#i was doing an effort to participate a lot in her classes and discuss stuff and i felt like she was an adult i could really trust | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

spencersawkward · 3 years

Note

if you feel comfortable with it, I’d love a prof Spence where reader is a student and goes to office hours to initiate ~smutty goodness~ but Spencer is reluctant at first bc his job but they flirt more and eventually sleep together

me n my professor kink when i saw this: 😏 anyway yes i am quite comfortable writing about this lol. i took some ✨creative liberties✨ with your request so i'm sorry if it isn't exactly what you wanted!

summary: reader is a student in Dr. Reid’s class, but she’s been something of a poor student-- office hours are the only solution.

relationship: Fem!Reader/Professor!Spencer

content warnings: unprotected penetrative sex, fingering, rough sex, super brief hair-pulling, creampie, dirty talk, spanking, age gap, degradation-- he gets pretty dominant oops.

word count: 4.5k

masterlist

popping in a piece of gum, I make my way to the back of the hall. there are a few people here already, but it's a little early. I'm never early. in fact, I'm usually late; my other class is on the other side of campus, and getting here involves a lot of embarrassing speed-walking.

but here I am, five minutes ahead of schedule and actually in a decent seat. as I flip open my textbook and pull my laptop out of my bag to prepare to take notes, my gaze slides down to the corner of the room, where Dr. Reid is standing up with a pile of papers. he walks over to the girl in the front row, handing her the stack and gesturing for her to pass it along.

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. he's a total luddite. the first day, Dr. Reid spent about ten minutes rambling about the importance of reading from a physical book rather than online sources-- which, although I definitely agree with, means a lot more lugging around folders and organizing all the readings he gives out. if he wasn't so hot, I would have switched into another course.

and I know it's wrong to be daydreaming about my professor slamming me into a wall while he discusses the intricacies of quantum theory. the complete cliché of it is embarrassing. but still, I just can't stop thinking about him: how his fingers would feel around my throat, the smooth wooden surface of his desk against my cheek as he bends me over and pulls my panties to the side--

"glad to see you've decided to join us, today, Ms. Y/L/N." Dr. Reid's voice startles me out of my thoughts. he's standing towards the front of the room while students file in. his hands are resting in his pockets with his eyebrows pleasantly raised.

"glad to see you've noticed." I retort, too irritated with his comment to care about being polite.

a couple people look at me. even though I'm generally not on time, he tends to just glance my way when I walk in and leaves it at that. I know he doesn't like it, although I personally don't care. I hate this course.

he seems visibly surprised by my response but doesn't reply, gaze lingering on mine before he turns to speak to a student trying to get his attention. I bite back a smile. fucking asshole.

as usual, Dr. Reid writes in his thin, messy lettering on the board while wandering around the front of the room. he's quite fidgety, even though his voice doesn't betray any sort of nervousness. it's like he's naturally overactive.

every word out of his mouth is enunciated, sometimes spoken faster when he gets particularly impassioned by the subject. he's interesting to look at, too. messy curls and a nice suit, stubble that straddles the line between refinement and ruggedness.

I type quickly, but it isn't fast enough and the strange illustrations he does on the board only complicate things. I try to write them down in my notebook, but my handwriting is jagged; sometimes it's hard to read. when a student raises her hand for a clarification, I take the opportunity to catch up.

my head jerks up as soon as I'm finished and he's looking at me while he speaks. even from so many feet away, the intensity strikes me. he's gesticulating and crossing the room. I hold eye contact.

I wonder if he dates often; a couple of the girls in my row always stare at him throughout the lectures. he seems to be completely unaware of the effect he has on people. sometimes I'll see him in the hallway and he has his nose buried in a book, or a to-go cup of coffee, or both. either way, there seems to be no more room in that head of his for romance.

which, naturally, makes me curious about how he looks when he's on the edge of orgasm. if that composure is replaced with a contorted pleasure. I want to break him.

it's like he can read my thoughts, because Dr. Reid averts his gaze. my stomach twists with a strange anticipation. he avoids looking my way for the rest of the time.

towards the end of class, I start to pack my things to go. I have three papers to write, and my utter lack of interest in this is making me eager to leave. I shove my textbook into my bag the second my professor starts to make closing remarks.

