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#why did i take both ap chem and physics this year
justasparkwritings · 2 years
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August {III} Are You Sure?
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Previous: August II
Pairing: Kim Taehyung x Reader
Genre: Fluff, Smut
Rating: NC17
Warnings: Kissing, Making Out, Oral Sex, Consensual Safe Sex between 2, 18 Year Olds (it’s very clear), Talking About Sex, Birth Control, Swearing, Losing Virginities (antiquated I know)
Word Count: 6.7K
Summary: Two summers pass and each one gets steamier and steamier.
Notes: ARE WE FINALLY DONE WITH TEENAGE THEM? ALMOST.
Listen: August, Taylor Swift; The Last Great American Dynasty, Taylor Swift; I Think He Knows, Taylor Swift; Cinema, Harry Styles; Crush, Gavin Degraw 
Tag List: @4ksj, @jagiya, @ot7nem, @knjkitten, @teamtardis-notdead​
Tag List
Master List
7 Summers Ago
           You waited in the Adirondack chairs as the sun went down and the stars began to show. Your moms were at some dinner with both Kim’s at Bar Harbor, leaving you, EJ, Taehyung and both his siblings and yours to roam the beach. The younger Kim’s had been tucked in bed at 10PM, but left to play quietly on their ipads until their parents came home. EJ was too busy hooking up with Yoongi, who her parents somehow allowed to stay with them, and unsupervised, because EJ was most definitely not having sex. Which, wasn’t a total lie. She most definitely was having sex with Yoongi, oral sex, digit sex… all the sex that comes as foreplay before penetration. And she most definitely knew what it felt like to climax, a fleeting sensation you hadn’t yet explored.
           It wasn’t for lack of trying, but lack of time. Too many activities, too much homework, too much to prepare for senior year. Your preliminary SAT and ACT scores were good, strong but could be better. They needed to be better if you wanted a shot at an Ivy. Extracurriculars and letters of rec would do a lot for you, plus the whole two-moms and being biracial was definitely going to help as well… but that was no guarantee an Ivy would care. You spent the first part of summer organizing the lists of schools to apply to, some state schools and public institutions, then listed the six Ivy’s you wanted to try and get into: Columbia, Brown, Yale, Princeton, Cornell and Dartmouth. And Stanford, the almost Ivy. In total you had twelve schools to apply to, twelve schools to impress, twelve schools to prove your worth.
           “Hey,” a voice said behind you, and you knew without looking that Taehyung had finally cleaned up the kitchen from dinner and was coming to join you. “I stole this from my parents stash back home.”
           You took the can of beer and stared at it.
           “Underage drinking? Taehyung Kim who are you?” You asked.
           “I thought it might be fun, drink it together then bury it in the recycling bin before my parents come home.”
           “Okay,” you said and cracked the top. The first sip made you wince, why was beer so gross?
           “Do you hate it?” He asked as he sipped. In his letters to you, he’d alluded to the fact that he’d gone to a party or two or five where drinking was happening. He made it clear that it was a means to an end, a way to prove he was cool and worthy of being at the party, but he usually filled a solo cup with water and pretended he’d snuck a pour of vodka from the freezer or liquor cabinet or wherever the parents of his peers hid their hard booze.
           “Yeah, it’s nasty.” You looked at the label, not recognizing it and handed him the can again. He sipped and winced, too.
           “So beer isn’t our drink.”
           “It most certainly is not.”
           “Good to know now so that next year we’re ready.”
           “God, can we not talk about next year for like, ten minutes?” You begged.
           “Of course. What are you taking this year?”
           “AP Physics, AP Lit, APUSH, AP Studio Art. You?”
           “AP Lit, APUSH, AP Chem and AP Calc.”
           “Are we going to survive?”
           “I doubt it.”
           “Hey – you never wrote to me about Junior Prom. Did you ask that girl?”
           “Girl?”
           “Yeah, in your letters you made comments about having a crush with wide dark eyes and a smile that when it expands, reminds you of wings. You were totally crushing. Did you go to prom with them?”
           “I uh – no. I didn’t go to prom with him.”
           “Him?”
           “Yeah, I think I’m bi, or pansexual… I’m not sure yet.”
           “Oh, cool,” you shrugged. This was in fact not totally new information. “That’s why when I talked about how hot Seokjin’s become you agreed, isn’t it?”
           “Yeah, it is.”
           “He’s gotten hotter. I don’t know how that happened but it’s really fucking getting to me.”
           “Whoa – swearing too? Has one sip let you loose?”
           “Shut up!” You said swatting his arm.
           “He is looking hot, so is Namjoon.”
           “Yeah, they’re coming up for a week and bringing Hoseok and Yoongi which, seems unfair.”
           “That they have a lot of hot friends?”
           “Yeah, but I have you, and you’re like…. Hotter than all of them combined so it’s fine.”
           “Shut up,” Taehyung said blushing.
           “You’re a model, Kim.”
           “So are you, Y/N.”
           “Don’t,”
           “What?”
           “Lie. I’m no you,”
           “You don’t have to be,” He said and leaned over the arm of his chair. “You’re perfectly you.”
           You turned your head and leaned across to meet his lips. They were soft and patient, reminding you what it was like to kiss him like you had summers before.
           “Did your prom date ask you to be his girlfriend?” Taehyung asked as he pulled away.
           “No, we’re not a couple. I don’t really want to date him.”
           “Why not? I thought he was interesting and considerate?”
           “Yeah, he is, but you know,” you shrugged, allowing your sentence to hang. “I did get asked out by the captain of the varsity basketball team.”
           “Oh? Did you say yes?”
           “No.”
           “Why not?”
           “He’s an idiot and his parents are republicans. You really think my moms would allow that?”
           “That’s true. What if you fall in love at college?”
           “That wasn’t even ten minutes!”
           “Sorry, sorry!”
“It’s a moot point anyway, I’m kind of pining over someone. I guess I like the feeling of unrequited love a little too much to date.”
           “You’re wise beyond your years, but don’t let that unrequited love dictate your future.”
           “It’s not totally unrequited,” You said, knowing full well he understood you meant him.
           “No, it’s not,” he leaned in again, this time kissing you with fervor and heat. “Can we go to yours?”
           “Yeah,” you stood and took his hand, walking side by side into your cabin and to your bedroom. You shut the door, grateful that Max was crashing at Taehyung’s house with his siblings.
           Taehyung kissed you as you turned around, lips moving in tandem with yours as his hands cupped your cheek. You’d both had practice since last summer, kissing other people. Taehyung had gone out with some girl his parents had set him up with, and you had gone on a few dates with a guy named Mark who was totally fine and it more fizzled than burned out.
           “Can I,” Taehyung started, then sat back and looked at you.
           “Take my shirt off?” You filled in his unasked question, because you had the same one.    
           “Yeah?”
           “Yes.”
           It seemed like a natural progression, moving from kissing occasionally the summer before, okay and completely making out on more than one occasion, to this… to topless kissing and hands exploring. It was safe and it was comfortable, he was looking out for you and you were looking out for him. And, of course, it was Taehyung. Taehyung who you’d crushed on since you were fifteen… Your best friend, and you his.
           It was all going, rather well, until you heard the front door open and footsteps getting louder and louder as they approached your door.
           “Shit,” you muttered as you reached for your shirt and tossed it on. Taehyung did the same and sat on the floor, hoping his swollen lips and mussed hair wouldn’t give anything away.
           “Y/N?” Your mama asked as she opened the door, her eyes widening as she saw Taehyung on your rug, legs crossed, and you sitting on your bed. “You know the rules.”
           “I’m sorry,” you said quickly.
           “I should go,” he said standing quickly. “Have a good night.”
           “You too, and you, living room.”
           Your mama didn’t need anytime going from cool and collected to angered parent. She did it so quickly it could give someone who was unfamiliar with her reactions whiplash.        
           “Jackie!” she called.
           “Yes? Y/N, why are you up?”
           “It’s 10pm, it’s not that late.” You countered.
           “Don’t you have work in the morning?” she asked.
           “Yes.”
           “Taehyung was here,” mama said. “In her room, with the door closed.”
           “Y/N!” Mom said.
           Your hands shot up, defending yourself. “I’m sorry!”
           “I thought we had an understanding, no closed doors, no boys in the house when we’re not here,” your mom said.
           “I know,” you said.
           “Do we need to buy condoms?” She asked.
           “Oh my god!” You exclaimed, blushing furiously.
           “Well, you’re not on birth control, and you’re having a boy in your room with the door closed. Do we need to buy protection for you?” Mama asked, clearly and with a hint of fear that you, her precious daughter was becoming sexually active.
           “I don’t think so.”
           “But you might need them this summer?”
           “I – I don’t know,” you answered sheepishly.
           “We wanted to get you on birth control before college,” Mom said.
           “You do?”
           “Yes, you never know what could happen. The world isn’t a safe place and it’s better to be protected than to be vulnerable. But we didn’t expect, I guess we should’ve,” mama sat down, exhaling loudly.
           “You know the risks, of sex before you’re on the pill or have an IUD?”
           You nodded.
“Verbal confirmation please,” Mama requested.
“Yes,” you said clearly.
           “Even with condoms, they are not –
           “I know.”
           “I can’t believe we’re having this conversation,” Mom muttered.
           “Yeah, I had health. Remember I got an A?” You replied, regretting the snark you’d chosen for that question. You watched as your mom rolled her eyes and your mama shook her head.
           “Of course, you did, but taking a class and having it be your reality are very different things.” Mom said.
           “I’m sorry I broke the rules.” You apologized.
           “Is EJ having sex?” Mama asked.
           “Mama!”
           “It’s a valid question, dating that older boy,” Mom said.
           “No, she’s really scared that because he’s older, if something happens her parents will like totally wig out.”
           “Makes sense.”
           “I would be worried.”
           “Well luckily Taehyung turns eighteen a few months after I do,” you said. They knew, how could they not? You scrambled from the day your birthday was over all the way until his trying to find the perfect gift and mail it on time. They’d been watching you, and taking you to the post office, for years now.  
           “Right, but now you’re seventeen, so can you please promise us, you won’t do anything drastic until you’re eighteen?”
           You thought about it, what was a few months? But in a few weeks Taehyung would be back in his home and you would be in yours, and you couldn’t… you didn’t want to take that next step with some guy from school. Ew. No, if you were going to do it before college it would have to wait until next summer. Then you’d be protected, right?
           “Okay,” You grumbled.
           “I would like that in writing,” Mama said.
           “Oh Teresa, stop,” mom chuckled. “I’ll draft it in the morning.”
           “You know this is how teens end up pregnant, celibacy pacts,” you reminded them.
           “We could take her to the urgent care and get it,” Mama offered.
           “She could have side effects, what if she starts the wrong one and has a bad reaction? I’d rather take her to her pediatrician and go over options and make an educated decision instead of just shoving the pill on her.”
           “Hello?” You asked. “Can I be a part of this conversation?”
           “Of course, honey,” mom said.
           “I want an IUD. I’ve done the research, and yes they hurt and are more expensive, but they offer the best protection from unwanted pregnancy for the longest time. I want, I want that.”
           “She is our daughter after all,” mama commented.
           “Okay, when we get back we’ll take you to your doctor,” mom decided. “And you’re grounded for the week, no seeing Taehyung except at work.”
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           You arrived to the mall and sat at the empty picnic table that awaited weary workers before and after their shifts. But you weren’t alone for long, because EJ, having the day off, came to support you on your first day back.
           “Yo,” she said sitting down. “You will not believe what I heard.”
           “So, I think I’m going to start birth control,” you whispered, pulling EJ closer to you.
           “What?” she yelled, directly into your ear.
           “Yeah, my parents walked in on me and Taehyung last night and they wanted me to start before college but they’re gonna start it now.”
           “Is that what you want?”
           “Yeah, I think so? I mean, I only want to have sex with Tae, but we can’t this summer because my moms will ground me every day if I do.”
           “Oh my god did they make you sign a virgin pact?”
           “Yeah, and they asked if you’re having sex with Yoongi.”
           “I’m assuming you lied.”
           “Of course.”
           “Good, my mom doesn’t need to know anything. So you’re grounded this week?”
           “Yeah, because he was in my room with the door shut.”
           “Oh my god, ladies!” Clara exclaimed as she came up to the table, smile on her face, new summer clipboard in her hand.
           “Hi Clara,” EJ and you grumbled.
           “EJ, aren’t you supposed to be at Pirate’s Treasure Chest?”
           “I have today off.”
           “Oh, well you’ll both be excited to hear that you, Y/N, are officially moved to the candy section and out of ice cream!”
           You stared at her, unsure why that was exciting news. Ice cream was difficult, sure, but to deal with all those customers? No thank you.
           “Why?”
           “It’s because she got hot, isn’t it?” EJ asked Clara.
           “Oh my god,” you slapped her arm. The sound echoed in the near empty strip behind the stores. “This isn’t a YA summer romance, I didn’t just get hot over the school year and no one noticed.”
           “You sure?” EJ asked. “I know someone who has been thinking about you.”
           “Who?” Clara asked, then realized she wasn’t part of the conversation. “Anyway, your shift starts in five. Have you seen your boyfriend?”
           “Boyfriend?” You asked in confusion.
           “Taehyung, duh,” she said.
           “Oh, he’s probably out front, waiting for you to let him in.”
           “He wasn’t when I walked in but I’ll go double check. I’m sure he’ll be happy to have you as his work wife again.”
           Clara turned and used her key to get into the back room of the candy store, ponytail swaying and bopping as she walked. She clearly hadn’t changed in the year since you saw her.
           “She’s gonna be prom queen, isn’t she?”
           “Then marry a republican senator and eventually stand by him when his sex scandal breaks.”
           “Yikes,” you sighed. “So who has been talking about me?”
           “I’m sworn to secrecy,” EJ teased.
           “You’re the worst.”
           “Hey, EJ!” Taehyung appeared from the door Clara just entered, big smile on his lips.
           “Hi,” she said – they had been spending plenty of time together this summer before you arrived. A fact that made you insanely jealous. But you got EJ all school year, and you got Taehyung… well in ways EJ never would.
           “Y/N we gotta wash up and then I’m training you on candy,” he informed you.
           “Great, you gonna be a drill sergeant?” You asked.
           “That’s are you going to be a drill sergeant, sir, to you,” Taehyung winked, waved to EJ and disappeared back into the shop.
           “He likes you,” EJ said.
           “Considering we were topless making out on my couch, I’d say yes, he does like me.”
           “And you like him,”
           “He’s fine.”
           “Oh come on, don’t act like you don’t pine after him all school year, hoping he’ll make some long distance move and you’ll be together.”
           “I like the hope of him, never quite turning into anything real. It’s, fun. It’s breezy.”
           “It stops you from going out with other people,” EJ reminded you.
           “Who wants to date me back home anyway? No one.”
           “That’s not true.”
           “Whatever. When do Seokjin and Namjoon get here?”
           “Tomorrow night. They said they wanted to give us one night together until they steal you away and ruin your summer.”
           “I hate that they enjoy college but not enough to stay there all summer,” you said as you stood and collected your items.
           “Same. I don’t miss them at all,” EJ lied. “I’ll come by at one and we’ll bike home?”
           “I’m grounded remember?”
           “Yeah, from Taehyung, not me.”
           She was right, your moms had no problem when you rode up to the house with EJ next to you, or when she came in, gave them a hug and collapsed on the couch, ready to watch TV or play games.
           “Go swimming,” Mama said as she came out of the kitchen to stare at you and EJ. “Please, not in the house.”
           “Fine,” you groaned and changed quickly into your swimsuit.
           EJ was already outside, at the end of the dock, applying sunscreen to her arms and legs. You walked out and let her slather your back in the white concoction before doing the same to hers.
           “Are your moms really that mad?”
           “I don’t know, but I know they’re going to regret grounding me.”
           “Why?”
           “I’m so much more annoying when I can’t see Taehyung than when I can.”
           “That’s true, I can confirm that,” EJ laughed. She took the first jump, spinning and plummeting into the water. You followed suit, jumping in after her and laughing as you came up for air.
           “I think he dates other people during the school year,” you confided, your suspicion more an idea and a thought than an actual reality.
           “You do? Wouldn’t he mention it in your letters?”
           “I don’t know that he would. It took him until I asked yesterday to find out about prom. He’s allusive.”
           “In like, a hot way.”
           “Yeah, I mean he’s the hottest man I’ve ever se –
           Something wrapped around your ankle and in a swift motion pulled you under. As water filled your nose you began to fling your arms wildly, trying to hit whatever it was that had gotten to you. It’s a lake, there isn’t anything more than fish, ducks and microscopic living organisms. Nothing with a grip that could take you down. You kicked your legs, almost making contact with whatever it was as the grip released you, sending you up to the top of the water gasping for air.
           “What the fuck?” You yelled, eyes wild as you tried to land on whoever or whatever it was that had gotten you.
           You heard the laughter before you saw the face, popping out a few yards away from you, broad shoulders and symmetrical face, his windshield wiper laugh was like no ones you’d heard, besides coming from him. He was in hysterics, laughing heartily as he watched your panic turn into blind rage. EJ laughed too, because of course she had been in on it.
