#SINCE PEOPLE KEEP REPOSTING THESE WITHOUT SAYING THAT THEY ARE FAKE I ADDED THAT DISCLAIMER | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ohnobjyx · 4 years

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Don’t you think that the dates and hours are sometimes too far fetched? Like they can posting at any time and people will be like it means he loves Zhan? I mean no hate but how do we know when he post without paying attention to when he is when whenever he post something it has a signification?

Hi, anon! I remembered your asks, since it’s related to what has happened lately with the supposed kadian from dd’s and yibo official’s account. I leave a link here to a related post in case you haven’t seen it already.

Disclaimer: fake fake fake.

(I talk in this post about dd because that was what anon was asking about, but ofc gg uses kadian too, though less often).

This comes from that post about dd saying that he’d pay attention to dates and times and give surprises to his partner in that TTXS episode. Let’s first notice that “times“ it’s an awfully specific detail to pay attention to. If he had just said “dates” no one would think twice about it, but he specifically added “times” to the equation.

Well, the fact is that we have all noticed that dd uses kadian. He doesn’t just use it for gg, in a recent post he also used kadian (18:21) refering to his longtime favourite Rossi and he used kadian to promote his good friend YZ’s new drama not so long ago (a BL drama, in case anyone is curious).

In this case it’s very telling that he edited the post 2 times. He doesn’t usually do that, he usually just deletes and posts again, but in this case he probably wanted to keep the kadian, so he edited it again.

Tonight at 8 PM, please support the no.9 Yamaha racer! (+the drama tag, promotional phrase, etc.)

He used kadian at 16:09 to refer to YZ’s number in motorcycle races. But he forgot to add that bit in the first post, so he edited it.

So all in all, he does use kadian. Here is a very helpful post.

As I mentioned in the post up there, I think a kadian (if it’s such) it’s relevant if:

The content is related to gg (like the ice cream video, or the colgate ad with the “how can you achieve the most beautiful smile?” or the black sneakers photo).The most famous one is that chat they had when they used kadian in 3 consecutive posts, and gg missed his by a minute, so he answered with a sad meme (I can’t find those pictures, if anyone could link them I’d be very grateful).

It’s obvious that it was deliberately posted at that time. An example for this is the post on 190704 13:10, when he uploaded a promotional post for Let’s Sacalaca. From a logical perspective, if you’re told to promote the episode you appear in, you’d promote it before it’s aired, so your fans will know that you’re in it and watch it. The episode was aired at 12:00. He posted an hour later, when the episode was almost finishing: in that episode, he drew a heart on the sea with the jet ski. So there are many things that made bxg think that the kadian was intentional.

He posted the next promotional post at 12:03 (a week later, in the 3rd episode). He was almost on time. I twas just such a coincidence that he was late by 3 minutes and that that episode was also filled with winks to yizhan.

It’s a response to a post where gg has used kadian. Gg updated w/ibo on 200605 with a kadian 13:28 and a post that mirrors those from 2017, when dd posted a “response” to one of gg’s post (they haven’t met each other yet, besides the ttxs episode where they saw each other for the first time).

Dd, that day, updated at 16:03, an ad for one of his endorsements. Some fans got the data (I think from an app, I don’t know where they got it from) that dd had been online that day from 16:00 to 16:02 (implying that he had scheduled the post, because he was offline before 16:03). It can be a coincidence (like the post uploaded the second 16:02 turned into 16:03), but well... when it’s a coincidence after another one must start doubting about whether they were coincidences.

Of course, anon, besides the actual conversation these two had with the kadian, you could deem all of these as coincidences. And I wouldn’t blame you. Kadian is one of the most difficult candies to pinpoint, especially if you don’t speak Chinese, and it doesn’t help that some fans (I did a couple of times too) over analyze it, seeing kadian everywhere (”if you actually take the 1and the 2 and add them up, then it becomes 3, so it’s a message for gg!” please don’t, guys, I don’t think they’d use kadian that requires operating to get to the desired result).

However, you have to keep in mind that they can choose at what time to post. I haven’t seen how, but it’s mostly accepted that they can schedule their posts, like you can with tumblr posts. And also, that they can delete and post again if they noticed the discussion about their post and it bothered them. But as sometimes dd has done, sometimes he’s so keen on keeping the kadian that he rather edits the post, instead of reposting as he usually does when there’s no significance in the time (that’s why fans usually pay a lot of attention to posts he has edited).

I hope I’ve helped you with this, anon!

#yizhan #bjyx #kadian #ask #my post

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theycallmebecca · 5 years

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Drabble: High School Reunion

This story was written for @mycapt-ohcapt in celebration of her birthday! This was totally inspired by Chris going to his high school reunion recently.

This really is too long to be called a drabble, but I only post drabbles on this blog so that’s what it’s going to be called.

Title: High School Reunion

Pairing: Chris Evans x reader

Rating: PG

Warnings: n/a

Disclaimer: This work of fiction is not to be reposted, used or translated without my permission.