"don't forget that we have a midterm in two weeks!" he says in a slightly louder voice as people start to move around. "if you have any questions, my office hours are posted on the bulletin board outside."

at this, my eyebrows rise. I forgot about the midterm. I have a study calendar set up for all my subjects, but I've purposefully been putting this one off. I'm not super into math. and it doesn't help that most of my time is spent not listening. when I am, it doesn't make sense.

as I stand up and gather my stuff, I hear someone clearing their throat a couple feet away. my head turns to see Dr. Reid leaning against his desk.

"Ms. Y/L/N, can I see you for a second?"

my heart stutters in my chest. is this about my attitude? he's never asked to see me outside of lessons before.

I frown, making my way to him with a deliberate pace. the tension in the room builds as I watch the last of his students shuffle out of the room. my head turns from the door to him; my breath catches a little in my throat at the set of his jaw. part of me hopes I get yelled at.

"I'm concerned about your participation in this class." he says. his voice isn't cruel, but it is brutally honest— which is worse. participation? I feel my fist clench at my side. my professors don't usually say anything if you aren't doing things up to their expectations; if you aren't, then they give you a bad grade. simple as that.

"is this about me being late?" I ask. he lets out a sigh before answering. he sounds disappointed.

"you're constantly tardy, and when you hand in your homework, you barely seem to have put in the effort. it's messy."

"messy?" I start to get annoyed. I'm only doing this so that I can get my degree. it's a fucking requirement. even though I'm not the biggest fan of mathematics, I still do my best and hand in my assignments on time. plus, the latest I arrive is five minutes-- it's not like I'm stumbling in halfway through the lesson.

"you've never come to office hours to ask for help or explained your lateness, which I, as your professor, would have appreciated." he scolds. honestly, I don't know what to say. my eyes narrow.

"I have my studio class on the other side of campus." I explain. "I should have emailed about that and I'm sorry, but I'm also not being lax about my work."

he goes around to the other side of his desk and glances up at me while he organizes some loose documents to pack away. he looks way too good when he's exasperated: his hands tighten around the papers, his eyebrows come together in this cute way. his tie is a little crooked, too.

"are you struggling with the content?"

"sometimes, yeah. but I can handle reaching out for help if I need it." I reply. he's pissing me off with these questions. I can see from the expression on his face that he's surprised by my reaction.

"really?" he slides some books into his messenger bag. that was definitely sarcastic; I know it was. "because it doesn't really seem like you have."

"I like to find help on my own." I shoulder my bag and cross my arms over my chest. there's no way he's gonna talk to me like that and expect me to not respond in kind.

"I'm reserving a slot on Wednesday evening for you," he looks up and holds my gaze. hazel irises that dare me to challenge him further. "I want you in office hours so that we can figure out how you're gonna catch up before the midterm."

"fine." I turn on my heel and leave. I know I'm not supposed to talk to my professor like that, or even to behave with such apprehension. but something about him makes me angry in the kind of way that settles in my stomach. I hate that he's right. I'm not going to do well on that damn test if I don't get some help.

but that doesn't mean I can't have some fun with it.

when I rush into his office on Wednesday evening, the sun is just starting to set through his window. there's a pinkish glow that smooths over Dr. Reid's desk as he glances up at me. I had to run to get here.

"you're late." he nods to the clock on the wall. I roll my eyes.

"only one minute, though. I had another class."

he sighs and folds his hands on his desk. "how are you doing today, Ms. Y/L/N?" a strangely polite question for the look on his face. he's frustrated with me.

"I'm quite well, Dr. Reid." I smile brightly, slightly excited by the anger on his face, and sit at the chair in front of his desk.

"I didn't know you were interested in art." he says simply. I'm confused for a moment before I remember that I told him that the course before his is a studio lesson.

"I didn't know you cared."