           “She hates you,” another voice came from the dock across from yours, and you glared at Namjoon.
           “She’s in shock, leave her alone,” Yoongi, decked out in full sun shirt and leggings, said as he sat down and dipped his pale feet into the cool water.
           “I fucking hate you, Seokjin Kim.” You yelled before climbing up the ladder on your dock. “None of you fucking talk to me.”  
           As you stomped back into your house, you could hear Seokjin calling your name.
           “It was a joke! I’m sorry!” Seokjin called.
           “I told you it was a dick move,” Namjoon said before he jumped into the water, splashing Yoongi.
           “I thought Hoseok was coming with you?” EJ asked them.
           “He’s changing still,” Yoongi answered.
           “He didn’t want to be a part of this,” Namjoon told his sister.
           “Of course not, you guys are assholes.”
           “You helped!”
           “All I did was get her in the water, I thought you were just going to be floating, not try and drown her.”
           “Whatever, it was a great prank,” Seokjin said.
           “You are going to really have to apologize to her,” Namjoon told his twin.
           “I know,” Seokjin regretted the prank almost immediately after he saw your face. He had expected you to be surprised, but he thought maybe you’d be happy he was there, happy he’d come up a day early to hang out with you and his sister. That he took some time in his busy summer, he’s working as an undergrad researcher at Northwestern all summer, to come up to the lake and be with his family. But no, you’re pissed at him, and he knows you, it’s going to last a while if he doesn’t apologize correctly.
           Seokjin hops out of the lake, having used his large wingspan and strength to pull himself up and out of the water. He stalks down your dock before turning on the sand and going to the one person’s house who will know what to do: Taehyung.
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           “Why did you think that was a good idea?” Taehyung asked, sitting in his living room with a can of sugar free root beer in his hand.
           “I thought she’d be more excited to see me than she would be mad.”
           “Why would she be excited to see you?”
           “I don’t know! I haven’t seen her since Christmas. I didn’t come home for spring break, I thought maybe she’d be –
           “Excited,”
           “Yeah, to see me.”
           “And not Namjoon?”
           “Who is excited to see Namjoon except his professors?” Jin asked.
           “I’d guess you, I mean he’s in Boston and you’re in Chicago for the year, don’t you miss him?”
           “That’s not the point of this. How do I apologize?”
           “Write her a letter.”
           Seokjin wasn’t convinced. “A letter?”
           “A letter. And get her favorite chocolates and candies. Be sincere, but not patronizing.”
           “I can do those things.”
           “Write it in your best handwriting, she cares about penmanship even though hers looks like she’s nine years old.”
           “Okay, anything else?”
           “Don’t like to her, or make up something about why you did it. Be honest,” Taehyung said.
           “Did EJ say something to you?” He asked.
           “Uh, no? Should she have?” It was Taehyung’s turn to be confused about the conversation transpiring between them.
           "No, no, she just talks a lot for someone who knows so little. Anyway,” Jin said standing. “Thanks.”
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           “Why do you care so much?” Yoongi asked that evening over dinner, where Mr. & Mrs. Kim were less than impressed with their eldest son’s prank.
           “She’s like my second sister, I shouldn’t have done it.”
           “Told you,” Namjoon muttered.
           “You shouldn’t have, what if she hurt you? Or you hurt her?”
           “She was only under for maybe ten seconds,” Jin said. “I had a loose grip on her and let her go quickly.”
           “Ten seconds is still enough to do damage to an unsuspecting person,” Mrs. Kim scolded. “Honestly Jin, you know better.”
           “I’m working on my apology!” He said defensively.
           “We ought to ground you for your foolery but you’re an adult, and that would be embarrassing for both of us.” Mr. Kim said.
           “Sorry for being a disappointment.”
           “You are not a disappointment,” Mrs. Kim told him. “You just behaved like you’re fifteen, which frankly is an age we are glad to be past.”
           “Nothing was as bad as Namjoon at thirteen,” EJ piped in. “Do you remember?”
           “The time he kicked the hole in the wall? How could we forget,” Mr. Kim laughed.
           “You did what?” Hoseok asked, turning to stare at his friend.
           “It was an accident.”
           “An accident was EJ putting stickers on her bedroom door. No, you knew what you were doing,” Mrs. Kim said.
           “I hate this family,” Namjoon groaned.
           “Honestly, same,” Seokjin said, meeting his twin’s gaze.
           He didn’t tell Taehyung that he had missed his brother during their time apart for college. He always missed him when they were apart. They’re twins, it’s part of their dna and make up to be completely locked into the other. It was terrible, freshman year, being separated for the first time, and for a long time. Neither came home for Thanksgiving, but thankfully Namjoon went to Chicago to stay with Jin. They both went home for Christmas and at Spring Break the entire family, even EJ who wasn’t on break yet, went to France. But there were still long and lonely hours. Seokjin didn’t take to making friends quite as easily as his brother, and he missed having a guaranteed companion. Not to mention Yoongi was still in state, and Hoseok was in New York and could see Joon more frequently. Phone calls and texting did little to fill the void, and Jin really regretted, at least the first few months, that he’d turned down the option of going to Northeastern with his brother.
           “I think we’re great,” EJ said as she finished the last of her grilled asparagus, and smiled at Yoongi who happily grinned back.
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           “You have to talk to him,” Mama said the next day as you avoided spending time with EJ or listening to Seokjin.
           “I do not. He made a dick move and I don’t have to forgive him yet.”
           “Doesn’t she have consequences for swearing?” Max asked as he ate his cereal. Finally old enough to work, he’d scored a job at Gunner’s Golf Pros caddying and working the snack shack.
           “She’s already grounded,” mom reminded him.
           “Yeah, but she still gets to hang out with EJ and Taehyung at work. How is that even a punishment?”
           “Because she really wants to spend time with Taehyung, who she only sees for a month out of the year. Imagine you had a friend like that and mom and I said you couldn’t see them? How would you feel?”
           “Max doesn’t have friends,” you commented.
           “Why are you so mean to me?”
           “I love you, that’s why.”
           “Okay, love and being mean do not equal each other,” Mama said.
           “We know,” Max and you said in unison.
           “Please, Seokjin has been texting for weeks asking when we’re having a family bbq and now you won’t speak to him. Maybe he’s trying to say he’s sorry the only way he knows how.”
           “By being obnoxious?” You asked.
           “By being genuine and authentic.” Mom said.
           You shrugged, staring at the last remaining pieces of your cereal, floating helplessly in the oat milk of your bowl. “I don’t know why he’s being either.”
           “He’s a sweet boy, well, young man.” Mama said.
           “He’s fine.”
           “Have you noticed how handsome he’s gotten?” Mom asked.
           “Can we please not discuss Seokjin has attractive?” Max requested.
           “Yeah, that’s gross,” you agreed.
           A knock hit your front door and Max ran off to get it. You could hear him a little, and recognized the deeper voice speaking to him as Seokjin’s. You rolled your eyes because of course that asshole would show up at your door, unannounced and want to speak with you. Wasn’t he supposed to be sleeping in?
           “Here,” Max said, handing you an envelope with your name written in pretty hand lettering, most likely done by EJ.
           “What?”
           “It’s from Jin. He wants you to read it.”
           “Why?” You asked him.
           “I don’t know, he just said to give it to you, and this,” Max passed you a large bag of candy, which made no sense, how had he gotten into The Confectioners Corner before it was open? Let alone known to buy your favorites?
           “He’s doing this on purpose,” you declared.
           “What is he doing, honey?” Mama asked.
           “He’s trying to get me to think about him all day. Either I read this letter now and think about it all day, or I don’t read it and think about what it could say until my double shift is over and I can come home and read it.”
           “Which one is worse?”
           “Not knowing,” you answered quickly.
           “So go read it and then get on that bike and go to work,” mom said.
           You raced to your bedroom and carefuly opened the letter. Inside was a piece of stationary that was clearly EJ’s.
           Dear Y/N,
           I’m so sorry I scared you yesterday in the water. I wanted to have a bit of fun with you, remind you of the fun we had before I went to college. I think I was feeling insecure about how you’d feel, seeing Namjoon and me after we’d been away for so long. You’re like another sister to me, and I missed you. God that sounds pathetic, but you’re a family member so it’s true. I’m sorry I scared you… I was feeling nostalgic for the times we used to – well I guess the times Joonie and I would tease you or chase you around probably were hell for you… sorry for those too.
           Forgive me? Please?
                                                                                   XX,
                                                           Jin
          You laughed as you read the letter again and again. What a little dork. You took your cellphone out of your pocket and texted Seokjin.
You: you loser
Jin: did you read it?
You: yeah, I did. Thanks for the candy.
Jin: do you forgive me?
You: I’ll think about it while I’m at work
Jin: that works for me
You: for what it’s worth, I missed you too. but if you tell anyone I said that I will deny it and say Max got to my phone and texted you
Jin: glad to know you only admit you care about me under threat
You: Well you only said you missed me because you embarrassed your parents
Jin: how’d you know?
You: You’re sister has been my best friend since birth, idiot
Jin: why are you so mean to me?
You: I am not
Jin: you’d never call Joon an idiot
You: he’s smarter
Jin: I did better on my SATs
You: whatever
Jin: don’t you have a job to get to?
You: Yeah – I’ll see you later
Jin: and you’ll forgive me, too?
You: we’ll see
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6 Summers Ago
           “Are you sure?” Taehyung asked the following year on July 31st, as he lay next to you on your bed.
           “Yeah, are you?”
           “I am if you are…. I wanted it to be with you.”
           “Yeah? Me too,” you whispered, then kissed him quickly as your shaking hands moved down to unbutton his shorts. You could feel him against your hand, hardening as your body somehow moved with his.
           “Do you have –
           “Yeah and I got an IUD so we’re like, super safe.”
           The idea of losing your virginities to each other had come from well…. Both of you. In letters traded over the school year, you’d discussed how far you’d gone in your hook ups with each other. The wandering hands, the temptation to go farther, the burning want that took over both your bodies whenever you were together. Taehyung wanted you, all of you, and you wanted him too. But you’d promised you wouldn’t do anything, not just with Taehyung, but with any boy until you were 18. A weird pact your moms wanted you to agree to in case you somehow slipped up last summer. You hadn’t, and during the year your want to explore sex with someone you trusted grew and grew and finally, you mentioned sex to Taehyung. He too was growing in curiosity, but had more access to porn and dirty magazines than you did. He was curious, but only if he could be curious with you.
           Your theory of him dating people during the school year was squashed, he wasn’t dating anyone, just quietly pining over someone he couldn’t ever really have… and of course you knew that to be you.
           “Can I, can I touch you?” You whispered.
Your moms had let you come up a day early to get ready before starting work, with a double shift, tomorrow, August 1st. Taehyung had been up at Lake Augusta for a while, like always, and waited for you outside your cabin when you drove up.
           What started as a hug hello soon became a heavy make out on your bed, which led to shirts (and a bra) being tugged off as his hands, consensually, worked to explore you.
           “Yeah,” he said, nodding. You watched him carefully as you slid your hand down his exposed torso, unintentionally teasing him as you caught the bearings of his body. How soft his skin was, how toned his stomach felt and yet still remained soft. You’d seen him shirtless before, but this was totally different. Your hand continued down, dipping into the hem of his shorts and finding purchase on his hardening cock, a sensation you had never experienced before. Slowly, like EJ had taught you, you began to stroke him up and down, eyes not leaving his face as he fluttered his shut. His little moans were encouraging, as was the precum dripping from his tip. You wanted him. Your body was telling you how deeply you wanted him, and his was pleading with you for more. You picked up your speed, and Taehyung thought he could see stars.
           “Wait,” He said, taking your hand from him and holding it to his chest.
           “What? Did I do something wrong?” You asked.
           “No, I just… I think I’m going to come if you keep doing that and I’d really like to you know, come inside you,” he muttered the end of his sentence, embarrassed by his own desire.
           “Oh! Okay, I don’t know, I think I’m ready?” You asked, assessing how your body was feeling.
           “Lay back,” he said. “Can I take these off?”
           Taehyung trailed his fingers across the hem of your underwear, waiting for you to give him permission.
           “Yeah,” you said and held your breath. He was the first boy to see you…. naked. And exposed.
           His hands were delicate as they pulled the cotton down and tossed them into a pile with your sun dress. He parted your legs with his hands and knelt in front of your cunt. Fingers lithe and gentle, he stroked between your lips, feeling the soft warmness of them, and admiring the liquid wetness that coated his fingers.
           “Yeah, but like, I can maybe put a finger in, or two before?” He asked. You nodded, having read about fingering and heard about it from EJ. She was so excited for you to finally have sex, as she and Yoongi had started immediately after she turned 18. Taehyung nodded and using his other hand, held your legs open. He gently eased a finger into you, listening as you gasped and adjusted to it. Slowly pumping in and out, your body adjusted quickly to the sensation.
           “More,” you muttered, a moan leaving behind it.
           “Okay,” he nodded, eyes fascinated by how your body was moving. He inserted his middle finger too.
           “Gentle,” you said, feeling more of a stretch with his two fingers than you had before.
           “Do you want me to stop?”
           “No,” the firmness of your voice surprised you both, but your eyes told him the truth, you were really enjoying this.
           He continued to pump in and out of you until he felt like he might explode from the sounds you were making and the sight of you before him. He carefully pulled his fingers out and did, what you thought could possibly be the most insane act, he licked them.
           “Oh my god, why did you do that? We’re on a towel!” You scolded.
           “I was curious. You know a lot of people like to eat –
           “Don’t say the p- word.”
           “Fine, a lot of people do oral sex before they have penetrative sex. We haven’t done that, so I was curious what you tasted like.”
           He was so matter of fact about everything.
           “What do I taste like?” You asked, dreading the answer.
           “I don’t know how to describe it, but you taste like you.”
           “Not like pineapple, or sweet or gross?”
           “No, just like you. I don’t know how else to describe it. Do you want to –
           “No thank you.”
           “Condom?” He asked, and watched as you reached into your bag, which had been lugged up because it contained contraband, and pulled out a fresh pack.
           “Moms said I’d probably need it this summer so,” you shrugged nervously and watched as Taehyung opened the box, pulled out a foil and tore it open. He stood to take off his pants and while he stood, fully naked and unashamed, slipped the condom over himself.
           “How’d you?”
           “Health class, lots of cucumbers and bananas, lots of practice.”
           “Oh,” you said, shocked a school was that comprehensive. He crawled back over you, and separated your legs to slate between them.
           “Are you sure?” He asked again.
           “I am. Yes. Are you?”
           “Yeah, fuck yeah I am,” he said, blushing at his use of profanity.
           “Go slow,” you instructed, and watched as he lined himself up with your entrance. You figured it was probably good he had fingered you, that way he knew where he was meant to be.
           It burned, gently, as he slowly inched himself further and further into you. You winced, eyes closed, face screwed up into a pained expression as he fully sheathed himself in you. He didn’t move, he barely breathed, as Taehyung waited for you to say something, anything.
           “Move, slowly please,” You said, and he did so, gently pumping himself in and out of you.
           “Oh my god,” Taehyung said into your ear. He finally got it, why every guy viewed sex as this godly experience he was just waiting to have. He imagined they felt that way because it was sex, and from the thirty seconds of it he’d had, he was feeling that way too. But maybe all his friends, or people in magazines, had had their first time with someone they deeply loved and cared about, like he was.
           “Oh my god,” you muttered as the pain eased and pleasure took over. He felt, good? That’s what sex is supposed to feel, good?
           “Yeah?” He asked, unsure what your oh my god meant.
           “Yeah, it feels good.”
           “I’m not - I’m not going to last much,” he said as his breath became more panicked and sputtered.
           “That’s okay,” you said, having done your homework on the male experience.
           “Okay, because I’m going to –
           Taehyung didn’t have much time to finish his sentence as he gave one final thrust and came. You laid, with him on top of you, for a moment while he collected himself.
           “Shit,” he said, and as he pulled out of you, he took off the condom and tied it before dropping it in your garbage can. “Keep your legs open.”
           “Why?” You wondered, staring up at his glorious form.
           “I’m going to go down on you. Why should I be the only one that comes?”
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           “Do you feel like, changed?” Taehyung asked as you sat on the Adirondack chairs, sipping a homemade vanilla milkshake.
           “Uh, ask me tomorrow when I’ve had time to process,” you said.
           “That’s fair.”
           “Are you nervous?” You asked, glancing sideways at him.
           “For college?”
           “Yeah, for USC, big shot.”
           “Completely. Are you?” He asked.
           “For Columbia? Yeah, New York is scary and big and so far away. Why am I doing this? I ask myself that every day.” You shared.
           “You’re going to be incredible,” Taehyung assured.
           “I don’t know about that, but I’ll figure it out.”
           “You will, I guess I will too?”
           “You have to, we both have to. We’re the oldest, we can’t fuck up.” You remind him.
           “That’s true.”
           “At least we have one thing checked off our lists.”
           “Are there more?” He asked.
           “Yeah, I think we’ve got a few more to complete before summer ends.”
           “More repeats of tonight though, right?” He smirked.
           “Oh definitely, we definitely need more practice.” You blushed as you finished your milkshake. “I’m glad it was with you.”