A “Welcome Class of 1999!” banner greeted you as you entered the venue that was hosting your 20 year high school reunion. You were still in disbelief that it had been that long since you’d graduated, but here was the proof.

You hadn’t become the world famous model that you had dreamed of become in high school, but you’d done pretty well for yourself. After all, it was your party planning company that had coordinated tonight’s event. You’d spent the afternoon here overseeing everything until your business partner, Maggie, had kicked you out, reminding you that tonight you were a guest and she would take care of everything.

It wasn’t until now, when you were in the restaurant with your classmates, that you realized how odd it was to actually be attending a party your company was throwing. You always tried to blend into the background and keep your eyes out to keep disasters from happening, but tonight you would be doing the exact opposite.

“You look like you need this,” a voice said from behind you.

Turning around, you found yourself looking at Chris Evans, your one time lab partner who had become a global celebrity. You’d run into him a time or two around town over the years, but only for a minute or two and you had never been able to really gage how he had changed over the years. Now, however, he stood before you with a name tag that said “Chris”, acting as if he didn’t star in the number 1 movie in the world, and holding out a wine glass towards you.

“Thanks,” you replied, taking the glass from him. You and Chris hadn’t been best friends by any means, but you had always been friendly and it felt natural to add, “Nice name tag.”

“I was told I had to wear it or I couldn’t come inside,” he replied with a shrug. “And since it was coming from the wife of one of my friends, I figured I couldn’t argue without getting him into trouble. Tomorrow’s their anniversary, so I figured I’d take one for the team.” He gave you a lazy smile and you chuckled.

Chris opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by two of his former wrestling teammates practically accosting him. He shot you an apologetic look as the two men began to talk to him at the same time and you gave him a small smile before walking away to say hello to some friends who had just walked in.

It was nearly an hour later before Chris found you again. Like in high school, you had floated in between groups of friends, catching up with people. Eventually, you had grabbed a plate of food and then had joined some friends at a table, but you were by yourself when he appeared at your side.

“I have a bone to pick with you,” he said, dropping a business card onto the table. It was obviously yours, you could tell at first glance. “I’m pretty sure I’m the one who came up with this name in the tenth grade.”

You stared at the business card for a second before the memory came back to you. You’d had to build a fake business in a marketing class and hadn’t been able to come up with a name. You’d asked Chris for help brainstorming during science lab and he had helped come up with the name.

“I’m pretty sure it was a group effort,” you responded, going with your gut instinct that he was just messing with you. “And besides, you didn’t trademark it. But I did.”

“That’s because you’re a good business woman,” Chris said and he sat down in an empty chair.

“Where’d you get that?” You asked casually.

“It’s on the sign in table,” he replied with a shrug. “Not in an obvious place but there for the taking. As are the fancy pens. I grabbed a handful of the cards to give to my family. They’re always looking for an excuse to have a party.”

“Well thank you,” you told him as a familiar song came on.

The reunion planning committee had been specific that only songs released or made famous during your senior year were to be played at the party. It only took you a few seconds to recognize the song as -

“Smooth,” Chris said as he too recalled the Carlos Santana song that Rob Thomas had sung on. A small smile crossed his lips and he added, “it brings back one of the few positive memories I have of prom night.”

It only took you a second to remember what had happened to him prom night: his date ditching him for her ex boyfriend in the middle of the evening. You had gone with friends and had convinced Chris to come dance with you with the song had come on.

“Makes me wish I had stuck with my original plan of asking you to be my date that night,” he sighed. “We would have had a fantastic evening.”

“We would have,” you agreed. You hadn’t had a crush on Chris, back in the day, but you hadn’t been immune to his charm either. And he hadn’t been awful to look at then. He was the opposite of awful, now.

As the last notes of Smooth faded away, the class president took the stage and talked for nearly thirty minutes. Recognizing those that had passed since the 10 year reunion and your company’s contribution all the while ignoring the elephant in the room that was Chris’s success as a movie star. It wasn’t until one of Chris’s buddies yelled it out that Chris was there that the class president finally acknowledged the feat. (All the while gritting his teeth because HE had been voted most likely to succeed.)

The class secretary followed the class president, but instead of talking, she told everyone that the class photo would be happening in twenty minutes and that the venue was booked until 11pm and everyone was welcome to stay until then.

Chris stayed by your side as everyone got arranged for the class photo and then posed. But the second it was done, the people who hadn’t realized he was there earlier descended upon him asking for photos and wanting to “catch up with an old friend”.

You slipped away from the madness and couldn’t help but survey the party. Your staff had been at the top of their game tonight, keeping the appetizers stocked and the tables clear of abandoned plates and cups.

Hearing your name, you turned and smiled when you saw an old friend who had arrived late. The two of you spent the next hour catching up and only realized how late it was when Chris showed up at your side. He greeted your friend by name as if they had just seen each other last week instead of years ago. The three of you made small talk for a couple minutes before she had to leave, with one of your business cards in her hand from Chris.