"do you make a habit of that?" he quirks an eyebrow.

"of what?" my expression is saccharine.

"being rude to people who control your grades."

"unless you're considering being unethical in your practices and allowing your personal opinion of me to influence my grade, then no." I counter. he's silent for a moment, taking in my words like they've left a mark on him.

"well, you'd most likely fail if I asked you to leave my office hours right now. whose fault would that be?" he fidgets with his hands and leans forward just a bit, his voice dropping to a lower tone. I bite back a smile.

"you wouldn't."

"and why is that?" he baits.

"because you're not a shitty professor, Dr. Reid," I lean back in my chair and cross my legs. "as angry as you are, you wouldn't be able to live with yourself if you kicked me— a struggling student— out of here for giving you a little attitude."

"a little attitude?" he scoffs. "you've spent the whole semester completely ambivalent."

"not completely." I shrug.

"Y/N, you draw all over your tests and leave at least one problem half-finished every time. you obviously aren't learning." he chuckles mirthlessly. I concede this point; I like to doodle when I'm bored. and there's absolutely nothing more boring to me than numbers.

"okay," I sit up and rest my elbows on the edge of his desk, staring at him. "then teach me."

Dr. Reid holds my gaze for a long moment. we're suspended, it seems, as his lips part and he finds himself speechless. the way I said the words obviously has another layer to it-- he just has to decide whether or not to take the bait.

"what are you struggling with?" he clears his throat and sits up a bit straighter in his seat. that answers my question, I guess. I poke my tongue between my teeth gently, but then pull out my notebook and flip it to a page with some problems outlined on it.

"these." I toss the thing onto his side and he begins to run through the assignment. I watch him pick up a pen and start to explain the steps, slipping into his usual educational tone. his shoulders relax a little as he writes.

I can't see right from the angle I'm at, so I stand and come around onto his side. I hear him pause his speaking for a moment at my proximity, but he doesn't move away.

"does that make sense?" he asks me once he's finished running through the first problem. he basically did all the work. the professor's head turns to gauge my reaction to the explanation, but his eye line is right at the hem of my skirt-- which is already pretty short. for all his attempts to be subtle, he gulps and looks up at me.

"mostly." I brush a piece of hair behind my ear and pretend to scratch at a spot on my upper thigh, dragging the edge of my skirt with it until he can see the smooth skin beneath, practically begging for his touch. "can I ask you a question?"

"sure." he keeps his eyes almost too focused on mine. I try to hide the smile tugging at my lips. now or never, I guess.

"what's your policy on professor/student relationships?"

"my-- my what?" this time, he's audibly scattered when he turns to me. his eyes are wide, dark. even he can't hide his feelings.

"you know," I run my fingertips over the tweed shoulder of his jacket. I can sense the tension beneath his clothes. "like, your policy on fucking a student."

"I--" his cheeks turn pink. he's flustered, albeit not rejecting my touch. "I've never had to think about it before."

"hmm," I look off to the side as if considering this point. his chair is fully turned to face me now, and I'm standing in front of him, almost completely his for the taking. all he has to do is close the gap. "well, what are you thinking about it right now?"

"it's wrong." he stumbles over the words.

"why?"

"well, I mean, you're a student--"

"for a semester that's almost over." I cut him off. he opens and closes his mouth. I take a deep breath, toying with the hem of my skirt. "I know you've been looking at me during class."

"w-what?"

"you're pretty good at hiding it, but you call on me a lot and you get all messed up when I hold eye contact too long during lectures." I say.

he looks down and back up apologetically. he's just sitting there, lap wide open. so I do what any sane girl in my position would do: I climb into it, straddling him and resting my arms around his neck. he sucks in a breath.

"you pretend I'm such a pain," I lean down by his ear, my core drawing over his pants. he tenses as I speak. "but you like that I'm your little problem."

"Y/N..." he trails off, but his hips are bucking up into mine.