           “You’re the only one,” Taehyung said, like above all else, no matter what happened the next year at college, you were bound by bodily fluid and something like love, to this moment, and to each other.
Next: August IV
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tielt · 1 year
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Transgender people have a fairly intra-regulated population and we rely on a lot of anecdotal evidence because there aren't well funded studies. This unfortunately means that the echo chamber effect is strong, this in no way discredits that the experience is real. I'm nonbinary femme gender agnostic, gender queer and somewhat solitary. My views are most def not the community views and my contemplations darker as I have multiple sclerosis and oft feel disintigrating. I'm in another transitory period regarding mental health and I decided to check out what effect testosterone would have. Before transitioning I read up on neurological research to see how it could effect multiple sclerosis and learned that both T & E have neurologically protective properties and my doctor told me testing hormone balance was probably safe. I'm adding a spoiler/censor bar for warnings. Estrodiol suppresses hormonal generation of testosterone and I briefly stopped taking it to test my mental health safety/modulation. I have a lot of reasons I did this, curiosity being the only required one, well being was the primary one. I'm posting this because I want trans connections to know what my experience was, but it could elucidate some things to others, but I doubt it would convert anyone. i'm not carrying a bible.
Relevant Basis/Education (UC Berkeley) Physics(into 3rd year) Math 2 full years + discrete 1 year chem/bio (not as much as a nurse), degree in CompSci(probability/analytical theory) AP Psychology, rigorous self-study in cog-sci, likely laden with superstitions & head-cheese ghosts. -obviously I'm not a doctor-
My experiences are not the norm, they are a sliver of a sliver and should be read as such. I'm non-binary/femme, low filter and its honestly a weird post that belongs nowhere. TW: everything, I tried to keep it raw/explicit to experience and perceptions. Please be kind to others. Before you express your opinion, did you wonder why anyone gives a fuck about your opinion? Anecdotal bias/placebo bias++ is heavy in personal accounts, talk to your doctor.
Estradiol=E, Testosterone=T, Spironolactone=spiro Before: E taken 2-3 years with regularity, spiro 6months not for 2 years. Pertinent Wellness criteria/conditions Psychosis/Depression/Suicidality/Fatigue/Social Withdrawal
Testosterone for my case returned approximately 3 weeks after stopping E, 1.2/1.3 months to what felt like approximately full strength T levels. Estradiol injections tapered slightly before that.
psychosis: Anecdotal bias/placebo-bias++ First the main one I'm studying psychosis, psychosis onset for me occurred before starting estradiol, but after starting spiro. I assumed it was the stress of a lot of conflict around that time of coming out since spiro is 100% a stealth drug. For me spiro didn't feel like it changed anything I stopped taking it after starting E because it didn't seem to modify my state of mind and it can cause/worsen depression which is a lifelong struggle for me and E/T level tests showed healthy levels not taking it. Psychosis was reduced during this recent period of natal T levels, but my well being was absolutely horrible will return to why. Unfortunately no conclusion can be reached about hormonal modulation of psychosis as it comes and goes on it's own accord with seemingly no trigger for long or short periods.
intrusive thoughts/instability: Anecdotal bias/placebo-bias++ While seemingly-foreign psychosis type signal decreased, I felt constantly negative about myself in a more constant intrusive thoughts way. I felt more outgoing in general and tended to seek to express myself in various ways but it usually left me feeling negative about myself and my role in any encounter. Placebo effects I'm certain added to whatever hormones did. I think of it this way, we expect boys to act like little shits and they do to be sure. I feel like it is analogous to the Stanford prison experiment. If you don't know what that is you should, it is a fundamental thing about humans everyone should know. Boys will be boys is such a horrible thing to face. Even if my actions and communications had not changed at all in this state my experience was that was what is expected of me. The absolute weirdness of this set of things completely internal and objectively separate from what anyone else is assuming was my state as if others even could know when blind. Inconclusive. (placebo dominant)
emotional well being: Anecdotal bias/placebo-bias Two emotional problems disappeared for me while on E. Anger in it's hot form, while I'm overly reserved and have most times before E I was prone to a pent-up kind of anger that was not expressed. I'm not saying E-modulated humans don't get angry but I realized whatever memories in that pocket refer to has not happened to me in years. Frustration/irritation for sure but not hot anger. The other is emotion surge/thought train surge. You ever can't stop thoughts that seem to come one after another, yeah this went away for me also when I stopped T. Hot anger did not return, possibly takes considerably longer. The surges returned in strength, often were accompanied by recurring self judgements around fairly inert social interactions or harmless but maybe clumsy or slightly aggressive things that seem shallow. The conclusions around this one are discountable if you consider confirmation bias. This is exactly what explicates my views on T, but the reduction/removal of these occurred on E without knowing that would happen. The negative reduction occurring on E (misnomer would be to say positive since it's reduced effect) is one I trust in this case even though the return ('Positive' nomenclature classifier) effect could be placebo driven they both suggest the same result.
depression/suicide I started an SSRI 1.5 years ago and have taken it for granted that I haven't had active suicidal impulses. O boy did that change on T. I wasn't preparing or attempting, but I did constantly feel like I needed to know how to leave need be the needs be worse. Unfortunately, I have other factors that are contributing namely fiscal. I've taken time off work and my savings are gone, the last time I was broke I tried to exit stage left. I'm not going to go into details but most days I'm not able to function and part of the reason I wanted to test my hormonal system was to see if re-modulating could contribute to a return to work life. Depressive symptoms have been bad enough that I haven't even felt up for video games so I consider this a false premise as was expected. I don't feel like my desire to do things was diminished, but i don't feel that the juice to propel on desires was present. Along this vein pre-dating this experiment I have felt that adderall isn't doing what it's been doing for me previously. I started taking this after MS onset as my ADHD became unmanageable, I should have taken it earlier in my life but before MS I had an Amish mentality toward pharma even after spending my 20s living a better living through chemistry entheogenic life. in for a penny in for a pound aside pharma keeps me alive for the last 10ish years, I need to do a Adderall vacation to reset but it's as dangerous as T when you've got no juice in your brain soup.
Result: testosterone is a shit salad, don't want nothing to do with it. My experiences are not normal for the social group I feel part of. Queer is how I communicate my identity unless I'm talking to a gender scientist. Mostly because I don't frankly give a shit what most people think about it and this not normal it is appropriate reaction to popular opinion. While I do unfortunately care what people think of me as an entity there isn't much receptivity about medical issues from not medical doctors. Part trauma and dissassociation, partly feelings of detesting the status quo, regardless it is straight up not a situation that is any one elses to delegate and this shit is complicated. It would be nice to know without having to go through finding out if my presenting self was as negative as my experience of it was introspectively. Unfortunately my trust in others to not push their opinions through any means means won't believe that others have considered my well being in attempting to adjust my assumptions unless it conforms to my bias. Weirdly I haven't had many completely uninitiated interactions and for that I'm grateful. I wasn't always this misanthropic, often auts are reflectively misanthropic defensively and I think I've been that a long time. Often I feel like I didn't know how to communicate before E, like it was constricted in ways it isn't now. Biased? for sure. My body feels like more of a home now even as age/MS degenerates it which I consider to be the goal I wanted to be met regardless of what hopes I had for my well being. Also trading pockets for tits and a plumper ass, are you kidding take my pockets and shitty societal expectations. Anecdotal bias/placebo-bias++/talk to your doctor
I'm not into fencing.
That is good place to stop reading unless you wanna hear about bodily fluids and chop shop blech blech. TW: body-fluids/surgery/penis . . . . . . . . . . . . . . I'm in the smaller subgroup of TGirls that has not had an Orchiectomy. I've had my tubes snipped as MS is degenerative and can be genetically inheritted. Even snipped you secrete semen food, this stops when you take E. At natal function hormone levels this secretion returned, I don't care for it but I've not heard this detail before. Sometimes you can have kids after restoring natal hormones sometimes not. I don't tuck and honestly other people make weird assumptions about chopping shit off willy nilly. Make sure you get the full DL on vaginoplasty before an Orchi. After this hormone cycling I'm into the idea of an Orchi, I don't tuck so it's not mandatory for me but now I know T is as horrible as I thought. I'm not looking to go under the knife again, but it is less invasive than other operations. My libido was really high on return of natal T maybe to an unhealthy degree. Climax/orgasm stayed mostly femme adjusting slightly back towards masc type (shorter and boring). I've not had a period. Hormones are powerful though. I'm not the type that would discourage placebo effect experiences if it is that. The placebo question does not deny your experience. The first time I had Estro it triggered euphoria, which I don't know if it was placebo. I believe that many TGirls experience this and that makes it real. I reject that we could be safer not being comprehensively informative and explicitly honest. Also that every brain is different and that I may have some defects related to autism that blocks that. There is an undue pressure on trans women to conform to absurd standards as women are assumed to conform to...
I have no idea how transgender studies can be done ethically, it sounds extremely difficult. -I'm not a doctor- | sed -e 's/exhausted/tits/g'
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nottinghil1 · 3 years
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i am currently losing my mind over being assigned two big physics projects for next friday when it is literally ap exam season.
how am i supposed to live when i have to make a fucking microscope and i don’t understand anything about lenses
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knuffled · 3 years
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just practice - chapter twelve
thanks for reading! i promise i didn’t mean for it to be so angsty, but the road to hell is paved with good intentions or whatever the idiom is. anyhow, i hope you enjoy it, and it would mean a lot if you took the time to reblog or comment on AO3! i have been replying to every comment chapter 8 or 9!
read on AO3
The January sky was gray. It was not late, but darkness had already fallen. Snowflakes fell in a flurry, only briefly illuminated when passing beneath a street lamp. It collected on the roadside and turned to slush beneath the wheels of cars passing by. There was something about driving in the dark that had always appealed to her. Something about the gentle whirring of the motor, the luminescent lights on the dashboard, lurid in their juxtaposition with the velvet dark, and the effortless way the wheels glided against the tarmac had a way of putting her at ease.
The scenery was similar to the night of New Year’s Eve but duller. Grayer. The image of Percy, wreathed in a halo of moonlight, arose again unbidden in her mind’s eye, but there was no sight of the moon tonight. The clouds had seen to that.
She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the not-kiss. Ever since that night, the sense of lack had never left her. It carved a hollow for itself in the center of her chest and consumed anything that trespassed its event horizon. Like a black hole, not a void.
Annabeth had spent nearly everyday agonizing about the feeling and what it meant, but it defied any attempt to be known. All she could decipher was the sense of dissatisfaction, like hunger, that gnawed at her, but there was no urgency to it. It merely sat there, an immovable object. She found it grating, but not enough to where it compelled her to act. So she tolerated it.
She pressed her lips into a hard line and pulled into the Seneca Falls high school parking lot. She was late, like always. Percy’s meet had started nearly a half-hour ago. Annabeth stepped out of her car and ducked her neck behind the collar of her jacket as she jogged to the front door.
It was dark inside the school. Only half of the lights in the hallways were lit, and those that were flickered erratically. Annabeth followed the signs posted to the wall, guiding her to the pool. She was baffled by the fact that it took her nearly five minutes to find the pool, at the far end of the building. But eventually she drew close enough to hear the noise of the crowd rumbling from behind closed doors.
Annabeth opened the door tentatively to peer inside and was immediately accosted by the smell of chlorine. Her heart dropped into the pit of her stomach. There was a heat going on. She prayed that it wasn’t Percy’s. Otherwise, the entire drive down to Seneca Falls would have been for nothing. Annabeth craned her head further inside, trying to make out the competitors, but she was too far away to tell.
When the heat ended, she released a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding and slipped inside. On her way to the bleachers, she scanned the crowd and felt a rush of relief when Piper waved to her from the fourth row. She had to squeeze past a family to reach Piper, and the seat was uncomfortable when she sat down. The screwheads dug into her thighs, making her grimace.
“Please tell me I didn’t miss Percy’s heat,” Annabeth said.
Piper popped a cheeto in her mouth and shook her head. “Nah, you’re totally fine. Want some cheetos?”
Annabeth shook her head. “Those things have texture like cardboard.”
“More for me then,” Piper said, shrugging. “I was worried you weren’t going to show.”
Annabeth raised an eyebrow. “I just had some stuff to deal with after school, and then it started snowing like crazy outside so I had to drive slower than normal.”
“Is it that project or whatever for Mrs. Dodds’s class? Jason has been complaining about it all week,” Piper asked.
Annabeth shook her head. “Taking AP Chem with that harpy is like getting your fucking teeth pulled. I just needed to review something for the english paper with Edmonds.”
Piper sighed melodramatically. “Still, so diligent. Truly a model student.”
“Fuck off.”
Piper balled up her now empty bag of cheetos and shook her head incredulously.
“I seriously can’t believe you aren’t feeling even a little bit of senioritis. Jason’s like that too. A pair of freaks, the two of you are. Mayhaps it has something to do with the fact that you’re both blonde. Seems to give one a proclivity for masochism.”
“I thought that the fact that we both unironically enjoy running stupidly long distances would have tipped you off about that by now,” Annabeth said lightly.
There was a pause before Piper cleared her throat conspicuously and said, “So what’s new with you, Annababe?”
“That was a real smooth transition there, Pipes,” Annabeth said.
Piper rolled her eyes and said, “Fine, you win that round. Happy? We can go back to the part where you were answering my question now, please.”
“Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you, but there’s nothing new on my end,” Annabeth lied.
“How are things going with Percy?”
Annabeth snorted and crossed her arms over her chest. “Are you going to ask me that everytime you see me?”
“Yes, now spill.”
“You know? You can be a real piece work sometimes, McLean.”
Piper threw an arm around Annabeth’s shoulder, grinning, and pulled her in close to press a kiss to Annabeth’s cheek, making her scowl.
“I bully you out of love, darling.”
Annabeth gave her a weary look. “So you admit that it’s bullying.”
Piper waved a hand dismissively. “Semantics, shemantics.”
“How come you never harass Percy like this?” Annabeth grumbled.
“Oh, I do,” Piper said brightly. “All the time, in fact.”
“Really? And what does he say when you do?”
“He usually comes to me on his own, funnily enough,” Piper said pointedly. “Though, I will admit that it has been a while since I’ve had the chance to have a proper talk with him.”
“I know this might boggle your mind, but some people appreciate privacy, Piper,” Annabeth said, rolling her eyes.
Piper opened her mouth, undoubtedly to say something clever, but Annabeth’s attention was pulled away by the fact that Percy was lining up in front of the pool. Three of his teammates stood in front of him, and it took Annabeth a moment to figure out why.
“Wait, he’s doing a relay?” Annabeth asked. “I thought he was doing freestyle, like always.”
“Fuck if I know,” Piper said, shrugging.
“State is next month,” Annabeth said, frowning. “What is he doing?”
Although Annabeth knew how intensely he practiced, she was still taken aback by his decision to not compete for the event he was doing at State: freestyle. She tried to glean some insight from his body language, but she found herself quickly distracted when Percy interlaced his fingers and stretched his arms away from himself, making the muscles of his upper back flex in response.
All at once, she found herself hyper-aware of the fact that practically all of his body was up for display. Her face flushed immediately, but she couldn’t force herself to look away. She’d seen him compete at meets countless times, but there was something different now.
Since when had his shoulders been so broad? How had she never noticed the beautiful curve of his spine or the sharp line of his jaw when he set it in concentration?
Over the years, Annabeth had heard her fair share of vulgar comments made by girls in her school about Percy’s physique. It wasn’t uncommon for many of them to show up at swim meets just to ogle at him. She had always found their behavior disgusting and objectifying. More than anything, it angered her that people talked about her best friend like that without even knowing him, like he was just a slab of meat. Annabeth had even snapped and chewed them out for it on more than one occasion.
Now, however, Annabeth couldn’t help understanding where those comments had come from, even though they were repulsive. She could no longer deny the fact that her best friend was gorgeous, even when he stood among other swimmers. Some of them were more physically impressive, sure, but Percy was imposing in his own right, trading impractical bulk for something more lithe and graceful. The untamed intensity that competition teased out of him was just the cherry on top.
Annabeth caught herself staring and immediately felt nausea and self-loathing rolling through her. She was acting like a fucking creep.
“Well, that might be the first time I’ve ever seen you checking Percy out so shamelessly,” Piper said, smirking.
Annabeth turned to her sharply, her face prickling. “I-It feels gross. Like I’m one of those groupies that show up at his meets just to perv on him.”
Piper snorted and said, “Annabeth, you’re nothing like them. You actually know him, for one thing. Besides, it’s not wrong to check out your boyfriend, you know.”
Annabeth mustered an uneasy smile and nodded. She tried not to squirm in her seat and to focus on the race instead, but her skin was hot. Uncomfortably so.
The first members of the relay stepped and took their places on the platform. Once they were settled, the official blew his whistle and they dove into the water. Westwood’s first swimmer did well, managing to stay in second place before handing it off to his teammate. She didn’t really pay much attention though. As long as there wasn’t too big a gap between first and second, they were fine. Percy was anchor for the relay and he was fast enough to make up that distance if push came to shove.