“I’ve been asked to escort you home,” Chris told you once you were alone.

“You were what?” You asked, glancing around assuming it was a joke. Then you caught the eye of your business partner and understood when she pointed to the door; your help wasn’t wanted for tearing down the party. “You know Maggie then?”

“She’s an old friend of my sister's,” he replied with a shrug and then a grin. “And she may or may not have dirt on me that I’d rather not have my sister know about.”

“Taking one for the team again?” You asked, though you made a mental note to ask Maggie about said dirt later.

“Something like that,” he replied, but not in the same cocky manner he had used earlier when telling you about his buddy. “Did you drive?”

“I walked, my place is only a couple blocks away,” you said.

“Can I walk you home?” He offered.

“You don’t have to,” you told him. “It’s really not far and-”

“I’d like to,” he cut you off. “We didn’t get to talk as much as I’d hoped we would.”

“Alright then,” you replied with a smile. “I’m ready when you are.”

The two of you said your goodbyes and then left the restaurant. Conversation flowed easily between you as you walked the few blocks to your house.

“This is me,” you said, nodding to a small cottage.

“It looks nice,” Chris complimented.

“Thanks, I’ve done a lot of work on it,” you said, smiling proudly at the house. Truth was you’d put as much blood, sweat and tears into the old house as you had your business.

Chris cleared his throat and you turned to look at him.

“I have a confession,” he said. “Maggie only asked me to make sure you left. I just wanted to spend a few more minutes with you, preferably some place where no one could interrupt.”

“I enjoyed spending time with you tonight,” you told him. “Both at the party and now.”

“I’m filming a movie in the area and I just bought a house out here, too,” he said before rambling on about other jobs he had planned but stressing the fact that he was making Sudbury his home again.

You couldn’t help but smile as you recalled that teenage Chris had rambled too when he was nervous. It was charming to know that he was still the same guy at the root of it all.

“If you’re trying to ask me out, the answer is yes,” you interrupted his ramble about how he still had a house in California.

“- I don’t plan -” he stopped midstream as your words seemed to register in his head. Then a lopsided grin stretched across his face along with a hint of pink that you could faintly see thanks to the street lights. “Really?”

“Yes, really,” you said with a laugh. “Give me your phone number and I’ll text you.”

He rattled off his number and you sent him a quick text that simply said: “call me to setup our date.”

“I should warn you that my weekends are pretty busy with events,” you told him. “And I’m sure your schedule will be pretty tricky, too.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Chris assured you. “Even if it’s brunch on Sunday or dessert on a Wednesday.”

“Yes we will,” you agreed as you unlocked your front door. "Well, I guess this is goodnight."

"Goodnight," he echoed with remorse in his voice.

On a whim, you kissed him on the cheek and then slipped into your house.

#chris evans #theycallmebecca #beccaheartschrisevans #theycallmebeccawrites #becca writes drabbles #chris evans fanfic #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fan fiction #chris evans x you #chris evans x reader #chris evans x y/n #reader insert #mycapt ohcapt #it's mycapts bday

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winchester90210 · 5 years

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The BH 90210 Rewrite - Pilot, part 2: West Beverly Blaze Out

Read Part One here!

Chapter Summary: Y/N tackles her first assignment on the WBB until some rain leads her plans south.

Pairing: No one yet. But it’s coming, I swear. It’s a slow burn. Just enjoy the journey there, folks.

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, Steve being Steve, Reader has a momentary breakdown.

Word Count:

Disclaimer: My work is not to be reposted in anyway without my expressed written consent. (Reblogging Is fine and encouraged!)

A/N: Last part of the pilot! There’s quite a bit of Steve this chapter but next we’re tackling our first episode which will include a lot more Brandon. Tags are at the bottom! Please message me if you would like to be added :)

Feedback is SO important!! Please leave your comments or questions in my ask box, in the replies, or message them! Even the simplest comment can make a writer’s day.

Italic sentences are the reader’s thoughts.

“So, shall we?”

“Let’s do it.”

The walk to the journalism room was quiet. You both were completely silent, the only sounds were the tapping of his shoes, and the squeaking of yours. That’s what you get for wearing new shoes to school, I guess. Your thoughts quickly drift, from the seemingly large size of the school, to Brandon, to the school’s journalism program, to that Steve guy. You haven’t even been there a day and you felt like you had so much to take in. Brenda seems nice, so you were glad to just maybe have a friend, and Brandon was probably the most attractive guy you’ve ever seen. At least, that’s what your hormones were telling you. But he’s also your prospective friend’s brother, which unfortunately trumps everything else. At least for now.