"see?" I look between our bodies at his movements, then at him. I smirk as I look into those lust-darkened eyes. after a moment of him not speaking, I straighten. "look, I'll leave you alone if it really bothers you--"

as I start to get off his lap, he grabs me and pulls me back down. the force hits my center at just the right angle and I let out a slight mewl. he hears the sound and before I can register the pleasure, he grabs my face and yanks me closer to kiss him.

god, he feels so good. I rock my hips against his while our lips pass over each other hungrily. so much tension built up over the past few months, so many thoughts I've had of him, now coming to fruition. it's amazing.

"not so 'wrong' now, is it?" I chuckle against his mouth.

"shut up." he orders. one moment of broken contact to slide my top over my head and throw it on the floor.

I sigh as he starts to kiss across my jaw and down my throat. "I like when you talk like that, Dr. Reid."

one hand grips my hips tighter and he releases a groan against my skin.

"is that why you're such a fucking brat in my class?" he bites my collarbone and I moan. "because you want me to put you in your place?"

"mhmm." I hum. his fingertips move under my skirt, sliding up my thighs and toying with the waistband of my panties. he teases me by grazing my slit over the fabric, inhaling sharply at the wet patch.

"sitting in the back of my room, fucking dripping..." he mumbles to himself as he starts to rub me.

"touch me." I breathe out, trying to gain the friction that I need.

"not if you're gonna be a brat." he removes his hand and I let out a frustrated noise as I try to find the pressure I need elsewhere by grinding down on him. he grunts at the way I pant into his mouth, trying to kiss him with every chance I get. his lips are so smooth and sweet against mine. there's something affectionate about it even in its ferocity.

"I'll be good." I practically beg.

"that's what I thought." he slides his tongue over his bottom lip as he watches me whimper on top of him.

"come on, Spencer..." I use the name for the first time and he grabs my face in his hand, squeezing my cheeks.

"not my name, sweetheart." he stares into my eyes expectantly and I smirk.

"you're fucked up, doctor."

"so are you."

after he says that, he lifts me off his lap and stands up, pushing between my shoulder blades until my face is pressed onto the desk. I let out a needy whine, wiggle my ass back in hopes of finding his crotch, but he's not willing to give me that, yet.

instead, he gently touches my skirt, flipping it up so that he can see my ass. immediately, he starts to knead it. my palms are pressed flat against the desk with anticipation, silently thankful that my panties are still on. I think I'd be dripping down my thighs if they weren't.

"are you gonna be more respectful?" his voice is low, one hand tracing over my back. I shake.

"mhmm."

"I won't spank you if you don't use your words, sweetheart."

"yes." I choke out, no longer wanting to give any sort of resistance. I had no idea there was this side of him, and I love it.

he loves it too, apparently, because his hand comes down sharply on my ass. I yelp at the contact and he runs his fingers over the point of impact, rubbing the flesh gently.

"too hard, baby?" he checks.

"harder." I beg. I can't see his face, but I can sense his smile as if it's my own. his palm hits me again, and I gasp.

"you like being punished?"

"yes." strangled and desperate.

he slips his finger beneath the fabric of my panties, collecting my essence and letting out a quiet moan when he feels me. I push my hips against his fingers, partly expecting him to remove all the pressure, but he doesn't bother waiting.

he slips his index inside and I gasp. starts to push in and out, his silence proving his arousal. I can practically feel his eyes on me. the pace increases a bit and he slides in his middle finger. I buck against the desk.

"oh fuck!" I cry out as he starts to go faster. he curls them against my walls and I arch my back.

"two fingers and you're already breaking?" Spencer chuckles as he moves inside me. he keeps one hand on my ass while he does it, starting to finger me at a ridiculous speed while I pant and moan and cry.

"I--" I gulp down air. "I need you in it."

he bends down by my ear, never breaking his rhythm. my legs are shaking from the force. "you need my cock?"

"yes," I feel myself closing in around him. "god, yes."