Still, Annabeth couldn’t help thinking that there was something off about Percy. She couldn’t say what it was, but he looked more tense than normal. As a competitor, one of the things Annabeth envied most about him was how relaxed he was at meets. Annabeth always had to wrestle with anxiety, but Percy had confessed to her that he barely ever felt nervous. If it was there, his focus was so finely honed that it didn’t even register to him. This was the first time that she had seen him look so jittery at a meet.
Her suspicions were only further solidified when Percy finally dove into the water. Usually, he barely disturbed the water when he breached it, but this time the water burst like he had belly flopped. It wasn’t a great start but they were still in second, so as long as he didn’t panic, there was no need to worry.
But he looked oddly sluggish. There was something wrong with his form. It lacked its usual effortless finesse and looked almost awkward. He slipped into fourth place by the time he kicked off the opposite end of the pool, and it didn’t look like he would be able to recover the distance.
Annabeth slid to the edge of her seat and worried her lip, praying that Percy would be able to figure something out, but at the end of the relay, Westwood finished in 5th place.
Percy stood there with a hand pressed against the pool wall and stared into the water blankly, his shoulders hunched. Eventually, one of his teammates helped pull him out of the pool, but they all looked as confused as Annabeth felt. This was uncharted territory for all of them.
His teammates look at one another, at a loss for words, before his coach pulled him away and had a hushed conversation with him. Annabeth couldn’t make out what they were saying over the noise of the crowd, but Percy’s posture never changed. His coach gave him an awkward pat on the shoulder and left to go deal with the team. Percy stood there for a few seconds before eventually dragging himself into the changing room.
Annabeth turned to Piper, hoping for an explanation, but she only reflected the worry Annabeth felt herself. They made their way down from the bleachers and waited at the entrance of the changing rooms. They had to wait for longer than she’d expected. Even though Percy had been the first to enter, he was the last to leave. When he did finally exit the locker room, his hands were curled tightly around his swimming bag and his hair was sopping wet, like he hadn’t even bothered drying it.
When he noticed them, he mustered a weary smile. “Ah, look! It’s my two favorite girls.”
Annabeth and Piper exchanged glances before Piper cleared her throat and softly said, “How are you feeling, Perce?”
Percy stopped smiling and pressed his lips into a thin line. “Not so hot, honestly.”
“Is there anything we can do for you?” Piper asked.
Percy rubbed at his eyes with his palms and shook his head. “Um, no— I-I’m just tired. I’ll be fine once I get some sleep.”
“You just had an off day,” Annabeth ventured. “It happens to the best of us.”
He set his jaw and looked away from them. “I really don’t wanna talk about it.”
Annabeth balled her hands into fists. She was utterly useless in situations like this. The situation only felt worse when Piper remained uncharacteristically silent. This was supposed to be her forte, not Annabeth’s — if she didn’t know what to say, Annabeth was screwed.
Piper glanced at her, trying to communicate something, but Annabeth didn’t know what she was trying to say. They stood there for a few more moments before Piper deflated with a sigh and shoved Annabeth towards Percy without warning, making Annabeth stumble.
“Well, I suppose I’ll let the girlfriend handle this,” Piper said with affected cheer. “Gotta go pick Jason up from the library anyhow.”
Annabeth turned to glare at her, but she paused when she caught the tick of Percy’s jaw when Piper said the word ‘girlfriend’. The gesture stoked the flames of helplessness burning inside her to even larger blaze. Annabeth turned to Piper in one last desperate attempt to ask for help, but Piper had already turned on her heels and walked away.
It seemed that Piper had thrown her to the wolves. Annabeth balled her hands into fists and tightened her jaw, feeling utterly lost. Piper was expecting too much from her. She didn’t know what the fuck she was supposed to do. She didn’t even know where to begin.
She tried looking at Percy for some insight, but he just looked utterly dead inside. There was something so wrong about that, like someone had extinguished the sun.
The floor squeaked underfoot when she shifted on her heels and wracked her brain for some combination of words that wouldn’t make the situation worse. It took all of thirty seconds for her to realize that she wasn’t going to come up with anything, so she decided to start with something easier.
“C’mon, let’s go to Martha’s,” Annabeth offered. “I’ll even buy you a milkshake.”
Percy dragged a hand across his face and said, “I’m exhausted right now. I just wanna go home.”
Annabeth shook her head. “I can’t let you do that. You’ll just spend all night beating yourself up if I let you go.”
Percy didn’t disagree with her, but he didn’t decide to go with her either. Annabeth screwed her eyes shut and exhaled fully. Then, she stepped forward and took his hand in her own and gave it a squeeze. It was enough to get Percy to actually look at her for the first time all night. She was struck by the fragility she saw in his eyes. No, fragility wasn’t the right word. More like vulnerability, more raw, more open.
“Look, I just don’t want you to be on your own tonight, okay? But if you really do want to go home, I won’t stop you,” Annabeth whispered.
There was a pause before Percy murmured, “Martha’s is fine.”
She almost asked him if he was sure before she thought better of it. “You should dry your hair or you’ll catch a cold again. It’s pretty brutal outside.”
Percy nodded and set down his swimming bag and dropped to a crouch. He tried to unzip the bag to find his towel, but the zipper was caught on something and wouldn’t budge. He tried to get it to work three more times, each attempt more violent than the next, until he stopped and sat down, shoulders hunched.
“It’s not working,” he said blankly. “Why isn’t it working?”
Annabeth crouched beside him and gently tugged the bag out of his grasp, saying, “Here, let me.”
It took her a few seconds to figure out part of his swimming trunks were caught under the zipper. Getting it out of the way took longer than she would have liked, but eventually she managed to tease the bag open. Once she did, she rummaged in the bag for the towel buried at the bottom and turned back to Percy with victorious smile.
“Took some work, but I managed to-” Annabeth’s smile dropped.
Tears were flowing silently down Percy’s face, and he bit his lower lip to keep it from quivering. Before her mind could catch up with her body, Annabeth dropped the towel and threw her arms around him. His breath hitched at first, but then he melted into her embrace and buried his face in the crook of her neck. It hurt to feel his tears straining her shirt and the spastic way his shoulders shook behind her palms.
“Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay. Just let it out. I’ve got you,” Annabeth whispered.
“I’m s-sorry. The stupid zipper. It- It wasn’t working,” Percy sobbed.
Annabeth ran her hands down his back, hoping it would be at least somewhat soothing. “It’s okay. It’s not your fault. It’s alright.”
“Can’t even open a fucking bag right,” Percy said tightly. “God, I’m so fucking useless.”
Annabeth pulled away and held him by the shoulders. “Hey, that’s not true.”
Percy looked away from her, coating her hands in tears. “It is.”
“It isn’t,” Annabeth said firmly. “You’re exhausted and having a really shitty day. It’s okay if you couldn’t open your backpack, alright? It’s not your fault.”
“Of course it’s my fucking fault,” Percy said, voice cracking. “I-I let them all down, Annabeth. They were counting on me, and I fucked it up like I always do.”
It took her a second to realize he wasn’t talking about the backpack anymore.
“You had an off day, Percy. It’s nothing to beat yourself up about. I can guarantee that none of them will blame you for it, I promise,” Annabeth said.
“And how would you know that?”
“Because I’ll kick their fucking asses otherwise, that’s how.”
That tore a watery laugh from him before he slumped back against the wall. Annabeth hovered near him, unsure of what to do. Percy rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand and took a deep breath.
His voice was more steady when he said, “I’m supposed to be the captain. I’m supposed to be reliable. They put their trust in me, and I let them down.”
“They trust you for a reason,” Annabeth said. “They know how hard you work, how much you have given for the team.”
“But I still failed them when it mattered most,” Percy muttered.
Annabeth sighed and brushed her hair out of her face. “Literally none of them think that. They were just worried about you. I could see it in their eyes.”
When he remained silent, she added, “If one of them were in your shoes and had an off day at a meet, would you think they had let you down?”
“They aren’t captain,” Percy argued.
“So just because you’re captain, you have to be absolutely flawless, all the time?”
Percy opened his mouth before closing it again and looked down at his lap. Annabeth ground her teeth together. What could she do to make him understand? Why did he always hold himself to such unreasonable standards? He always shouldered too much responsibility, but didn’t he realize that, at some point, he would have to run out of things to give? Not even Percy could carry the world on his shoulders forever, but he would be damned if he didn’t try.
“Sometimes I wish people would stop putting their faith in me,” he whispered.
“I know but it’s not entirely their fault. There’s just something about you that makes people want to follow you,” Annabeth said.
Percy shook his head and said, “I don’t understand what they see in me. I’m not special. I can’t be who they need me to be. I wish I could. I really, really do. But I can’t. I just can’t. Even today, I lost us the relay because I couldn’t shut my brain off and focus. I just can’t stop thinking about the-”
“Can’t stop thinking about what?” Annabeth asked, frowning.
Percy swallowed and turned away from her. “It’s nothing. Just ignore what I said.”
A spark of anger that rushed through her. “No, that’s bullshit. You don’t get to do that. Tell me what’s wrong.”
“I-It’s not a big deal.”
“Then you should have no trouble telling me,” Annabeth said.
When he remained silent, she crossed her arms over her chest and said, “I’m literally not leaving until you tell me what’s going on. Even if that means staying here all night.”
When Percy looked up at her, the mix of fear and resignation in his eyes reminded her of a lamb being led to slaughter. A lump formed in her throat. Since when had things gotten so difficult between them?
She forced herself to take a breath and said, “I’m your friend, Percy. I’m not going to hurt you. So, please, just talk to me.”
There was a pause before Percy ran his hands through his hair, almost violently, and nodded. “I- I can’t stop thinking about New Year’s Eve.”
Annabeth furrowed her brow. “What about it?”
Percy looked down at his lap and clenched his shirt with one hand, right at the center of his chest.
“I almost kissed you.”
His voice had been so quiet, Annabeth had almost missed it. It took her a few seconds to process what he had said and what it meant.
“And that’s why you’re beating yourself up so much?” Annabeth asked, trying not to gape.
He looked up at her sharply and said, “I almost stole your first kiss, Annabeth. You deserve to have it with someone that you actually like, not wasted on a stand-in like me.”
“Percy, first kisses are not that big a deal,” Annabeth said exasperatedly.
“They are to me,” Percy said quietly.
Annabeth didn’t know how to respond to that. Honestly, the whole conversation made very little sense to her. She couldn’t understand for the life of her why this was causing him so much anguish. Besides, there was that comment he had made, about being a stand-in. It was technically true, but there was just something wrong about it.
“The worst part is that I wanted to,” Percy whispered. “Even though I knew from the start, at that moment, I didn’t care. I almost did something awful to you.”
There was a brief pause before Annabeth exploded.
“Christ, boys are so fucking stupid sometimes.”
Percy looked up with wide red-rimmed eyes, surprised by the hostility in her voice. Annabeth pulled him by the collar of his shirt so that they were face to face, close enough for her to see the dried tracks his tears had left on his face, and dropped her voice to a deadly whisper.
“Listen to me very carefully: you didn’t almost ‘steal’ anything that night. I could have stopped the kiss at literally any point if I hadn’t wanted it to happen. It was just as much my decision as it was yours, okay? I’m a person, not a fucking mannequin. Stop treating me like one.”
Annabeth set her jaw and glared at him, daring him to challenge her, but Percy held his breath and nodded once, slowly. She stared at him for another second before she turned to pick up the towel. Her hands were trembling. Annabeth was surprised at how angry she was. She dropped the towel twice because of it.
She turned back to him and said, “Turn around.”
Percy blinked owlishly before he did as she commanded. Annabeth took a moment to run her fingers through his hair. It had dried some, but it was still wet. Annabeth started to towel dry his hair, and Percy flinched, almost immediately, like she had expected.
He caught her wrist and peered up at her. “You don’t have to do that.”
“God, Percy, just shut up and let me take care of you for once,” Annabeth said, sharper than she would have liked.
A beat passed before Percy nodded reluctantly and turned around. Annabeth took a moment to swallow and returned to her task. She took her time. There was no rush, after all. Nowhere they needed to be. Nothing they needed to do. Nothing to stop them from being who they were. So Annabeth tried her best to do with her hands what her words could not.
She was careful with him. Thorough. Gentle. Tension drained out of him, allowing his shoulders to open up, and he leaned into her touch unconsciously. The repetitive motions lulled her senses and the world felt less sharp. The dim lights in the hallway flickered erratically and hummed like a droning bee. His hair was soft and tickled her fingers. She wondered if any of his former girlfriends had known that. They probably had. They probably knew more than she ever would.
“Annabeth?” Percy whispered.
“Yeah?”
“I’m sorry. And— thank you. For everything.”
Annabeth hummed in acknowledgment. A beat passed and Percy’s lips pulled upwards in a half-smile.
“It’s been a long time since you’ve gotten mad at me.”
“You sound far too pleased about that. Am I going to have to kink shame you or something?”
That tore a tired laugh out of him, and Annabeth smiled. Now, with her work done, she threw the towel back into his swim bag and stretched in place. Percy’s back was still facing her. Annabeth knocked her forehead lightly between his shoulder blades and grinned when it startled him. He turned around and raised an eyebrow.
“How are you feeling?” Annabeth murmured.
“Um, better, I think?” Percy replied. “Definitely more relaxed.”
“I- I didn’t make things worse right?” Annabeth asked tentatively.
“No, you helped,” he said quickly. “More than you probably know.”
Annabeth swallowed and looked down at her lap. “Okay, good. Just making sure.”
There was another pause and then Percy asked, “Should we go home?”
Annabeth met his eyes and nodded. “Yeah, let’s go home.”
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anna-justice · 3 years
Text
Lost or Found - 15
Summary: As Jay, Hailey, Kim, Adam and Kevin start their junior year in the wake of a tragic summer, the past year of their lives comes back to haunt them. If you enjoyed Pretty Little Liars, this is for you! *UPSTEAD/BURZEK High School AU
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15 - Glimmer ...
“Jay, this has to be perfect.”
Jay scoffed at his friend, who was attempting to paint massive letters on a blue sign. “This seems a bit extravagant Adam.” 
Adam rolled his eyes, dropping his paint brush. He had asked Jay to come over a few hours prior to help him. It was Sunday, the day before spirit week and Adam was planning on asking his girlfriend to the homecoming dance the following weekend. The plan was simple: Jay (and Kevin, who ditched because he had an extra practice) were going to help Adam make all the shit he needed while Hailey kept her away from his house. Then after school Monday, Jay and Hailey were in charge of distracting Kim until he was ready. The only problem was, Adam’s ability to paint was about as good as his handwriting and the letters on the sign were equal to chicken scratch. 
“I mean, you are already dating.” Jay continued.
“So,” Adam said, standing. “You are telling me that when you ask Hailey you won’t be holding a corny sign and a bouquet of flowers?” Jay began to speak but Adam kept talking. “Because I guarantee you, you will look like an idiot when every other girl has a cute story to tell.” 
Jay shot his friend a dirty look, “Who said I was going to ask Hailey?”
“I hate you…”Adam muttered, groaning in defeat. He was sick of watching Jay dance around his feelings, especially since he knew Hailey felt the same way. He knew that he was the one that told him it was a bad idea in the first place, but he had retracted the statement a million times since then. 
“Adam stop stressing, you know she will say yes.” Jay said, changing the subject.
Adam shrugged, “I know. That’s not the point. I just want her to feel special.”
Jay grinned, it was fun to watch his usually dickish best friend get all sentimental. “You know, sometimes you have these moments where I forget how much of a sarcastic little smartass you are.”
Adam glared at him. He then put on a fake smile and put his hand over his heart. “Really Jay? That means so much to me.” 
Jay rolled his eyes and laughed as Adam got back to work. And even though Jay had dismissed him just a few moments earlier, he had planned to ask Hailey. He was right, it needed to be special, and Jay had the perfect idea.
Going back to school on Monday was a bit of an adjustment for Hailey. It was exactly the same as before, Jay picked her up (she really needed to start giving him gas money) and they met their friends in the parking lot and she went to her first block as normal. Except she had had heart surgery, and everyone knew that she was the girl that got trapped in a garage with a running car. That alone made people's stares a little more intense, but she also couldn’t seem to forget about the scar running up her chest. 
It was crazy, she was wearing a t-shirt, no one could even see it. But she still felt like she had something she was hiding. It was all too familiar, she flashed back to just a year earlier when she began to hide the bruises caused by her father. There was something scary about her situation (other than the obvious facts), she moved to Chicago to escape the danger she was in, but somehow she had walked into something worse. And now she was a 16 year old with a pacemaker and a stalker, and she wasn’t a fan of either.
Hailey and Jay were walking to first block together, since they both had Criminal Justice. Hailey was still nursing the cup of coffee that Jay had brought her that morning, and she would admit that it made her morning much better. The two ways to her heart were coffee and pizza, and Jay had gotten pretty good at buying her both. 
They settled into their seats (of course right next to each other) and Hailey pulled out her textbook. She noticed the sheepish look on Jay’s face and pushed it between them, it wasn’t the first time that he had forgotten his. 
Jay smirked as he watched Hailey pull out her notebook and pencil pouch, the girl was a bit of a control freak when it came to her notes. Not that he minded, his looked like a five year old did them, so he’d be studying with hers anyway. 