And boy, Steve was…interesting. You didn’t know what to think of him. One on hand you were totally appalled and on the other, you were almost intrigued. Not attracted, but definitely intrigued. No one had ever been so direct with you like that. A little too direct, sure, but there was still something different about it. Or maybe different about him. Either way it was something you didn’t have time to worry about, so you decided to push those thoughts away. Brandon puts a light hand on your back, guiding you inside the paper-cluttered classroom. His hand ghosting over your back is enough to send shivers down your spine as you walk inside.

“Andrea! There’s someone I want you to meet,” he calls out. A girl, or maybe it was a woman, stands up from her desk and comes to greet you and your tantalizing tour guide. Her hair is in brown curls, framing her face along with her round glasses. She carries herself with confidence, and not the faux confidence that too many people at that school seem to possess, but real confidence.

“You must be Y/N,” She shakes your hand, “Mr. Clayton told me you were coming, you have quite the transcript. Co-editor of your middle school’s newspaper, Editor of your last school’s paper by the end of Freshman year, until you moved. Very impressive!” She commends. You honestly couldn’t tell if she was a teacher or a student. She talked like a teacher, dressed like a teacher…but Brandon referred to her by her first name. Probably should’ve done your research before coming. “We’ve got two open stories right now, an interview with our custodial engineer, or you can do our ‘Star Athelete of the month’ piece with Richard Moore, point guard of the basketball team.” At the word “athelete” Brandon perked up. He was in charge of the sports articles here. What was she doing??

“Uh, Andrea-”

“Not right now, Brandon. Let her pick.” Andrea quickly dismisses him, staring daggers at him as she finishes her sentence.

“Oh, uh… I’ll take the interview with the Janitor,” You answer, looking to Andrea. Suddenly, a smile creeps onto Andrea’s face.

There’s a beat before she says, “Congratulations, welcome to the West Beverly Blaze.” Then, Brandon realizes what she was doing. Testing you, of course. “Do you want to cover the story on rising temperatures and the effect of global warming on Beverly Hills? Assigned immediately.”

“I’d love to.” You smile, approvingly, but also nervously. It sounded like a bigger story, and while intimidated, you were up for the challenge.

“Fantastic. Brandon, show her to her spot and help her get started. I have to check over the final draft for this week. This is the number one school paper in the country and I intend to keep it that way.” Andrea murmurs, flipping through the pages in her hand. He guides you to the empty spot, and pulls out your chair for you.

“So, do you just have a knack for writing about janitors?” He asks, a playful tone in his voice. You give him a small laugh.

“Oh, yeah, they’re just so fascinating,” You joke, watching as he sits down in the chair next to you. “I kind of knew she was testing me, they did the same thing at my old school. She seems to run a pretty tight ship here.”

“Yeah, she does… hey, if you need some help on anything with your article, I’d be glad to lend a hand. Ya know, since she’s strict with everything here and all.” Brandon proposes, turned to you, his arm resting on the back of his chair. In all honesty, he wasn’t any more experienced than you were. He had been at West Beverly for a few days, but hey, you didn’t know that. Something about you drew him in, and he wanted an excuse to see you again.

“I’d like that, Brandon.” You smile shyly at him, setting up your things to get to work. He does as well, accidentally bumping hands with you as he takes out his notepad. “So, do you play any sports or anything?” You ask, glancing at him as you log into your computer, hearing the clicking of the keyboard as you type. Wow, great small talk, Y/N. That will definitely make him fall in love with you.

“No, not yet, at least. I just write about them.” He chuckles. He takes a breath, “Hey, I’m sorry about Steve earlier. He doesn’t exactly understand basic human manners.”

“It’s cool, I know he didn’t really mean anything by it. I’m the new kid, I practically have a giant target on my head,” You shake your head submissively, not breaking your eyes away from the computer, trying to get as much done in the 40 minute class period as you could.

“It’s not, though. You should be able to exist at this school without Steve throwing himself at you everyday,” he insists, stopping his work to look at you. You can sense a dash of frustration when he talks. Your typing halts.

“It’s only been one day. It’s okay, really. If it gets to the point where I have to stop him, I will. Trust me…I know you just met me but…trust me. Alright?”

“Alright.”

At the end of the class you were pleased by the amount of work you got done. A surprising amount, considering you and Brandon talked mindlessly throughout the entire period, stealing glances at each other every once in a while. The conversation flowed so easily, the nerves you had meeting him were quickly replaced by a level of comfort you hadn’t expected. You were dismissed with the ringing of the bell, and were left with a sparkling smile and a “See you later?” From Brandon.

“Absolutely,” You grinned back, worrying that the heat you felt in your cheeks was visible. Ugh. You were fine a second ago, get it together, Y/N.

The rest of the day went off without a hitch, then lunch time came. The anxiety ate at your appetite all day, so you weren’t really hungry. You grabbed some fruit from the cafeteria and walked out to the quad, the grass crunching under your feet. Oh god, you think. Where were you going to sit? You could sit by yourself, which was a surefire way to get yourself branded a loser on your first day. You could join a random table, but you worried that would make you seem like a total weirdo.