"you're lucky I wanna fuck you so bad." he mutters. I grin as I hear the clink of his belt coming undone, the sliding through the belt loops, the sound of him stripping down to nothing. I can feel my excitement on the inside of my thighs, spread around by his reckless fingers as he removes my panties and skirt.

he grinds himself against my pussy, coating himself in me, while he releases low, longing moans. I suck in a breath when the head pushes in, every inch pushing me open a little more. I don't have the ability to form words, so I bite my lip and grip onto the edge of the desk until my knuckles turn white.

his breath stops for a moment before he groans.

"so ready for me."

he's not even all the way in, and he has to pause to let me adjust. when he taps the inside of my thigh for me to part them more, I do it quickly and beg him to fill me up. I can barely take the pressure between my hips, but it burns in an inviting way.

"keep going." I direct him. he runs his hands over the curve of my waist and starts to thrust into me at a rate that leaves me panting. it's not too fast or slow, just impatient and needy. every sound that spills from his lips turns me on more.

"where'd the attitude go, huh?" he digs his hips into mine. his cock hits my cervix and I squeak against the wood, but he holds my back down. I don't even try to argue with him, too overcome with the pleasure that's coursing through my limbs. he starts to build up his speed. "don't have much to say when you're getting fucked?"

"Dr. Reid--" I moan.

he plows into me so hard, the desk shifts on the floor and he grabs my ass with both hands.

"take it, baby. fucking take it."

I get up on my elbows to look behind me, just to glimpse how he looks as he gets closer. his curls have fallen more in his face, and his shirt is gone. I want to touch him desperately, to feel the lovely skin of his torso and arms and everything else, but he keeps me down for the most part. all I get is the sight of his mouth open and his hips moving quickly against mine.

"look at me, there you go." he grabs my face and holds me there, our eyes locked. mine are welling at the sheer overwhelming pleasure inside, but his are dark and intense. they search mine for something I can only hope to offer.

"that feels so good, Dr. Reid." I pant. he bites his lip as he watches my mouth hanging open in lecherous shock.

"I bet it does," he explores my body. "coming in here, hoping I fuck you like you deserve. you're lucky I'm going easy on you."

"thank you." I whine.

"you might need some extra lessons, yeah?" he grunts out, moving into me with a bruising force.

"yes, please." I whisper. my voice is practically gone at this point, my mind entirely focused on the knot building in my stomach.

"what was that, baby?" he pulls my hair gently.

"yes— fuck— yes, please, Dr. Reid."

"what a beautiful girl." he smirks. I whimper when he runs his fingernails down my ribcage. I can feel it coming from the way he starts to move tumultuously, every thrust pushing harder and seeking more release. it's fervent, how he takes me and grips my hips like the force itself will push him over the edge.

"I'm so close..." I breathe out as I try for as much friction as I can.

"show me," he drops down so his stomach is flush to my back. "show me how you cum, Y/N."

the way he says my name-- husky and warm and full of lust-- causes me to snap. I cry out as he reaches around to clamp a hand around my mouth, climaxing and pulsing around his dick as I drop down against the surface again. I want him to finish inside, so I do my best to keep him here. and his thrusts are getting more staccato as he chases the sensation my walls create.

"can I fill you, angel?" he asks. he's breathing right by my ear, and the feeling is sending shivers down my spine. I love how his weight feels.

"yes." I moan and he slides his fingers into my mouth. I suck on them while he orgasms, jerking into my pussy and letting out unholy sounds of ecstasy. he says unintelligible things in the throes of his orgasm. pounds into me until I'm sure I won't be able to walk tomorrow.

"jesus christ, Y/N." he slows to a stop. when he pulls his cock out of me, the absence makes me whine. I miss his body already.

"oh my god." I clench my hands into fists as I try to catch my breath. I'm still bent over the desk as though I've been completely sapped of all my energy. I suppose I have. he doesn't touch me for a moment in the spirit of letting me recover from the small shudders still running over my skin.

"that was great." he says after we've both had time to fill our lungs. I push myself onto my elbows again.

"correct." I grin and straighten up more until I'm standing. he stares at me, at the cum now dripping down my legs, entranced.