That’s how they spent the whole class: Hailey listening attentively and taking notes and Jay watching her listen and take notes. By the end he couldn’t remember one sentence their teacher said. He looked down at his own blank paper and chuckled, he hadn’t realized how out of touch he had really been. 
“Mr. Halstead, did you find something more important to do than paying attention in my class?” Their teacher, Mr. Chavez asked as he stared him down. 
Jay was about to respond with a “yes” but Hailey beat him to it, “He has a headache sir, I told him he could copy my notes later.” She explained. 
“That’s very kind of you Ms. Upton. Great work as always.” He looked to Jay, his smile faltering. “See to it that you get those notes, don’t throw away Ms. Upton’s kindness.” 
Jay nodded his head, stifling a laugh as he walked away. He gathered his things, preparing for the bell to ring and Hailey smirked beside him. “The next time you want to stare at me for an hour and a half, pick a class you aren’t close to failing.” 
As soon as she finished her sentence, the bell rang and Hailey jumped up. “Hey! I’m not failing.” He called after her, but she just threw a grin over her shoulder at him and exited the room. Jay shook his head and grabbed his backpack, pulling the strap over his shoulder. That girl was going to be the death of him. 
He made his way to his next class, Advanced Physics, which he unfortunately didn’t have with Hailey. He felt a little pathetic if he was being honest, but his happiness at the moment completely revolved around her. When she was around, the air felt a little lighter and he could breathe easier. 
It was crazy to think that something so good came out of all of the shit they were dealing with, but it did. Hailey Anne Upton was his best friend, what more could he ask for?
Hailey sat in Psychology next to Severide, keeping her eyes locked on Kevin who turned around every five seconds to check on her. It was hard and she spent the whole class a little on edge, but they couldn’t risk Severide knowing that they were onto him in any way. Which meant Hailey had to spend 90 minutes every other day pretending to be his friend. 
“How are you doing?” He asked, grabbing her attention. 
Hailey looked back at him, startled. “I’m good, thanks.”
Severide nodded, glancing back down at her paper. “Uh, do you have number seven?” 
“Yeah, it’s cognitive.” She said, looking at her own.
“Thanks.”
Hailey grimaced at the awkwardness of their conversation. “No problem.”  She needed to get out of there. She raised her hand, “Can I use the restroom?” Her teacher nodded and she jumped up and grabbed the hall pass before high tailing it out of the room. 
She let out a breath as she entered the bathroom, taking in her disheveled appearance. She hated how riled up Severide made her, but everytime she looked in the mirror she pictured the bruises that once covered her neck. 
A toilet flushed behind her and she quickly got herself together. She gleaned in the mirror to see Nadia exit the stall, they made eye contact and quickly looked away. Hailey’s second uncomfortable interaction of the day. “Hailey right?” Nadia asked. 
“Yeah.” Hailey said, she patted her legs nervously and gave her a small smile. “We haven’t officially met.”
Nadia gave her a cautious smile, “No we haven’t, but I don’t doubt you know everything there is to know about me.” Her tone turned darker at the end, her facade giving out. 
“I’m not one to judge.” Hailey said, hoping to give her some solace.
“I’m not either.” Nadia turned towards the door, “Be careful with Jay, he’s not all he’s cracked up to be.” 
“We’re just-” The door slammed shut, leaving Hailey alone to her thoughts, “Friends…” Not that she would be opposed to something more, but she wasn’t sure that was a secret. She ignored Nadia’s jab at Jay, if Hailey was her she would have said the exact same thing. Nadia didn’t know that Jay only ruined her because his mom’s life was at risk.
She grabbed the hall pass off the sink and made her way back to class, against her will. She was ready for the day to be over and she was barely halfway through. 
After school, Hailey stood at her locker waiting for Jay, something else that had become normal. She was scrolling through instagram, not paying attention to anything going on around her. She was trying to keep her mind off the amount of AP Chem homework she had,but the tactic was proving to be unsuccessful.
“Hey,” a voice said, pulling her out of her trance. She looked up to find Kelly Severide standing over her, and she practically jumped out of her skin. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” 
Hailey laughed nervously, removing herself from between him and the locker. “You’re good, what’s up?”
“Uh, nothing really I was just wondering if maybe you would want to go to homecoming with me?” He asked and Hailey stared at him blankly.
She figured she was going to be asked, but not like that and certainly not by him. She stood there in silence, trying to figure out what to say. She was 100% sure that she had watched this movie and the probability of her ending up dead at the end of it was high. Who else could say that the guy who choked them in the middle of their living room at one in the morning was also their homecoming date? Not many, probably because everyone who could check yes for that box was either murdered or missing. 
She was about to respond when she felt a presence behind her. “Sorry man, she can’t go with you.”
Hailey sighed, Jay.
Severide gave Jay a bored look, sighing. “Why’s that?” Hailey looked up at him as if to ask: Yeah Jay, why not?
Jay smirked, glancing down at Hailey and the to Severide, “Because she’s going with me.”
...
@lissethsrojas @fuckyeahkillianemma @puckluck28 @chilly7188 @thebigapocalypsewolf @karihighman @upsteadheart @ruzek-halstead
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allsortsofgeekery · 5 years
Text
One of Us is Lying: Chapter 4
Chapter 1     Chapter 2     Chapter 3
Synopsis: Five students walk into detention, but only four walk out. These four are all main suspects in Remy Kallagher’s murder, but who really killed him—Logan, the valedictorian and student council president, Roman, the all-star athlete, Patton, the adorable homecoming prince, or Virgil, the infamous school drug dealer?
Word Count: 1,707
Trigger Warnings: death mentions, murder mentions, ransom note (kinda?), anonymous confession to murder, police mention, cursing, let me know if I’ve missed anything!
Pairings: eventual Analogical, toxic Moceit
Author’s note: Hi, all! I’m back! I’m going to try my best to make updates more frequent, now, since it’s summer vacation! I hope you all enjoy this chapter!
Logan
7:30 PM
Tuesday, September 25
Logan sat at his desk, tapping a pen against a blank physics handout and trying to find the motivation in himself to write anything at all. Usually, he had no trouble focusing on homework; in fact, he actually enjoyed it sometimes, a welcome stimulant to distract his brain from the extraneous stress of high school.
Evidently, witnessing a death and then being accused of murder all within twenty four hours proved to be too large of a distraction for even homework to take care of.
Grunting in frustration, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his phone, deciding instead to check his email for the umpteenth time that day.
He clears out his inbox fairly regularly, so there was only one email in there, one from last night that was sent at 6:15 from Principal Lynch. Logan scrolled through it, even though he had already read it at least fifty times by now.
Dear students and families...a junior, Remy Kallagher...more updates to come soon...talk to your student and see if they are okay...we are truly saddened by this terrible news.
He huffed and put his phone down, trying once again to concentrate on his homework.
He liked physics. He liked physics better than biology, and he certainly liked it better than chemistry.
Ugh. Chemistry. Even thinking of that class made Logan’s stomach twist in both hatred and guilt. He was in AP Chem last year, and it was the most difficult class he had ever been in. Usually, Logan enjoyed a good challenge, relished it, even, but Chemistry was more than a mere challenge--it was nearly impossible.
For the first time, Logan’s usual meticulous studying habits had failed him; no matter how hard he worked, and no matter how much extra credit he did, he couldn’t seem to break out of a C-average. The 73% was an ugly mark on his perfect student record; he watched the low C on every report card drag down his GPA. He could practically feel Harvard slipping out of his grasp--Harvard, the college that Logan had been working restlessly since he was little to get into. Harvard, the school that Logan’s family had been going to for generations.
Harvard, the school that simply does not accept students with C’s in Chemistry.
However, Logan was never one to give up, so he studied even harder and stayed up even later doing his homework. As a result, to Logan’s dismay, his other grades began to slip, too.
Utterly defeated, Logan was just about to ask his guidance counselor to switch him into the non-AP course, when an opportunity presented itself, and Logan took it. He ended up finishing the year in Chemistry with a 96% average.
He still isn’t proud of what it took to get his grade up, but he doesn’t regret it. As long as nobody ever finds out, his dream of attending Harvard is still very much in his reach.
Shaking his head, as if he could clear away the unpleasant memories like an Etch-a-Sketch, Logan picked up his phone yet again. He debated texting Virgil; sure, they weren’t exactly friends, but he was closer with him than he was with either Roman or Patton, and they were the only three people who could understand his situation.
Suddenly, his phone buzzed in his hand, his Sherlock theme song ringtone blaring. It was Virgil--apparently, he had beaten Logan to the punch.
“Logan Sanders,” Logan answered.
“Hey,” Virgil said. Logan could hear the panic in his voice even from the single syllable. His stomach turned. “Have you checked Tumblr?”
“Er--no,” Logan began, brow furrowing in confusion. “I do not have a Tumblr account. Why?”
“Oh, shit...uh, okay, I don’t--I don’t really want to be the one to tell you, but...somebody made an anonymous post confessing to murdering Remy.”
Logan was stunned into silence for a moment, before the implications of this new development sank in. “Can you read it to me?”
“Yeah, lemme just--pull it up...okay,” Virgil said on the other end. He began to read out loud:
“‘Killing Remy was my little favor to the rest of the school.
You’re welcome.
I mean, everybody hated him. Nobody wanted to have their lives ruined by being on “Spill the Tea”, right?
Now, nobody has to worry about any of that anymore.
I’ve been planning this for a while.
And after weeks of watching Remy’s every move, I could finally see my efforts pay off.’”
After Virgil had finished reading, they both stood in a weighted silence. Hundreds of thoughts fired at Logan all at once, but one stood out above all of them: “I could finally see my efforts pay off.” This implies that the killer, whoever they may be, watched Remy die. That, he realized with a sense of growing anxiety, further implicates himself, Patton, Roman, and Virgil. His stomach churned at the realization.
“I know,” Virgil said, breaking the silence in an unsteady voice. “Pretty fucked, right?”
Logan nodded before remembering that Virgil couldn’t see him. “Yes…” he began. There was another moment-long pause. Then Virgil spoke again.
“So,” he said, clearly struggling to make his voice sound casual, “which one of them do you think did it?” It took Logan a moment to process the question, but then it hit him with a pang.
“So—so you believe it, then?” He managed to sputter out. “You think that somebody in our—our detention—“ he spat the word out as if it were poison— “killed Remy?”
“Well...yeah,” Virgil said. “I mean, either that, or we’re being framed, and I don’t know what any of us could have done to piss anybody off that badly.”
“So you are more inclined to believe that one of us is more likely to have committed cold-blooded murder than to believe that we are simply being framed?”
“Well, when you put it like that…”
“Wait, Virgil,” Logan started, gears in his head turning. “You—you do not believe that—that I killed Remy...do you?”
There was a long, tense silence that seemed to stretch out for hours.
“Nah,” Virgil decided at last. “I mean, sure, you’re probably smart enough to pull it off, but I mean, I’ve known you since we were kids, and, I dunno, I just can’t imagine you doing anything like that. I mean, I don’t know if you had some kind of beef with Remy or whatever, but—“
“I assure you, there was no...beef...between Remy and I,” Logan cut in. “Of course, I did not...care for him, much, but I would never do something to that extent. Obviously.”
“Yeah, I figured.” Another pause. Then: “You don’t think I did it, right?”
“No,” Logan answered immediately. “To reiterate what you have already stated, I have known you since childhood, and nothing that I know about you leads me to believe that you would do anything of the sort.”
He could practically hear Virgil relax on the other end of the line. “Okay...cool,” he said, and Logan could sense the difference in his tone. “So then...who do you think did it? Roman or...or...the other kid?”
“Patton,” Logan corrected, exasperated. “You really should know his name. And I do not know very much about either of them, and nothing that I do know about them entices me to suspect either above the other. If you ask me, this whole...Tumblr post is an elaborate prank. A terrible one, but a prank nonetheless. As you have previously stated, none of us, to our knowledge, have done anything to upset anybody enough to frame us, correct?”
“Well...yeah, I guess. But the police are still gonna have to look into it, yeah?”
“Certainly. But, with no further evidence other than that Tumblr post, none of us can be implicated, correct?” Logan was reassuring himself just as much as Virgil at this point; perhaps if he said it enough, it would become true.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right. Still, there’s no way Remy’s death was an accident, right?”
“That is true. Again, I do not know enough about Patton or Roman to suspect either of them more than the other, but they do not seem like the murdering type. But I also do not know if either of them may or may not have had a motive. Or,” he continued, “maybe one of them had gotten somebody angry enough to frame them, and inadvertently dragged us down with them.”
“Yeah,” Virgil said, still sounding generally unconvinced. “Okay. You’re probably right. I mean, maybe one of them got worried enough about winding up on “Spill the Tea” or something? They looked pretty weird when the police officer asked us that this morning...but, I mean, you did, too, and I dunno if you’re hiding anything, but…” he grunted in frustration. Logan could feel his face growing hot again. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it like...you know what I’m trying to say. Everybody in school’s been worried about ending up on it at some point, right? I wonder if either of them did anything bad enough that they really didn’t want people to know...but that still doesn’t explain the Tumblr post—“
“Indeed,” Logan said quickly, face burning and suddenly eager to end the conversation. “My apologies, Virgil, but I need to go—I have to...er...finish my homework.”
“Oh, yeah, sure,” Virgil said. “See you tomorrow, I guess?”
“Indeed. Goodnight, Virgil.”
“‘Night, Logan.” He hung up.
Logan tossed his phone onto his bed, and noticed that his right hand was clenched in a fist, nails biting into tender skin. He released the fist and flexed his fingers a few times, trying to will his heart rate to go back to normal. Virgil’s words from earlier that day came to him.
“Everybody has secrets.”
Virgil had been right. But, Logan assured himself, there was absolutely no way that anybody could have found him out, right? Yes, the more he thought about it, the more outlandish it seemed—there’s no possible way that Remy could have known.
Feeling significantly calmer, Logan turned and stared down at his still-blank physics worksheet, convincing himself that there was no need to panic.
Taglist: @fandersunite @unring-this-bell @sparkletastic-cookiedough @mijako98 @coconut-cluster @cinnamonlilac @i-like-cookiesz @noremacdranoel-blog @theresneverenoughfandoms @jughead-is-canonically-aroace @lovelylogans @unipugsat221b @tinysidestrashcaptain @awkwardturtlez @i-have-n0-idea-what-im-d0ing @band-be-boss-blog @theunoriginaldaisy @doodlerodoodlez @nextheirofslytherin @redhoneysugarorange @unnipanda623 @under-the-blue-moonlight @himrachel @hufflepuffgirl01 @casisnotalass @probablysomeproblems @kameraishere @ijustrealizedhowdumbmynamewas @a-valorous-choice @the-parentheticals @punsterterry @levy-the-b00kw0rm @kingwillow @depressed--and--underdressed @wigsnatchedhoteltrivago
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ironspiidey · 4 years
Text
Superheros get Bullied too
Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11
Chapter 1: Peter Parker & the Bully
Read on A03
“Hey Penis!!!”
Peter rolls his eyes and sighs heavily, hearing Flash holler for him from down the hallway. ‘Nope not today Satan’ Peter says to himself as he darts down a side hallway completely not in the direction he needs to go but hoping to escape the other teens taunting for once.
“Penis!!! I’m talking to you! Can’t you hear?”
Peter hears him jogging up to catch up and seeing other students stopping and starring, Peter sighs and turns around thinking its best to just get it over with right?
“What’s up Flash?” Peter stuffs his hands in his pants pockets and looks at Flash cautiously.
The other teen swings his arm around the redhead’s shoulders and turns him around “Oh Penis. Didn’t that aunt of yours teach you any manners …” Flash looks at the direction Peter was originally headed and raises an eyebrow “Or sense of direction? Since I know we both have Chem next and that is not the way to Chem”
Peter stiffens as Flash’s arm goes around him “Maybe I just wanted to go the long way around and avoid the crowd.”
Flash rolls his eyes and pulls Peter with him, walking back in the direction they need to go to their next class “Whatever if you say so Penis. “
“I wish you wouldn’t call me that” Peter mumbles under his breath.
The other teen chuckles “Yea and I bet you wish you actually worked for Stark Industries”
Peter rolled his eyes and shrugs Flash’s arm off him. “Oh not this again. How many times do I have to tell you I’m an intern at SI so I don’t actually get paid?”
“Whatever, intern. Actually employed. It doesn’t matter, because it’s all bullshit. Out of all the kids in NY that apply for that position, there is no way in hell that the tony stark is going to choose you as an intern. “
“ Technically Peppe- I mean Ms. Potts is the one who goes through the list of applications and puts it down to a few entries and then To—Mr. Stark chooses between those. “
Flash stops in his tracks and eyes Peter suspiciously “Ms. Potts? You mean MRS Stark. Are you obsessed with him like a 14 year old girl Penis is that where this comes from?” Flash pokes Peter in the shoulder to which Peter just looks away
“Flash Stop!”
He started laughing as he stops walking “Oh my god!!! You have a crush on Tony Stark. He’s old enough to be your father Penis!”