“Hey, Y/N! Over here!” You look to the left, and see Brenda, with a petite blonde at her side. You quickly jog over, apple in hand.

“Brenda, you’re my savior. I hope you know that,” You joke, slightly out of breath from your little run, earning a laugh from her.

“Y/N, this is my friend Kelly. Kelly, this is Y/N, the new girl I’m showing around today,” She introduced, looking between you two, a cheery smile on her face. You both mumble “hi"s to each other.

“Oh, you should come sit with us! Where you sit during lunch can make or break you. Sit alone once, like that guy, and you’re like, socially exiled forever.” She warns, gesturing towards an otherwise empty table except for a blonde boy, working on a sandwich. Oh my god. Brandon? You follow Kelly and Brenda over to an empty table, quickly setting your stuff down with a thud.

“I’ll be right back!” You exclaim, before speed walking over to the denim-clad boy.

“What is she doing?” Kelly asks, dread coating her voice as she watches you trot over to him.

“Kelly, relax. He’s my brother, not a freshman,” Brenda objects, both pairs of eyes watching every move you made.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” he mumbles, taking a long gulp out of his water bottle. You place both your hands on the stone picnic table in front of you, leaning forward. You wait a moment before speaking.

“Come sit with us,” You tell him, gazing to your table and back to him. There’s no way you’re letting him rot in high school hell because he was alone. No way.

“I don’t know,” He protests, the wind blowing strands of hair into his face.

“Yes, you do. Come on.” You argue, a pleading look in your eye but your voice barely stern. All it takes is a moment for him to look into your eyes before he falters.

“Alright, alright, I’m coming.” He says, fake annoyance in his voice. You grin, and his annoyed face quickly turns into a smile. You march back to the table with your new lunchtime recruit at your heels, the sun in your eyes.

“Hey, you guys know Brandon right?” You ask, a cheeky smile on your face. You sit down on the bench, feeling the stone under your legs. You sit next to Kelly, while Brandon sits next to Brenda, across from you.

“I don’t believe we’ve met!” Brandon quips, shaking his sister’s hand.

You don’t realize how long you’ve been working in the journalism room until the sunset beams into your eyes. Satisfied with the work you got done, you decide to loan the school’s laptop and take it home to edit your article. That way, you’d have a shiny finished product in the morning. Yawning, you pack up your things and begin to head out. Cons of working your ass off until sundown? You don’t have a way to get home, so that means walking the 5 miles back to your house. Lovely.

Striding home, a car horn begins to trumpet. It’s loud enough for you to involuntarily cringe, then you realize it’s getting closer. What the hell?

You hesitantly look back, only to see a jet black Corvette, adorned with a custom license plate reading “I8A4RE.”

“Hop in.”

You let out a laugh in disbelief, stopping dead in your tracks. “What are you doing here?”

He slows his car down to stop where you are, “Hop in. I can take you home.” You hear the rumble of the engine, and his hand tapping the side of his car.

“You avoided my question,” You protested before opening the passenger door and sliding in.

“And you still got in anyway,” He quips, waiting for you to buckle in your seatbelt before he drives. “You seem pretty smart, I’m surprised you were dumb enough to get in with me,” Sarcasm envelopes his voice. “I could be a serial killer.”

“I’d rather be dumb and dead than have to walk,” You joke, “Besides, you seem like a tool rather than a murderer.” He lets out a fake gasp.

“Wow! I invite you to take a ride in my prestigious, luxurious car and you spit in my face.” Fake offence is written all over him.

“I8A4RE? Very prestigious. My mistake.” You giggle. There’s a long pause while Steve drives away from the school, then he speaks up again.

“So, where do you live, anyway?” He asks, raising his eyebrows and locking eyes with you for a moment.

“Uh, I live on Alta Drive. It’s in The Flats. Do you know where that is…?”

“Hah, yeah, I know where that is.” You note the tone in Steve’s voice but decide not to press. It’s probably better if you don’t know. Getting into a car with a guy you barely knew was not your smartest decision but hey, he’s a jerk, not dangerous. You embrace the feeling of the wind in your hair and on your skin as he speeds up. You admire the colors of the sunset, the oranges and the purples and the pinks. Looking upwards at the sky, something falls directly into your eyeball. You moan out in surprise, rubbing your eye immediately. And before you can say anything else, it starts to trickle down onto you. And Steve. And Steve’s poor convertible with it’s top down.

“Do you want to put the top up?” You ask, wiping your forehead free of the rain.

“Yeah…about that... It doesn’t have one.” And as if on cue, the rain speeds up.

“…..What?” You question him, your hair quickly becoming soaked.

“I had to take it off, it was broken.”

“You didn’t think of…uh, I don’t know…maybe needing one? For the rain??” The rain and the wind are an evil pair, leaving you cold and drenched while you try to figure out why the HELL Steve wouldn’t put a replacement on.

