains–
“Munson?”
It is indeed Eddie Munson, resident drug dealer and fucking nerd of Hawkins High. He’d been doubled over, hands on his knees while trying desperately to catch his breath, but Steve’s voice seems to shock him back into action; he scrambles for the front doors and turns the lock with fumbling fingers
Shit
“Hey, man,” Steve says slowly, watching as Eddie backs away from the doors again, “I don’t want any trouble.”
Eddie looks at Steve for the first time since entering the store, and Steve is simultaneously reassured that he’s not about to be robbed, and put on edge by whatever put that look of terror on Eddie’s face
“There’s–” Eddie gasps, still trying to get his breath back, “There’s something after me!”
“Something? Like what? Like– like a dog?” Steve rounds the counter to stand by Eddie, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up (he still remembers those fucking vicious junkyard dogs he and Dustin’s friends had run into when they’d been out searching for Dustin’s cat; Steve still can’t hear barking without jumping a little)
“No, man.” Eddie shakes his head hard, hair flying. “It was – It was like–”
“Dude, spit it out.”
“Okay, look, I was doing a deal. Met my buyer at the park, next street over, right? And we’re just finishing up when this – he just looked like a guy, he walked up, and I thought we were busted, but instead, he – it–” Eddie swallows hard. “It grabbed my buyer and fucking – it ripped her fucking throat out.”
“What?”
“It had these crazy red eyes and fucking fangs and I think it was, like– drinking her blood?” Eddie’s voice is shrill, clearly still panicked, but all of Steve’s alarm quickly plummets into annoyance
He might not be a pop culture nerd, but the kids have forced him to sit through Fright Night enough times for Steve to know where this is going
“Drinking her blood, huh?” Steve asks flatly. “Like a vampire.”
“I fucking guess!” Eddie shouts, digging his fingers into his hair and tugging
Steve rolls his eyes. “Okay, man, I think you’ve been hitting your own stock a little too hard. Just take a couple of deep breaths and–”
“Harrington, I’m not making this up!” Eddie snaps, rounding on Steve. “I’m not fucking hallucinating, there’s something out there!”
Holding his hands up placatingly, Steve nods. “I know you’re freaked out right now, but there’s no such thing as vampires.”
“Tell that to the girl whose fucking throat just got ripped out!”
“Munson–”
The argument is interrupted when someone—or something—slams against the front doors
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