Peter scoffs “I don’t have a crush on Stark. You’re being ridiculous and stop calling me Penis. Peter! Peter is my name okay. You’ve known me since the beginning of grade school. You’d think with that big head of yours, you would be able to remember my name!” Peter practically yells and notices more people watching them.
Flash grabs his arm “Hey! Penis that’s not okay, “
“Flash let go!!!”
Students around them stop walking and just stare as Peter tries to get his arm out of the bully’s grip.
“Your causing a scene there Parker, you should calm down.” Flash looks at him and Peter can tell he is pissed but he doesn’t even care anymore
And this is where Peter Benjamin Parker finally lost it. “CALM DOWN? YOU’RE TELLING ME TO CALM DOWN. ALL I AM IS CALM FLASH. Unlike you who feel some weird urge to pick and prod at me, call me a liar, fag and god knows what else when I’m not listening until I snap well congratulations Flash I have officially snapped. “ Peter then uses his extra Spidey strength that he usually hides to prevent suspicion and pushes Flash off him and back against the wall of lockers. “ you best leave me the fuck alone Thompson because I am done!” and without another word he stomped through the crowd of shocked onlookers and made his way to Chem.
  After Peter finished Chem, There was thankfully only lunch and then AP physics today. During class Flash hadn’t said a word. Peter was fuming and wondering whether or not to call off his lab date with Mr. Stark when his phone started to buzz. Peter pulled it out and seen that it was Ned
“Hey “
“Peter omg did you really yell at flash in the hallway? Are you okay?”
Peter rolled his eyes, walking down the hall and keeping an eye out for the bully in question. Making sure he didn’t sneak up on him. “News travels fast it’s only been an hour.”
“Dude people are saying you lost your mind and was screaming at him and stuff are you okay?”
Ned always the concerned mom friend, Peter couldn’t help but smile a bit. “Ned I’m fine really. I mean I’m probably going to skip out on lab night but I’m fine I swear”
Ned gasps. “Peter you never ever skip out on Lab date night! You sure you’re okay?”
“Yes dude I’m fine!!!” Peter’s voice started to get high pitched.” I’m sorry Ned I’m just tired of the crap from Flash and I lost my cool. Meet you in the lunch quad?”
“It’s okay dude, uh about that. I’m actually going to skip lunch today and try and figure out this dumb English essay in the library”
“Oh well I’ll see you around then?” Peter tried not to sound too disappointed because he knew the reason Ned wanted to work on that essay was to be with his girlfriend Annie
“I’m sorry Peter I know you’ve been having a bad day but...”
“Ned its fine! If I get that lonely I can call Tony or something.”
“I’m sure you’d rather be talking to him anyways “
“Don’t be like that Ned, I’ll talk to you later now goo”
“Alright alright, ill text you later “
“Alright bye!” Peter smiled as he hung up the phone and stuffed his phone in his hoodie pocket. He walked down the stairs and almost made it to his locker without anyone bothering him but not quite. “Hey Parker wait up!”
Peter sighed and turned around, realizing it was just Harley he gave him a small smile “Oh hey Harley.”
“Soo not to be the reason that smile is gone off your beautiful little face…”
Peter blushes lightly, Harley is not unlike his uncle, always flirting and feeding Peter compliments “you’re ridiculous.”
“Seriously, you’re not going to like this.”
Peter looked up from opening his locker to see Harley’s guilty face and the redhead’s eyes narrowed suspiciously “You didn’t beat up flash over earlier did you?”
Harley scoffs “Oh no, the beating that little bitch deserves is not going to be delivered during school hours or on school grounds. Stark said if I got another suspension no more bike for me.”
“Ahh and we can’t mess with your precious bike project right?” Peter laughs as he takes off his big hoodie and stuffs it in his locker, grabbing his lunch.
“And that isn’t going to make it any easier.”
“What isnt?”
Harley pokes Peter’s arm where a big yellow bruise was starting, in the shape of a hand.
“Oh fuck, what am I going to tell Tony…?”
“Oh fuck is right, because the reason I’m here is because I was talking to Stark and he knows.”
Peter slammed his locker open “You fucking told him?”
Harley raises his hands palms up “Whoa there Parker, I’m not an idiot I didn’t tell him about Thompson.”
Peter sighed “Oh thank god.”
“But he does know. You see I heard about the fight and that you lost your cool so I texted him seeing if he heard from you because if Flash did beat you I know you would have called me or Stark.”
Peter nods in understanding
“Well when I texted him that, he called me. Asking why I was asking him because last he heard from you, you were saying how you were looking forward to lab time tonight and you sounded fine. And of course I turn my ass down a hallway and everybody is gossiping about it.” Harley rolls his eyes and stuffs his hands in his jeans pockets.
“And he heard it all didn’t he?” Peter says in a small voice
“Well to be specific, He heard Tommy running up to me yelling hey when we going to beat Thompson for laying a hand on parker? I’ve been waiting to beat his stupid jock ass for days.” The blonde imitates Tommy’s brutish voice.
“Oh no.” Peter sighed knowing Harley’s best friend Tommy was not one to be quiet when talking especially when it came to assholes like Flash.
“Oh yes. So now he wants to see both of us out front for our lunch break. And to bring any books will need in case we don’t come back.” Harley runs a hand through his hair slicking in back over his head. “And by we, I mean you” He adds.
“Shit, we’re so fucked.” Peter bangs his head against his locker.
“I’m real sorry Pete. “
Peter stops banging his head and turns towards Harley and sees he’s truly upset over it. “ Hey its fine, I mean as long as you can convince Tony that you’re not going to get in trouble I’m sure you’ll be fine!”
Harley smirks and grabs Peter’s sweater out of his locker “you’re probably right. Here put this back on. I don’t wanna be there when Tony goes ape over that particular bruise.”
Peter nods “I’m more concerned about what he’s going to do to Flash.”
“Oh don’t worry Mr. Thompson is never going to make that mistake ever again once we’re through with him.”
Peter and Harley whip their head around to see Tony Stark walking towards them. “Sweater. Now” Harley mumbled under his breath and stepped in front of Peter meeting the older man
Peter nodded and slipped the hoodie over his head
“Hey Mr. Stark” both boys said nervously, looking at each other and then at the man in question.
“Hello boys.”
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athenasquared · 6 years
Text
Shiro was a mess.
He knew it, Keith knew it, Kaltenecker probably knew it. Hell, everyone in the universe probably knew it, and if they didn’t, it was only because they hadn’t seen Shiro around the boy.
And now that boy was in a healing pod.
Coran had said it wasn’t anything major, that, yeah, Lance had been knocked out, but nothing was permanent as far as he could tell. Which was great! Really, it was, but Lance still had to stay in the tube for two days so that the no-permanence thing actually happened. But it was still scary seeing the boy, thin as he is, turn pale in the light, bruises showing on his already dark skin. A gash that was already halfway healed above his eyebrow looked like it wouldn’t scar, which was good, because that would have crushed Lance. And Shiro couldn’t stand to see him sad.
Because a sad Lance was a sad Shiro, because Lance was emotionally manipulative.
Okay, he’s not, but Shiro has to put the blame somewhere, and it is most definitely not going on his huge, ridiculous crush on the other paladin.
Was there a stronger word for crush? Because that’s what Shiro had. He chose to believe it wasn’t creepy or anything, honest, because it’s not! He just really, really, really liked the paladin and…
Okay, maybe it was a little creepy, but his actual actions weren’t creepy, he knew. Lance had no idea, and that’s all that mattered. Besides, weren’t all crushes just a little bit creepy? I mean, think about it, you like this other person and they don’t even know and you always kind of hope they never do know and how is that not creepy?
But that’s not the point. The point is that Shiro is absolutely head-over-heels for Lance, who is currently healing in an alien tube because Shiro couldn’t keep him safe. Shiro was the one who couldn’t get to Lance’s lion in time to protect him, something even the Black Lion mourned, and now here he was, thin and pale and bruised in a cryopod.
Hunk had tried to say the same thing, though. That he, Hunk, hadn’t been able to reach Lance in time to block the blow. And Pidge had come to him, nearly in tears, exclaiming that she was the one at fault, that if only she had been able to shoot just a little bit faster and with a lot more accuracy Lance wouldn’t have been hurt.
Because they can’t all be Lance, right? Guns were his thing, knowing how to aim was his thing, and aim like a pro he did.
The only one who had yet to try to blame themselves was Keith, and Shiro had a feeling that it was happening, just all on a mental level. Shiro supposes he should find Keith and remind him that, no, it wasn’t his fault at all. But he also knew he wouldn’t be able to bring himself from sitting next to the cryopod in question, because right now, that’s where he belonged and Keith knew that, so if he really wanted to, he could come find him.
And so he sat.
He really did have a crush, didn’t he? It was all Lance’s fault, too, because if he wasn’t so adorable and happy and loud and hot-headed and flexible…
Okay, Shiro, now is not the time to think about that. He almost died because of you, you idiot.
Wait. Would Lance want him thinking like that? Probably not. He’s always so good at fixing things like this, though, that when he’s not there to do it, no one really knows what to do. Hunk would probably not be in the kitchen, baking something similar to pecan filled cinnamon rolls, but still very alien and different. Hunk had insisted they were Lance’s favorited American food, and since he couldn’t make anything remotely Hispanic, it was what he was going to do. Shiro had stored that information away so he could hopefully use it at a later date (literal date, too, hopefully) and had continued on fretting about Lance. Pidge probably wouldn’t be working on the stupid video game she and Lance had gotten, trying to figure something out to get it up and working so they could play when he got out and they had time to do so. Keith wouldn’t -- okay, yeah, no, he’d probably be training either way.
Shiro most definitely would not be sulking next to an unconscious Lance, that’s for sure. He likes to think he would have worked up the courage to say something to the boy, but he knows, in his heart, that that wouldn’t have happened no matter what end had been chosen for this day. Unless, of course, that Shiro was a little more like Lance.
Maybe that was what scared Shiro away? Lance had no trouble flirting with every creature that came their way (occasionally even Hunk, though Hunk had explained it was all platonic), yet Shiro had never been one of them. The fact they were all girls barely crossed Shiro’s mind and if anything the only thing that mattered was that they were all -- they were all pretty. Attractive.
Was Shiro not attractive?
He knows he was before Kerberos, but things have changed in the year and a half since then. His hair has gone partially white, he has scars galore, PTSD was probably not listed in Vogue as what was hot. Things had changed, and yeah, it stung. He wanted to be flirted with, if only so he could have the little boost of confidence he needed to get the job done.
The job: asking Lance out, succeeding, and taking him on the best date ever.
Shiro didn’t know how he would really get the job done without actually being able to take Lance out on a date, but it was a start. Maybe he could find a semi-decent movie somewhere in the castle or something? Ask Hunk to make something similar to popcorn, if he could.
Did Lance even like popcorn? Hunk would know, right? They were best friends, after all, and roommates for years.
So Shiro calls Hunk in. He comes down within five minutes, a plate of cinnamon roll-like things on top, and looks disappointed when he sees Lance isn’t out yet. He must know, logically, that Lance still has a good amount of time left in there, but Shiro understood where Hunk was coming from.
“Sorry for getting you excited.”
Hunk sighs, overly dejected, but places the plate between him and Shiro when he sits down. “It’s fine. You might as well eat some, because Lance still has,” he glances up to check, “27 earth hours and 23 earth minutes remaining. 17, 16, 15 earth seconds left.” He looks back at Shiro, as if realizing he was actually speaking to someone else and not himself. “Is there a reason you wanted me?”
Shiro looks down at the plate, disregarding Hunk for a second. “I was wondering if… could you tell me a little more about Lance? I just realized I don’t actually, uh, know all that much.”
“Sure, what do you wanna know?” Hunk asks, easily plucking one of the rolls off the plate and stuffing half of it in his mouth.
“Just, I don’t know, anything? Anything right now would help.” He’s desperate, he knows, but sometimes it’s good to be desperate. After all, he was getting much-needed information out of this.
Hunk starts right in. “Lance got so tired once he felt sick. Like, nauseous, but because he felt nauseous, he couldn’t fall asleep. It was horrible on both of us, because if Lance is awake, so is everyone else in the room, except it was only me, so I was stuck with him until 3:30 a.m. before he finally fell asleep from me putting my hand on his tummy.
But, honestly? I’d do that a million times over if it means he’ll end up safe after all this. His tummy is really flat, you know? It’s the weirdest thing, it’s like no matter how much food I would put into him, he’d never actually gain any weight. I thought he was unhealthily skinny at first, if you know what I mean, but it turns out that’s just how he is? He can’t help it.
His favorite color isn’t actually blue, technically, but actually the green shade his jacket is. It’s ugly, but I guess it was his brother’s favorite color, since, you know, it was his brother’s jacket and all. But I think blue is his favorite color and green is just what he’s used to saying after all this time, you know?
He’s actually a lot smarter than we give him credit for. Chemistry was his best subject before he was booted out of that program and stuffed into the cargos. Now he says it was always his goal to be a pilot, because that’s just how he is, you know? But I think he wanted to be a chemist. He just has a habit of trying to make the best of every situation, and I can respect that, but sometimes he needs to stand up for himself, yeah? He was doing AP chem as a sophomore and they kicked him out! Because he was technically too young for the class and they needed another cargo pilot anyway.
When I think about it, I realize that if that hadn’t have happened, he probably wouldn’t be here. Or me. Maybe Pidge, but still. Me and Lance? No way. He’d be on his way to working for the Garrison or NASA or some renowned lab somewhere, not here, almost dying every other day and I-”
Hunk stops there, a half cry coming out of his throat as he pushes his face into his hands. “He wouldn’t be in a cryopod, way too close to dead for my liking right now if maybe the Garrison listened to their students.”
Shiro’s hand freezes on the second roll he’s about to pick up. His mind is trying to process so many things at once that it almost hurts. Would Blue be upset to find out that Lance’s favorite color was green? Was he shocked to find that Lance would get himself so tired that he would feel physically sick? He doesn’t have an answer for the first one, but the second one is a most definite no.
But is Shiro surprised to learn Lance is actually pretty smart? Again, not really. It took a lot to get into the Garrison, after all, and the most important part tends to be your academics. And if what Shiro had learned earlier on in all of this was true, Lance had been on academic scholarship as well, which for the Garrison? Was hard to come by and very difficult to get. But Lance having had somewhat of a plan and knowing at least what he wanted out of life?
That was surprisingly difficult for Shiro to believe. He wasn’t sure why, but Lance just didn’t seem the type. And maybe that was on Shiro for not paying as much attention as he wishes he could to the person he claims to have a very avid crush on.
“Claims.” It’s more than a claim. It’s been full on proven with too much evidence to say it doesn’t exist. Lance is what keeps Shiro sane anymore, with an odd mix of Keith.
Hunk continues to sit next to him for maybe another half hour before he walks away, mumbling about how he needs to continue on with his pecan rolls. He quickly turns around right before leaving the room, saying that he’s going to take some around to the others when he gets their plates ready. Shiro hadn’t even thought about it. In fact, Shiro is almost sure that if Hunk thought Lance wouldn’t want him to, he wouldn’t.
But Lance is a good person. He shares his fortune with others, and right now, about his only fortune is the fortune of having Hunk as his best friend. Good, talented, smart Hunk who probably helped Lance study even when he had no idea what was going on in Lance’s class. Hunk who had probably been there to comfort him when he’d been removed from the strictly academic program. Hunk who knew what Lance would want when he wanted it, down to simply touching his shoulder in pure knowing.
Shiro knows, after five minutes of Hunk being gone and five minutes of pondering, that he has nothing to offer Lance. Shiro doesn’t know Lance’s cues, not like Hunk does. Nothing like Hunk does, and Shiro isn’t sure he could learn. Lance was a complicated guy, he knows that much, and he can usually tell when he’s faking it, but that’s about it.
And not only this, but Shiro has thought about the potential fact that it isn’t a real crush he has on Lance -- it’s only his fractured mind clinging to something happy and uplifting and nice so that not everything up there completely sucks. Shiro has also thought, very deeply, about their eight year age gap. Because that’s not healthy, is it? Obsessing over an 18 year old boy, while he’s on the verge of turning 26. He’s positive that no one in their right mind would think that was okay, and from the little Shiro has heard of Lance’s mother, she wouldn’t be too happy about it.
So with all of this in mind, how can he not stop himself from feeling like he’s going to explode every time Lance walks into the room? How come every time Lance comes to him with any insecurity or doubt he might have, he feels overwhelmed with joy that Lance trusts him enough to tell him, but also determined to make sure he never thinks about anything self-deprecating again? It’s infuriating on his own part, but he knows he couldn’t really stop it if he tried. Because dark blue eyes and tan skin call to him, pick up lines and Lance running off with girls angers him, Keith elbowing him when Lance is looking at him, but Shiro hadn’t been paying attention, makes him love him even more. Every single time Lance starts on Allura, he can’t help the correction of behavior, only because he doesn’t want it aimed at Allura but him instead. Because how cute would it be to have Lance flirting with him and not her, cheeks red and--
It won’t happen, Shiro has to remind himself. Lance won’t feel that way about him, if only because his mother has probably drilled into his head that older men are predators (even if that’s not how Shiro would describe himself).