"let me get you something to clean up." he snaps out of it a little. I can't stop looking at him, either, in love with the way he moves and the way he breathes after exerting himself on my body.

"come here." I bite my lip. for some reason, despite what we just did, this is scarier than everything else. he steps closer and I reach up, kiss him softly. part of me worries that he'll pull away and be terrified. maybe that he'll tell me that I've read too much into this.

he's much gentler than before. our first kiss was full of need and primal desire, but this is more affectionate. I remove myself from his embrace.

"okay, you can go now." I giggle. his fingertips linger on my waist and he smiles. I push his shoulder. "I literally have your cum all over me-- go."

"fine." he starts to put his clothes on.

"does this mean I get an A?" I joke. Spencer shakes his head.

"nice try. when we're done cleaning you up, we're gonna sit down and figure this out."

I let out a whine, and he kisses my cheek before looking me in the eyes. "it'll be fun. I promise."

"math is not fun."

"I can't believe I like a girl who doesn't enjoy such a beautiful subject." he rolls his eyes and I giggle. he's perfect.

#spencer reid #spencer reid one shot #dr. reid #criminal minds #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #professor reid

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yukiwrites · 3 years

Text

Behavior, Making the Difference

Thank you for the support as always, @xpegasusuniverse! This one was so fun to write, I hope you like it! I love exploring all of these different interactions!

Summary: Ricken, Lysithea and Hayato banded together due to their similar circumstances in their home world. They were now good classmates, who shared the same woes even in another world like Askr: why are they being looked down on, just because they were young?

Commission info HERE and HERE!

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The amount of Heroes being summoned in Askr grew day by day. The castle alloted to house the Order of Heroes had enough space for them all, yes, but there were some areas that a few groups of like-minded Heroes claimed for themselves.

For example, the western training grounds was now CHOP’s exclusive meeting spot. The eastern forest? Home to Heroes who would rather stay away from people to focus on calming their raging power. There was also a meadow past the southern garden, almost touching the outer wall, where the dragon-shifters liked to gather.

In the same manner, the central library was used as a classroom and gathering spot for the mages. It was big enough that classes could be taken on the second floor while others could quietly do their personal research on the first floor without one being a disturbance to the other.

Every other day, more experienced mages ministered classes on the second floor in favor of the apprentice mages. Merric’s was a particularly popular class due to how Young Merric also participated and asked many questions to his older self, which would extend the lecture for hours upon hours.

After class had finally ended, many of the students had stiff necks and sore legs for sitting up for so long. Be that as it may, one of the most eager students, Ricken, observed how Merric and his younger version interacted. On top of that, he noticed how younger Merric received different treatment whenever he went despite being the very same person who was just at the helm of the class.

Sure, the years of experience made a whole lot of difference, but younger Merric was in no way lacking in comparison to any other mage!

“Maybe it’s just ‘cause Merric’s tall.” Ricken grumbled to his deskmates, Lysithea and Hayato, as he looked up to his intentionally large hat.

Lysithea revised her notes calmly, resting her head on one hand. “At this point in time, young Merric has much more experience than Professor Merric had when he was that age. He’ll grow into a much stronger mage if he keeps up with this hunger for knowledge.”

Hayato nodded beside Lysithea, yawning loudly while he stretched his stiff muscles. “I do not know if it was due to the special summoning or if something different happened in his home world, but this young Merric has outstanding innate magical energy. It’s even larger than Professor Merric’s.”

“See? That’s what I’m saying. He’s much stronger than a lot of the adults, but he’s still treated like he’s not that capable because he’s young. They’re treating him like a little kid in favor of his older self!” Ricken protested with puffy cheeks.

“I do understand the hierarchy that comes with the territory of being a mage, so it’s not like I agree completely with you,” Lysithea pinched in, lifting her gaze to the red-haired young boy, “but I don’t disagree completely, either. They could treat him with the deserved respect of someone who holds that much power.”

“Though the man himself doesn’t seem to mind, unfortunately.” Hayato sat back down after cracking his neck a few times. “He sucks it all up, as though he himself feels unworthy of respect.”