“We’re going through a drought! I figured it would be fine!” You look at Steve in disbelief. Okay, maybe something inconvenient can come of getting into a car with a jackass. “This is going to ruin my interior,” he grumbles. You close your eyes and try to calm yourself down, resting your head on the back of the seat. You’re cold. You’re wet. But it’s fine. It’s fine. It’s…not fine. Your eyes shoot open.

“Oh my god. The laptop!” You yell, causing Steve to jump. Quickly, you move your backpack under your seat. Your heart sinks. Groaning, you put your head in your hands. “I’m dead!”

“It’s just a laptop. You can buy a new one. But I don’t think I can buy new eardrums.”

“It’s not my laptop to break. I could get suspended.”

“So, just buy a replacement. They’ll never know it was gone,” he scoffs.

“How rich do you think I am? I dont have fifteen hundred dollars to get a new one!” You’re not sure what’s worse, the feeling of doom from breaking something from school on the first day, or Steve…just talking.

“You have a house in the flats. I don’t think you’re as broke as you say you are.” He protests, tone sharp. “Man, for a hot chick, you’re really annoying.” Wow. He did not. You sharply inhale.

“Pull over, I can walk,” You snap, “While I appreciate the gesture, I’ve got over a thousand dollars to scrounge up by tomorrow morning.” You’re not sure what it is, but something about him gets under your skin. Could it be his arrogance? How shallow he is? It could be something entirely different. But you didn’t feel like staying to find out. So, you wait till he gets to a stop sign, and hop out.

“Hey!! What are you doing?!” He yells, his voice cutting through the thunder and the rain.

“Going home!” Ok.. were you being stubborn? Yes. Were you being a little dramatic? Yes. But you had gone through too much change and commotion these past few days so one breakdown is totally permitted. You were drenched and chafing anyway, so why not walk at this point, right? You were sure you looked like a total manic- hair in your face, saturated clothes, frustrated demeanor.

“You can’t walk home in this!!”

“Watch me!!” You practically mad dash down the street, sloshing as you jog. You hear the Corvette drive behind you, slowly.

“Get in!” He calls out.

“No!”

“Get in.”

“No!”

“Get in!” Is he really going to keep doing this??

“No!”

“Get in!!”

“Fine!” You huff, sliding in the car. He resumes driving, and you sigh. “Thanks for driving me home.”

And before you know it, you’re turning onto your street. Oh. You totally could’ve walked that. You spot your house beyond a set of gates and fix your hair, “Here’s my stop.” 720 North Alta Drive. It’s your house, but it doesn’t quite feel like a home yet.

“See ya.”

You walk into your house and sneak up to your room, leaving a trail of water on the marble floor, following you up the stairs. Changing your clothes, you grab your phone book. You look through it, searching for a specific last name. Victoria… Wade… Wagner… Wahlberg… Walsh.

Ugh. Do you call? It might be too soon. But what if it’s not? …But what if it IS? You sit at your landline, tapping your foot. You sit like this for a good (and by good, I mean way too long) amount of time, but a knock at the front door takes you out of your state. You look through the peephole and see none other than Steve Sanders. The Corvette driver himself.

You open the door with a loud squeak.

“What are you doing here?”

Steve takes a small black book out of his pocket, scribbles something down, and hands it to you. Oh my God. It’s a check. For $1,500.

“Steve…I can’t take this.” You object, handing him back the check just as soon as you got it.

“Yes you can.”

“No, I can’t. This wasn’t your fault. I just…took it out on you like it was. I’m so sorry. These past few days have been rough and-” You stop, watching as he ducks the rain dripping from the front porch. “Here, come in and dry off.” You move out of the doorway to let him in. “Just until the rain stops.” You see him hesitate but walk in anyway, taking his shoes off at the door.

“Oh, hello.” A deep monotone voice practically booms from behind you, causing you to jump.

“Oh, hi dad!” You laugh nervously, “This is my frien- this is my- this is Steve…Sanders. Steve Sanders. From uh… school.” You babble, putting Steve’s coat on the rack. Your father gives him a firm, almost painful, handshake.

“Uh, nice to meet you, Sir.” He awkwardly chuckles, glancing from you to him.

“I thought you were having a meeting at the beach club tonight?” You ask, twiddling your thumbs.

“It was cancelled because of the storm.” He deadpans, crossing his arms over his argyle sweater. You swallow. No, he was supposed to be gone!

“What about the country club?”

“Rats.” You’ve gotta be kidding me.

“O-kayy.” All three of you stand in the foyer, dead silent.

Then, your mother walks in- bright eyed and happy.

“Oh, hello!” She takes off her flour covered apron, and sets it aside. “Is he a new friend from school?”

“Uh…Something like that, yeah.” You respond, trying to strategize the quickest way to escape this. Or the most efficient way to knock down the chandelier so it can fall on top of you and kill you. Whatever’s fastest.

“You should stay for dinner!” Your mom beams, yooper accent strong and prominent. “I’m making spaghetti.”