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link-the-feral-anon · 7 years
Text
How Many Rings Does It Take? Four, apparently.
Warnings: Little Kids Who Like To Collect Blackmail for Uncle Pat. Also, AP classes ment. Toothrotting fluff amd zombies as well.
Roman was the star everything. Quarterback, pitcher, point guard, hell, he was even the lead in the school play. …s. So, it was kind of hard for Virgil to believe they were still friends. He blamed it on the fact that he played goalie. Him and Patton? That made sense. He and Pat had gymnastics together. (He also stayed after for Pat’s cheer practice with his twin). They had four classes together. AP Chem, AP Physics, AP Math and Art. He and Logan? Again, this made sense. For one, they lived together and were brothers, twin brothers. For two, they were both on the Academic Decathlon as well as chess club. And they had two classes together and lunch. AP Bio and Creative Writing. But he and Roman? They had One (1) class together. That’s it. Just gym. … and hockey practice. And yet? That wonderful, beautiful man still hung out with him. Sometimes he wondered if it was just for the homework help, but then they’d all go out for pizza and arcade games, Princey’s arm around him, placing kisses to his temple whenever either of them won a game. It was one of these special nights when he first asked him. Granted Lo and Pat weren’t there because this was a team celebration. They had just won the state championship. It was a really close game. If he, Virgil, Anxiety as the team and his friends lovingly called him, hadn’t blocked that last shot, then it wouldn’t have gone into sudden death and Roman wouldn’t have been able to set up that winning shot. He was the MVP of the night and Roman /would not/ let him forget it.
“Verge. Verge, baby.” He said, tugging on the other’s sleeve like a child.
“Hold on.” He chuckled as he shot another zombie. “Gimme a sec or I’ll get my brains eaten.”
“We can’t have that! Not our master strategist!” One of their teammates, Mark he thought, shouted as he was dragged away by his art student boyfriend. “Jacob, slow down!” He laughed.
He finally finished the game and ended up on the leaderboard. “What should I put for a three letter name? My initials? Anx?” He asked, not completely turning to his own boyfriend just yet.
“You should put ‘Yes’.”
“Wha- yes? Why would I-” His eyes widened when he looked over, and then down, at him. “Ro..”
“Anxi. Will you marry me?” He asked, pulling his most Charming Grin. Virgil lips quirked up as he typed in three letters. He doubted anyone would ever top his score, honestly.  
“Ask me again when have a real ring, instead of one you got for 10 tickets at Chuck E Cheese.” He grinned. Roman pulled his famous faux offended gasp.
“Okay. One, it was 25 tickets, thank you very much. Two, this is not some garden variety Chuck E. Cheese. This is a homegrown gem! One of a kind place locally owned! And, three, alright.” The Charming Grin was back, “I will.”
“Good.”
“Great.”
It was a couple years later and Virgil still couldn’t believe Roman still.. Loved him. Yeah. Yeah, they loved each other. He was at home, er, in his dorm room, drawing, when his phone buzzed. He glanced at it, brow furrowed.
Princey<3 <3: 11:23 >Anxiiiiiii< 11:23 >I looooofe youuuiiuuu<
… what the hell? Was- Was he drunk?
Me: 11: 24 >Babe.. Are you drunk?<
Princey <3 <3:
11:26 >nooooo< 11:26 >okau< 11:27 >mabye a littlr< 11:28 >hsy< 11:28 >hey*< 11:28 >marry me.<
He couldn’t help but laugh at the picture Roman attached to the demand. It was a picture of Mrs. Little’s wedding ring. Still on her hand, too.
Me: 11:28 >Okay. But you have to get me a real ring first.< 11:28 >And come on, Princey, make it romantic.< 11:29 >Oh, and two more things.< 11:29 >Make sure you aren’t drunk,< 11:29 >And make sure we’re in the same country, okay?<
There were a lot of things Virgil couldn’t believe in his life.
Logan and Pat’s wedding was not one of them. Roman catching the bouquet was not one of them. The ring with the moonstone in the middle, surrounded by jet and spinel and hematite that formed mini, glittering night sky with a full moon on his finger was not (well, the ring itself was not) one of them. Though, the little diamonds thay dotted the sea of black and dark blue were a nice reminder of one of the many things he couldn’t believe. Like…  Roman asking him, once again, to marry him, the day before Virgil himself was going to ask, and having to repeat himself about five times before shouting
“VIRGIL CAN YOU HEAR ME?! I’M ASKING YOU TO MARRY ME BECAUSE I CAN’T WAIT UNTIL OUR ANNIVERSARY DINNER!” Poor guy damn near jumped out of his skin. The song had just ended, so he heard his lover /loud/ and /clear/.
He pulled an earbud out, grinning softly, “Sorry, whawasthat? Didn’t quite hear you, Princey.”
He squinted and repeated himself, again, but this time he didn’t yell. “I said, will you marry me? I can’t wait until our anniversary dinner to ask.” He open the little velvet box, revealing the ring that was now placed proudly on his finger.
“Can you do me a favor and reach behind that pillow there?” Roman raised an eyebrow and pointed at the couch pillow just behind him, “Yeah, yeah. That one. Just- I think I lost something down there, I’ll answer in a minute this is more important, thank you.” His smile got wider and wider as Roman reached down and picked up the little box. He looked up at Virgil’s shit-eating grin shellshocked. “Well… Open it.” The look on Roman’s face made the aggravating shopping and designing for the ring worth it. One of the many things he did not expect, was how well the rings matched. His beautiful moon and stars and Roman’s gorgeous, if he did say so himself, sun.
Today, he smiled as Roman showed off their son as well as his ring and how it sparkled in the midday sun.
“Look, see. See how this gorgeous Scapolite gem is set in the middle as these diamond studded gold pieces are looped around it, causing a tiny gemstone sun? My husband, over on the bench there? He’s with the Peter’s best friend Missy? We’re babysitting them for the week. Anyways, he’s a big shot designer and he designed it himself.” He could hear him bragging about /him/ now.
“How did you know Mr. Roman was the one?” The little kid next to him asked.
“Oh, well, Missy. I didn’t. See, it’s not really something you know.”
“Oh… Well, how did you know you loved him?”
“…” He took in a breath, thinking about it. “This is going to sound extremely cliché and Roman is never to hear that I said this.” They nodded eagerly. He sighed dreamily. “I had a really bad panic attack and he followed me. He calmed me down and sang to me, really, it was what he always did when this happened. Absolutely nothing was different about it, but..” His gaze went back to Roman, had turned to wave at him, smiling that gorgeous, sunshaming smile of his. He waved back. “Suddenly, it felt like… He was a sun in my dark world.”
“Is that why his ring looks like the sun?”
“It is.” A few moments of silence passed.
“You were right.”
“About?”
“That was really cliché and you’re a total sap.”
“I didn’t say that last-”
“Still true.”
He stuck his tongue out in response. Later that night, Peter and Missy would tell each other the meaning of the rings, they had planned this, and come to the same conclusion.
Peter’s dads were total saps and they were definitely telling Uncle Pat.
For the tsficexchange! I got @princeyandanxiety !! Obviously I went with Prinxiety. I figured you’d prefer that, Bells. ((But do tell me if I was wrong))
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ohparkers · 7 years
Text
Sleepwalking
Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader
Word Count: 2.4k
Warnings: Cursing, awkwardness, sleep deprivation (?)
Summary: You stayed up late on a school night, and the side effects are as prominent as ever the next morning.
A/N: I wrote this over a couple of days so I’m sorry if some parts are a little wonky or inconsistent. It’s my longest imagine yet, lol. Also I might make this a series, maybe, maybe not :-) I’ll see how you guys like it. Ok, I think that’s it,,, enjoy!!
Staying up until 3 AM on a school night was never a good idea. However, after the new season of Stranger Things had just been released onto Netflix, your brain suddenly disregarded this well-known fact and decided that it would be a good idea to binge all the episodes in a single night. You’d certainly enjoyed the new season, but you weren’t enjoying the after effects of only getting three hours of sleep. 
That was why when you’d stumbled onto the train the following morning, hair tied up in the messiest bun it’d ever been in, it took all of your willpower not to just fall asleep standing there holding onto the rail. It was just your luck that there were no open seats and you had been forced to stand up, cramming yourself in between other commuters and students and clutching onto the metal pole with one hand. You almost pulled out your phone to lazily scroll through social media, but thought better of it when the train rocked slightly and you almost went flying down the aisle.
Note to self: No matter how much Nancy Wheeler is your “badass queen”, there was no way you were going to function getting through a whole seven hour school day like this. 
For heaven’s sake, even the extra-large, extra-hot coffee you’d downed before you left your apartment wasn’t even working. This was bad. And it could only get worse.
Your stop finally approached, and as the moving monorail slowly came to a stop you deemed it safe to use your cell phone to send a quick text to MJ. 
Dude, I think I’m gonna pass out. How tf am I going to get through Chem? Oh god, MJ, this is gonna be a disaster.
You waited for a response, but were forced to lock your phone as people all around you began to get off and on the train. The chilly autumn air hit you harshly in the face as you stepped off, moving with the pace of the crowd. Luckily, the walk to Midtown from the train station wasn’t far. 
Tucking your hands into the pockets of your army green jacket, you walked cautiously, so as to not completely fall forwards on your face. By the time you made it to the front campus of Midtown, the migraine inhabiting your head had already gotten what felt like ten times worse. 
The school was alive with the buzz of students, or as alive as a building full of teenagers could be in the early hours of a Monday morning. Adjusting your backpack straps on your shoulder, you quickly spotted your friend perched on a bench just outside the front doors.
You picked up your pace only slightly, silently making your way over to greet the brunette, who’s curly mop of hair was turned downwards, nose tucked in a thick novel. “MJ!” You breathed, the breeze sending a short chill down your spine. 
She looked up at you, a scowl already adorning her features before she realized that it was you speaking to her. Her facial expression quickly changed into a pitiful smile. “Oh my god, Y/N, you look kind of dead.”
You managed out a chuckle, even though you knew she was completely right. A side effect of getting little to no sleep is not being in the right state of mind to actually pick out a decent outfit. That morning, in the midst of your exhausted haze, you’d thrown on a pair of dark wash skinny jeans and a gray long-sleeved pullover, which you’d paired with your green jacket and black vans. The outfit could have been worse, but you hadn’t even bothered trying with your hair, instead leaving it in the messy bun you slept in. 
So yeah, Michelle wasn’t too far off in saying that you looked kind of dead.
“Never mind that. It was all worth it to see more of the love of my life kicking some supernatural butt.” Grinning, you grabbed your friend by the wrist and pulled her to make her stand up.
MJ rolled her brown eyes. “Yeah, yeah, we all know about your insane girl crush.”
You returned the scowl she had given you before, then began walking, though you weren’t denying her accusation. Could you really even argue with that? Nope. The answer was no.
The taller girl fell into step next to you, and you chatted about some of your shared classes before you finally entered through the front doors of Midtown. It was always a struggle to maneuver through the crowds in the hallways, but after three years of attending the school you’d learned to manage it.
Your first class of the day was AP English, which fortunately you shared with your best friend. After a brief stop at your lockers, you headed towards the classroom together. The two of you made it through the door just as the second bell clanged throughout the halls, making you both cringe slightly and rush to sit down.
The class dragged on rather slowly, but you were thankful that it was a fairly easy lesson. If you day had started with something like Physics, you had no idea how you would’ve managed to even keep your eyes open for the whole hour long period. 
When the class was finally over, you packed up your things and headed out of the room. You were going to Chemistry and MJ was headed to Algebra, but both of the rooms were in the same wing of the school, so you could walk together. You were almost at the door to the lab when you stopped dead in your tracks. Oh no. No, no, no.
“MJ, wait.” Tugging on the sleeve of her sweatshirt, you pulled her over towards you, your eyes wide as saucers.
She raised her eyebrows. “What is it?”
“My Chem folder! It’s sitting on my kitchen counter. Oh my god, MJ, oh my god.  What if the teacher does one of those note checks? Holy shit. I’m screwed. Goodbye, A minus average. Rest in peace.” Shoving your flushed face in your hands, you pulled at the roots of your hair that had begun to fall out of the bun it was previously in. 
The brunette sighed in response, shaking her head at you. She opened her mouth to say something before closing it abruptly, peeking her head into the doorway of the classroom and looking back at you with a wry smirk. “Hey, hey, relax. She might not check, and even if she does, you do have the smartest kid in our grade as your lab partner, need I remind you-” 
Peter. It was your turn to peer into the lab, your eyes scanning over the rows of tables until they landed on the one you shared. All you could see from this angle was the back of his head, soft brown curls smushed down by the silly goggles he’d already adorned. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip at the sight, becoming temporarily distracted and losing your train of thought.
“-Just go in there. You don’t want to be late.” MJ continued, shoving you lightly by the shoulder and turning to walk in the other direction. So much for support.
With that, you willed your feet to carry you into the brightly-lit lab room bustling with students. Taking a deep breath, you passed the couple of rows in the back of the room, bumping into the corners haphazardly and letting out a small groan. The lack of sleep was still affecting you greatly, even though it was already almost ten in the morning.
You reached your usual table with a sigh, looking over and seeing Peter still with his head ducked down into the side drawer. Almost not even wanting to bother him, you gingerly reached over and tapped him on the shoulder.
Your hand lingered there for just a moment too long. Since when was he so muscular, holy crap-
“O-oh, Y/N!” Peter’s voice snapped you out of your momentary daze, your hand on his shoulder quickly going back by your side to grab the straps of your backpack.
A breath hitched in your throat, suddenly awkwardness swept over you like a thick blanket and you couldn’t seem to even form words. Tired eyes focusing on the ends of your partner’s curly hair, curling around his ears in small tufts of golden brown, realization settled in.
You looked like you’d just rolled out of bed. Well, because technically you did, but still.
Suddenly all you wanted to do was disintegrate into a puddle of nothingness. Not only were you completely exhausted, you looked like an utter wreck and were now acting like a blubbering idiot in front of your cute lab partner. Fantastic.
Nervously, you placed your bag down on the floor, settling into the chair to the right of Peter’s. You chewed on your bottom lip out of anxiety, drumming your fingers on the wooden tabletop.
The bell rang again, sending the classroom that was previously bustling with conversation hushed into silence at the sight of your teacher entering through the door. Great, now even if you wanted to apologize to Peter for acting so weird, you couldn’t.
The teacher made her way to the front of the room, coffee cup in hand. She put her stack of papers down on her desk before promptly launching into a lecture about the activity you’d be doing that day. From the corner of your eye, you noticed Peter rush to remove his goggles and stop fiddling with whatever he was making in the drawer.
You were used to these long instructional talks, however, this one seemed to be droning on an excessively lengthy amount of time. There was no way you’d get to complete a whole lab with only nearly half of the class period left. Hey, at least you were sure that there wouldn’t be a notes check that day. At least that relieved some of your stress.
Slowly but surely, you could subconsciously feel yourself drift off, the hand supporting your head atop the table providing a makeshift pillow. Unrested eyes fluttering shut easily, before you could stop it you were out like a light.
A nudge at your side. Nothing.
A tap at your foot. Nope.
From across the table, Peter’s mind and heart were racing. The teacher would look over here at any second, and you were not-so-subtly snoozing out in the middle of class. 
He didn’t know any other way to get you to wake up; and he had to get you awake, although you were blatantly exhausted, your teacher would certainly give you detention if she caught you.
Wiping his hands on his jeans, Peter willed his heart to stop beating so fast. It didn’t listen. The nervous boy reached under the table, taking the hand that wasn’t holding your head up and - he held his breath - took it in his, giving it a gentle squeeze.
The unfamiliar contact caused your eyes to fly open in surprise, while Peter let out a deep breath from beside you. He quickly removed his hand from yours (as much as he didn't want to), a blush forming on his freckled cheeks. You were about to turn to him, confused, but were cut off.
“Y/N? Do you know the answer?” 
Your eyebrows raised in shock. Looking up to the front of the room, you met the gaze of your unamused professor.
Next to you, your partner hurriedly scribbled out something in the margin of his notebook before pushing it over towards your line of vision. Trying to discreetly look down, you read the words on the page with a shaky voice. “U-um. Yes? I mean, um, you would need to use Raoult’s Law.”
Your teacher nodded suspiciously,“Yes, that’s correct.” before focusing her attention on the white board behind her. When you sensed that she was no longer looking in your direction, you turned to Peter.
“Holy crap, thank you so much!” You whispered. 
Peter shrugged, clicking his pen repeatedly, a nervous habit he couldn’t seem to kick. “O-of course. I mean, it’s not like you wouldn’t do the same for me, wait, uh, I didn’t mean that you-” His cheeks darkened in color, if that was even possible.
You bit down on your lip in order to try and hide a smile. God, he was so cute. And he held your hand.
He held your hand.
It felt like your heart was going to burst out of your chest from how fast it was racing. Did this mean-
Just then, the bell rang. The fucking bell rang. As students around you packed up their belongings and headed out, the two of you seemed glued down to your chairs. Both of you wanted to say something, anything, but neither of you could find the right words.
As more people funneled out, you decided it was now or never. You suddenly forgot about your disheveled hair and the fact that yesterday’s mascara was still kind of smudged under your eyes.