“I would actually love to stay, Mrs. Y/L/N-” Steve begins, only to be cut off by you.

“He would LOVE to stay but you see his uncle…who’s a…a priest…just…died,” you stumble. Steve shoots you a look.

“Yes, and while Uncle Rodger’s passing has shaken us all, he wouldn’t want me to grieve. He’d want me sit down and enjoy a nice dinner with my new friend from school and her lovely family.” Steve says, putting his hand over his heart and pretending to get choked up. He gives your mom the best sad look he can muster, while you give him a classic “eat shit.” look. Meanwhile, your dad has done nothing but stare daggers at him this entire time.

“Oh, sweetheart stay as long as you’d like! I made plenty of food.”

So, Steve stays. And there you both are, awkwardly sitting on identical white couches adjacent to each other. You inhale, hoping to somehow release the anxious energy you’re harboring. He takes the tv remote and flips it on, the Hartley House theme ringing through the surround sound.

“Hartley House fan?” He asks, letting the theme play through.

“Never seen it,” you confess, setting your feet on the marble and glass coffee table in front of you.

“It’s good…” he trails off, “My mom’s in it.” He didn’t normally like to reveal that information to anyone, he’d typically try to hide it if he could. But with you, he felt okay telling it. Despite being loaded and somewhat emotional, he didn’t think you were the type to go fawn over his mother. He at least trusted you with that.

“Oh, cool,” You say, eyes on the screen. Not dismissively, but not overtly excited either. You both quietly watch the T.V. for a moment, and you couldn’t help but think that Steve looks nothing like his mother. He probably just looks like his father.

“He didn’t stop talking about you today,” He mutters, “it was gross.”

“Who?”

“You know who.” No way. No way. No. Way. Maybe you should’ve called him.

You gasp dramatically, hand lightly over your mouth. “Patrick Swayze is finally answering my calls?? Cause he was just so dreamy in Ghost!”“ He chuckles and roll his eyes. You give him a bashful smile, "So, he really talked about me?”

“Nonstop. It was annoying.” He confirms, putting his feet up on the couch with a light thud. You can’t help the grin that forms on your face or the butterflies in your stomach.

“What did he say??” You pry, taking your attention away from the tv.

“What did who say?” Your mother pokes her head in through the doorway, “Dinner’s ready!”

Dinner was fairly uneventful. Painfully awkward, but uneventful. It would have been fine had it not been for your father looking like he wanted to strangle Steve 90% of the time. And your poor mother, trying to defuse the tension with small talk about anything she could think of. She was particularly thrilled about Beverly Hills’ produce tonight. Hey, all things considered, it could have been much worse. Steve behaved himself… For the most part, and the storm fizzled out, so you kicked him out the second the skies were clear.

You make your way back up to your bedroom and stare at the open phonebook. You pump yourself up, and actually dial his number this time. The ringing of the phone begins and you consider backing out and hanging up. There was an awful twist in your stomach. What were you even going to talk about? What would you- someone picks up. You hear a woman’s voice through the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hi, uh, is Brandon there?” Please be the right Walsh family…

“He is. May I ask who’s calling?”

“Uh, Y/N. From School.” There’s rustling and clanking, then rapid footsteps. A different voice comes through.

“Hello?” The butterflies came back, but with a vengeance.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” You could hear his smile through the phone and he could hear yours. You had the most ridiculous grin on your face, you’d die if he saw you right now. You both laugh nervously as you twirl the red phone cord in your fingers. Huh. Maybe you'll like Beverly Hills.

Tag list: @be-patient-be-good @fangirl-imagines @bevelyhills90210 @lilo-1988

#BH90210 #Brandon walsh x reader #Brandon walsh imagine #beverly hills 90210 #90210 #beverly hills 90210 imagine #90210 imagine #90210 x reader #Steve Sanders #Steve Sanders x reader #90210 rewrite #brenda walsh #jason priestley #ian ziering #shannem doherty #kelly taylor #jennie garth

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michelleolvido · 7 years

Text

Click. Share. Teach. Learn. Repeat.

One of my best friends works as a Social Media Manager. Yes, that is a real job. Maymay asked me to write about three things I learned about being on social media in the point of view of a teacher. She is scheduled to give a workshop to a group of teachers and she wanted to get my insights on the topic. She adds that this is her way of ‘tricking’ me to write again. This reveals one of the many reasons why we are best friends. Love you, May!

As a disclaimer, let me just say that I am not an expert on the use of social media in the classroom. The only time I specifically integrated the use of social media in my class was when I taught Introduction to Research last semester. Also, I teach in college. Adding students as friends on Facebook and followers on Instagram was a conscious choice. Given this context and my experiences with interacting with students, here are the three things I have learned about being a teacher in the age of social media.

1. You can treat your social media accounts as personal space but you are responsible for the content you share.

This is very basic but it must be said. ‘Think before you click’ applies to everyone but teachers should really be more careful with what they share since they are in a position of influence. There are students who take their teacher’s word as facts. Spreading hearsay can be detrimental not only to your reputation and integrity as a person and as a professional, it can literally cause harm to people involved. Some teachers repost fake news and worse, some actually write an essay of their reaction to something that was expressed without evidence. It is difficult to demand critical thinking from our students when we do not exercise the use of it.

I think we can go back to the reason why you are in social media and why you decided to expose your students to your influence. I have one friend who keeps two accounts because she feels much of her personal life is something she does not want her students to know of. Another friend does not add students on Facebook because she is ‘not a good example and does not plan on being one’. We laughed when she said this but I understand where she is coming from. To me, these are respectable choices.

I am not trying to step on a person’s freedom of expression but rather to encourage all teachers to be more ‘conscious’ of the position of influence they are in. For example, I rarely rant on Facebook. Not because my life is perfect and I am a saint but rather because I am aware that it does no good to anyone if I do it there. I would much rather talk to the persons involved in person or send a personal message. Ranting on social media is cathartic in so many ways. I do it… on Twitter. Where I do not add students. When work stresses me out, I choose to share about the bright side of the experience or what the challenge is teaching me instead of dwelling on the negative. The first could garner more likes and shares but THAT is not who I am or who I want to be perceived as and so I choose not to do it. We should be mindful of our choices because what we continue to do leads us to who we ultimately become.

2. Your social media account may be an extension of yourself but it is not who you are.

There are people I used to like offline and have learned to dislike online. Some just frustrate me. An example would be when a teacher who posts green jokes online or constantly uses bad words to ‘prove a point’. It is a matter of personal stand and you may or may not agree with me but I think green jokes and bad words have no place in the classroom. A teacher can say that I am a different person in the classroom and I do ‘this’ only when I am outside but your character is built by what you repeatedly do. Your most authentic self always comes out. Sometimes, I am tempted to pick a fight online. Most of the time, I just decide it is not the best way to proceed. I send a private message instead or unfollow/unfriend people altogether.

Facebook can feel like a ‘world’ in itself but I remind myself constantly that it is not all there is. Who you are there is but a fraction of who you really are. Do not lose sight of who you are, what your battles are, where the fight is truly fought and why you do what you do. I say all these things not because I have conquered this weakness but because I need this reminder, too. I am guilty of over-sharing at times. I also get caught up with trends and I have also posted things online when it would have been better if I had directed it to the person involved. I share this because I have learned that though students learn from what we post, what we actually do on social media is more powerful. I could write three lessons or five or ten but it all boils down to them: students.

3. You may start making connections online but relationships are built offline.

I decided to add students on my social media accounts because I wanted to be where they are. I strive to make my lessons feel relevant to my students and I try to present material in a language they understand. There was one school year when my students would repeatedly comment that I throw too many #hugot lines. Honestly, I speak that way long before #hugot lines became a ‘thing’. But because I saw how effectively I can get a point across when I use those lines, I used them more often in class. Intentionally. I remember one time when I wrote a talk anchored on #hugot (in my defense, it was the ‘theme’ of that training! haha) and it became one of my favorite talks to date.

Being on social media also allows me to be more accessible to students. I have done consultations for schoolwork on messenger and from time to time, I talk about life with students as well. But at the end of the day, the best conversations and the strongest of relationships are built offline. Even when I struggle in the use of their language and when my jokes fail, I think that my kids see that I make an effort to get to know them, meet them where they are and just journey with them. I think that one of the challenges of being a teacher (especially in this age of internet and social media), is making the students feel that they matter and that you are invested in their growth as people.

When you see teaching as more than just a job, I think you will learn to see that social media is just like any other medium of and for instruction. You can choose to use it. You can choose not to. We constantly say that we need to disconnect in order to connect. There is so much wisdom in that statement. But I also think we can also connect in order to connect. You should look at what Maymay does for Gawad Kalinga, Pandoo Foundation and First Harvest (to name a few). There are days when her stories save my day. I’m thinking that if I get to do what she does for at least one student, it would be worth the risk of opening up my ‘personal virtual space’ to my kids.

The possibility of being judged and misunderstood does not only happen online but also in everyday life. So I just try to think of Facebook and Instagram as an extension of my classroom and my posts a continuation of the lessons I teach. What I really hope to achieve however is that whenever I share in class what I have read online from the posts of my students, I make them feel that what they say counts. That when I ‘stalk’ them, I make them realize that they really should be more careful what it is they share online because actions will always have consequences. That when I allow them to witness a small part of my personal life, I make them remember how we are all human. That means we are imperfect and that’s okay. That we all struggle and that means that somehow, they will never be totally alone whatever the battle it is they are fighting. I am not sure if I am successful but I have I decided long ago that I will be the kind of teacher who ‘tries’.

Today, this post is my attempt to make a difference.

Today, I tried.

Your turn. :)

#buhayteacher #reflections #socialmedia

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