“Do you-”
“We should-”
You both blurted out at the same time, looking over at each other with eyes as wide as saucers. Your hand flew over your mouth, trying to conceal laughter, but when you saw Peter doing the same you decided to just let it go. Giggling like a toddler at your total awkwardness, your eyes met his.
You stopped laughing. “Um,”
“Uh, hey, you know what? Here.” reaching over to Peter’s spiral notebook that was still placed on top of the table, you scribbled something in the margin, similarly to how he’d done just minutes before when he totally saved your ass.
Except what you wrote wasn’t some Chemistry law. It was your phone number.
If he thought he was stuck before, Peter was really frozen in his seat now. He watched as you slid the notebook over to him with a shy smile, before picking up your backpack and walking out the door. 
From the doorframe, you turned to meet his gaze one more time, grinning before heading to your next class.
Peter clutched the notebook in his arms, close to his chest, where he could still feel his heart racing.
“Parker, get out of here!” The teacher demanded, causing the blushing boy to practically jump out of his chair and race out the door to find Ned and tell him everything.
Tags: @nedslaptop
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schfifty-five · 5 years
Text
 so grateful to have had the science teachers that i did. every single one has had a profound effect on me, and they were all weird in a way that reminded me i wasn’t alone.  (ordered by grade 1-12, skipping grade 2)
mrs. perino: we passed a jar of heavy whipping cream around the class and shook it till we had butter. she brought bread it so we could try it!
mrs. giordano in third grade, still remember learning how your lungs take in your deoxygenated blood and convert it to oxygenated blood. (she gave away two reference books to the best 2 science students that year and i got the book about marine life and cheyne westerman got the book about the human body and i was honestly devastated by that and continue to be to this day)
mrs. nole, in retrospect, kinda scarred me for life with that day where she kept all the girls back from recess and let us out one by one in order of how well behaved we were. i was last. still relatively patient otherwise. she did, at least, instill a strong understand of the scientific method, which i would be helpless without.
mrs daviskiba, classic old lady science teacher. i remember her saying she didn’t understand why people tried to get rid of wrinkles because hers were only there because she smiled all the time and why would that be a bad thing
mrs. brugger taught me the value of reading and taking notes, as well as how to read a textbook without dying. didn’t really appreciate that till college when i skipped all my classes and taught myself everything in half the time by reading and taking fuckin notes.
MR DVORIN i think in my mind that class was just him and me having a convo. i remember many lessons would just be me, kneeling in my chair, talking with my hands, throwing out hypotheticals to get a better grasp of the scientific principles he was trying to convey. his patience helped me truly understand and love chemistry/physics concepts. i remember being so confused by a question on a test once, and not understanding why i didn’t know the answer, and i just fucking cried like a baby for at least one minute during a 7th grade science test. i distinctly remember him mentioning the statistic that 1 in 10 people are gay in response to something ignorant a classmate stated (which i do not remember). although not necessarily “fact”, it’s more than likely true (given that the current adult population was raised before the extremely recent and still-needing-work movement to accept LGBT ppl) and regardless, it opened my mind to the possibility that not being straight wasn’t “one in a million” type thing. also just in general, he would level with us like any good teacher does. a kid knows when you’re treating them like a kid, and i was so much more comfortable learning when i was treated how i felt.
for example, one time i think we were talking about bad habits or maybe someone was being critical of a nose-picker, but at one point he was like “no guys i’m not saying anything, but if you see a white honda accord sitting at the stoplight outside in the morning, you might see me picking my nose.” his delivery was better but it was validating to see an adult be as candid and as unashamed as i was (or as willing to embrace shame as i was), so i remember that. 
also interesting follow up story, the next year he fell off his roof and broke both his ankles and also got divorced because he was gay. so after knowing and loving him so much everyday for a year, and then having two major things happen to him and i had no way to reach out-- to say i’m sorry and you will get through this-- that was hard. it also made me wonder if he was suffering when i was his student. i was sad to think that someone was struggling with a decision, with a life change, and all i did was spectate. in my mind, he was my friend, and i felt like i had let him down. 
mr. smith was also a gift in that he made me appreciate mr. dvorin so much. he taught with enthusiasm and he definitely made “louder” (more dramatic or eccentric) attempts to convey information with visuals, experiments, jokes, anecdotes. he was a great teacher, but  dvorin was too hard an act to follow, and i’ll only remember mr. smith as a science teacher who was more of a Babysitter than a Science Friend. (which, in retrospect, was probably necessary. any teacher that didn’t tolerate my bullshit, like mr. smith, was crucial to me turning into a moderately acceptable employee)
mr. campbell (biology) i don’t know where to start with this class. the phrase “fucking iconic” comes to mind, but i think that’s more in reference to mr. campbell than the class. it was token milford though. the selection of kids, specifically. plenty of asshole lil bitch boys to pick on me, thankfully seated on the other side of the room. iggy bernotas in front of me. we actually got along great, he was nice and we became good friends on the basis of busting one another’s balls. i once wrote “fatty” (he was tall and skinny) on the back of his sweater as a tasteless joke (i was 14 and had a horrible sense of social norms). although the execution sucked, i stand behind the sentiment. that was the essence of our relationship. i think we were both a little too familiar with being the butt of mean jokes, and getting teased in a non-malicious way (by people who have nothing to gain or lose from you) is incredibly relieving. his mom found it though, and i got called to the principal's offiice. i bawled my eyes out trying to explain that we were friends. i had to take his sweater home and get the ink out, on the condition that i’d pay for it if i didn’t. i felt like an asshole, i just wanted to give him a hard time. iggy wasn’t mad though, i told him how bad i felt. everything was good. regardless, the joking and friendly vibe was arguably sustained by savannah right next to us. she had transferred to milford that year so she didn’t know i wasn’t cool. i don’t remember how i acted in that class, but i’m sure savannah was more tolerant that i deserve, and i remember how kind she was to both iggy and i. vinnie was in front of her, also very patient and kind. anyone that has been around me before yesterday is kind and patient honestly.
mr. campbell is not easy to describe. it takes a semester of his class to truly appreciate this man. i hope if i read this in the future i’ll remember exactly what i mean.  that year in biology was one of my favorites. I will remember the view from my desk forever.
MRS GLEASON taught me so much about love, forgiveness, enthusiasm, and how you don’t have to be bouncing off the walls every day, but that it doesn’t mean you aren’t allowed to bounce off the walls if that’s the kind of day it is. i have a lot of ups and downs, and people have trouble dealing with unpredictable moods, so on down days, i used to spend a lot of energy that i didn’t have trying to poorly maintain the persona that people expected, and now i just don’t. i get down some days, and i get happy and energetic other days. that doesn’t mean i won’t still do a good job. mrs. gleason got through to me and i gained a majority of my scientific confidence in her class, but she didn’t have to be the exact same person everyday. a lot of people are stable everyday, but if you aren’t, that’s ok.
Mrs. Kempff would’ve been a great teacher, and AP chem could’ve been a way better class, but i was extremely anxious and in a bad way during junior year. i don’t remember much of what happened, but i know i could’ve mastered the content of that class if i had better tools to deal with my “fuckin head” as they say. 
mrs. gleason also taught me physics in senior year which was pretty fun. everyone needs to understand AT LEAST conceptual physics. if you have any interest in increasing the efficiency of your life and the actions you take, learn basic physics. if you have any interest in anything, basic physics.
i feel like i probably had one or two decent science professors in college, but i never went to class, so i wouldn’t know. I would like to thank me for teaching me science in college. me was very inspiring and showed me that you can accomplish anything you believe in, as long as it’s before the adderall wears off.
thank you for reading, i hope you have all had wonderful science teachers and you use your science knowledge to make the world more gooder.
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“You could always try talking to her.” MJ repeats without looking up from her book. She knows that Peter will ignore her advice, again. As soon as you became the topic of conversation, Ned and Peter wouldn’t listen to her. It didn’t matter how right she was. And MJ wonders how long she can handle this, because it’s starting to get annoying. “Y/n l/n looked so good at that party.” Ned continues his discussion with Peter. “Definitely.” Peter and Ned both continue to ignore MJ. “Y/f/c is her color. That might be her best dress.” MJ wonders how much more of this she can physically put up with. “How would you know? You weren’t invited.” “It was all over Instagram,” Peter says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Yeah, he stalks her instagram all the time,” Ned adds. Peter glares at his friend. “I don’t.” “Peter, you’re literally an avenger, talk to her.” MJ could explode. “She doesn’t know that!” He whisper hisses. “She probably doesn’t even know I exist.” “Then why is she walking over here?” MJ replies smoothly. “What?” Peter whispers before turning around. Sure enough, you were approaching their table. Peter looks around, trying to find anyone that you might actually be looking for. “Hi,” you say as soon as you’re close to the table. “You’re Peter, right? We had history together last year.” “Yeah, I’m Peter, always been Parke—Peter Parker.” Peter mentally kicks himself. “Second period history, last year. I remember. Mrs. Hanson loved you and you loved the class except when we had those detailed reports, you always kinda scrunched your nose whenever we were working on them.” Why did he let himself sound like a stalker? He mentally kicks himself again. “Yeah, some people have a problem controlling their mouths and my issue is mainly facial expressions,” you laugh slightly. “Anyways, you’re in the first AP chem class of the day right?” “Yes,” he replies a little too quickly. You smile slightly. “Is there going to be a pop quiz today? Because some of my friends said they heard there would be. I’d ask my friend Eliza, she’s in your class, but she’s at the dentist today, so...” “There’s a quiz, but it’s not that hard,” Peter finally says. “I mean, it’s based on the homework. So as long as you did the reading and answered the questions you’ll be fine.” When Peter sees your relieved expression, he has to bite back a smile. Calming down had somehow made you prettier. “That’s great. I’m still a little iffy on the whole chapter, but I understood this weekend’s homework.” You smile and Peter’s heart all about stops. “Y/n!” A blonde girl in a black crop top calls behind you in the noisy cafeteria. You turn your head and hold up two fingers to tell her to give you two minutes, not wanting to just walk away mid-conversation. You hated that kind of rudeness. Meanwhile, Peter’s amazed. You had the time to go to the party that one of your popular friends had thrown, participate in community service at the animal shelter, and finish your AP homework. Not that he’s stalking you. It’s not stalking if you happen to post something on Snapchat/Instagram, and he just happens to remember. And then go follow the account of an animal shelter that you tagged on your Instagram story. “Y/n!” The same blonde calls again. “Sorry, I better go before Cheyanne gets a detention,” you turn to leave. Peter sees his one, miracle chance slipping away and he’s debating whether or not to say something else. “Test, Chem test.” You pause after Peter blurts that out. “There’s a chem test next week and if you feel like you don’t get something from this chapter I could go over it with you.” You don’t answer right away. Peter panics and adds this next part in a rush or words, “Imeanonlyifyouwantto.” “That’d be great,” you smile again and Peter could just die. Peter quickly grabs a pen and scribbles his number on a napkin and hands it to you. When you reach out to take it, your fingers brush. Peter wonders why his spidey sense can’t warn him about things like this. “Thanks,” you fold the napkin and put it in the pocket of your jeans. “Y/n!” Your friend yells again. “See ya later,” you add. “Yeah, See ya.” “You gave y/n your number!” Ned high fives Peter as soon as you’re out of earshot. “I stuttered and I sounded like a stalker,” Peter face palms. “Maybe she didn’t notice?” Ned offers. “That was hard to watch,” MJ turns a page in her book. “If it had lasted longer I could have drawn you in your biggest crisis.” Peter sighs, “Sorry, next time I’ll try to extend my humiliation.” “At least she has your number and a reason to call.” Ned tries. Peter gets through the school day doing everything he can to avoid making eye contact with you in the halls. Not that you look at him in the halls, like ever. When he goes on patrol later that evening, he keeps checking his phone. Everything is relatively uneventful, so Peter finds himself checking your Snapchat. He remembers what Ned said, about him stalking you on social media. “Karen, why am I like this?” “Like what, Peter?” Look at him. Turning to his suit AI with questions he can’t even word correctly. “Hey, get off of me.” A voice distracts him. Peter stands up on instinct and looks down from the roof he’s standing on. He’s beyond surprised to see you standing there, still wearing the outfit you wore to school. “Is that the girl?” Karen asks. “Y/n.” Peter wonders why he talks to Karen so much. “Yes.” A guy Peter recognizes from school is walking really close to you. Football player. Annoying. “Come on, everyone knows you’re easy.” “Shut up,” you try not sound as hostile as you want to be. Were the occasional rumors that you were easy annoying? Yes, a little, especially since you’ve never even kissed a guy before. But people talk and life could be a lot worse. And your friends know the truth, right? Even if they push you to go out more than you want, especially with homework. They get you, right? “Get off of me.” He’s pushed you into the wall a little more. Peter reminds himself that right now he’s Spider-Man and this is definitely a situation that he needs to stop. Peter quickly gets off the roof and intervenes, getting rid of the guy. “Are you Alright?” “Yeah,” You smile a little, “Thank you, for that.” “Just a day in the life of your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.” You squint a little. “You sound familiar.” Crap. Peter clears his throat. “No, I’ve never met you.” There’s silence again. “Do you want me to walk you home?” You two walk side by side. It’s a little too quiet for a minute. “You know I’m not as slutty as that situation made me seem,” you say randomly. “Not that there’s anything wrong with slutty, it’s just not me. I’ve never even kissed anyone before.” This takes Peter back. No, he didn’t think that you slept with everyone on the football team (not that he’d care if you had), but he never thought you’d never have kissed anyone. “I didn’t think you were.” “My friends like to talk, and make jokes. People take it literally.” You shrug a little. “I guess sometimes it has to make me wonder how well they actually know me. It’s easy to see someone a certain way, but it’s even easier to get that mixed up, y’know?” Peter could have never guessed that you felt like that. Ever. “I do.” You laugh, “I have no idea why I’m telling you this.” “It’s easy to talk to a mask.” — That was about four months ago. After learning how you felt, Peter decided to try to be your friend. Like a real, genuine one. It started the day after he talked to you at lunch. You had texted him asking about AP chem. After a study session that involved more talking than actual studying, a friendship was born. “Hey, loser,” you pop into Peter’s room after May let you in. “You’re the loser,” he smile. You roll your eyes and flop onto his bed. “I can’t stay for long because I have so much homework.” “So do I. We could do it together,” he offers. “Yeah, that used to be fun, and then you started running out on me every time.” You unzip your backpack. Peter scratches the back of his head, feeling a little guilty about his Spider-Man duties. “I won’t this time. I promise.” You don’t say anything. “When we finish we can watch a movie, and I have that ice cream you like.” “Parker, keep offering me ice cream and I’m going to fall in love with you.” Peter wishes what you were saying wasn’t a joke. You wish that Peter could see you loving him as something more than a joke. “Catch,” you hold out a gummy worm from your back pack and toss it at Peter, who catches it smoothly. You both end up watching Star Wars and eating ice cream. Peter Parker made you feel like yourself. Being with him made you feel like you were no longer living your life like someone in a picture. “You know at one point you’re going to get a girlfriend that’s going to replace me in this scenario,” you mumble. “No one could replace you,” Peter says a little too seriously. “You’re too weird,” he adds to ease the mood. “Wow, when the weirdo says I’m weird, I know I have to worry.” You watch Peter roll his eyes. “But in all seriousness, there’s no other person, dork or otherwise, I’d want to eat ice cream with while watching Star Wars with.” Peter smiles, which makes your heart feel warm. “Aww, you like me.” “No, I don’t,” You scoff, “you’re weird and I called you a dork.” You sit up a little bit more, nervous. “But, actually, do you like anyone? Like in a boyfriend-girlfriend way?” “Yes.” His voice is so soft you can barely hear it. You want to know and also never want to talk about this again. Your bubble with Peter is perfect. “Spill.” “No.” “You’re so rude,” you glare at him. “I’m not going to tell anyone!” “Okay, fine,” Peter agrees before bending a finger at you, telling you to scoot closer. You listen, scooting closer. In fact, you’re so close to him that if your head hadn’t been turned to the side, your lips could’ve brushed. “I’m Spider-Man,” he whispers into your ear, making you shiver slightly. This makes you laugh like crazy. “Peter I’m serious.” “It doesn’t matter.” “Is this because you think I’ll meddle?” “Maybe a little.” You don’t move away from him, but you’re glaring at him. “I won’t—“ He cuts you off with a look. “Okay, but my meddling is only for your own good.” “Y/n/n,” he sighs, “let this go, please?” “Fine, then I won’t tell you who I like.” This feels like a major mistake. Peter stiffens. “You like someone?” “Um...you know I—“ Something in Peter tells him this is his now or never moment. “Let’s say it at the same time.” Oh, shit. You’re going to have to hear him say some other girl’s name when you say his. “Fine.” “One.” “Two.” “Three.” On three, both of you say, “You.” After that, you both kind of stare at each other in shock. “Can I kiss you?” “I think I’m going to be mad if you don’t.” The kiss is perfect. Soft, passionate, and something else that makes it addictive. “We should’ve done this a long time ago,” you say as soon as you pull away for air. “Then let’s make up for it.”
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