“I suppose seeing how much you’ve grown can do that to people,” Lysithea mused, then mumbled so only herself could hear, “I’d be jealous if I wasn’t in such a hurry.”

Ricken’s cheeks only inflated more and more. Seeing people just like him, full of potential and stacking on accomplishments, being treated as less than they deserved made his blood boil. It reminded him of the constant ‘are-you-alright’s and ‘someone-your-age-should-rest-now’s he received on a daily basis.

“He shouldn’t be treated that way!” Ricken exclaimed, raising both fists up. “It’s the same everywhere! Back home, Chrom and everybody else treated me like a little, helpless kid and never saw how much I could do.”

Hayato crossed his arms, bobbing his head to the sides. “Just blow something in their vicinity; that will shut them up.”

“But I don’t want them to fear me! I want them to respect me! Besides, that’d probably just make them tell me I’m still too reckless for the battlefield.” Ricken’s shoulders dropped as he saw the exact scene being played in his mind, word by word.

“... Ah, you’re part of a specialized task force, right?” Hayato momentarily forgot that although the other two shared the same amount of potential and suffered from being berated by their ages, they weren’t the heirs of their tribes. He could get away with a lot of stuff because the heir was usually the strongest one, but that wasn’t the case with Ricken, who was simply one soldier amidst many.

Ricken sat back down, deflated. “Yeah, and there’s this other boy who got in after I did but no one treats him like they treat me! He’s only older than me by a few months, but everyone already sees him as a man and they never hold him back on doing stuff.”

Lysithea immediately remembered Petra, the princess of another country who studied with her under Byleth. They were both the SAME age, but no one treated Petra like a little kid. “... Is it the height?” She mumbled, though both of them heard it loud and clear.

… Oh.

It was the height.

Ricken took off his hat, then glanced up as though to remember how tall Donnel was compared to him.

… After a moment, he realized Donny was at least a head taller than himself.

“This is ridiculous!” However, Hayato was the one who slammed the table. He, too, was conscious of his height. “Bring it on, I’ll zap him with my magic and we’ll see-”

“Wait, wait, wait! I don’t wanna hurt my allies!” Ricken pulled on Hayato’s sleeve. “Besides, he’s not a mage, he’s- uh, I don’t know what he does exactly, but he’s a villager. Everyone trains with him and gives him tips and puts him on the frontlines without question… It’s unfair! I can hold my own, too!”

“That does seem like special treatment,” Lysithea nodded. “It’s unfair, but that only means that you have to overwhelm everyone with your effort. Study a lot and show them how good you can be to shut them all up.”

“Yeah... It’s my dream to be able to fight side-by-side with Chrom, but it’s not something for the far future. I can do it NOW, but they just don’t acknowledge me! It’s driving me nuts.”

Before the other two could reply, the sound of steps going up the stairs to the second floor interrupted them, which was unusual. It was an unspoken rule to use sound-muffling magic while walking around the library; not to mention that the second floor was commonly used for classes, so there shouldn’t be anyone going up at that moment, as the next class would only happen after dinner.

“C’monnn, up we go, Donny!” A familiar, peppy voice echoed. Soon, the blonde pigtails could be seen before the princess’ body: It was Lissa, Chrom’s sister and princess of Ylisse.

“W-wait, wait, Miss Lissa! I reckon we shouldn’ta be ‘ere now! Aren’t them egghead folks studyin’?” Being pulled by Lissa, Donnel held the pot on his head to hide his face, whispering in an attempt to be quiet.

“Nope, class was over a while ago, so now it’s Professor Lissa time! Take your seat, Donny, and let your big sister here teach you stuff!” She pulled out a monocle from her sleeve and a presentation stick from the other, pointing at the blank blackboard. “Now, todaaay we’ll learn about… Cloud formations!”

Apologetic, Donnel glanced around as he scratched the back of his neck, meeting Ricken’s, Hayato’s and Lysithea’s eyes as he sat down. He bowed to them before turning back to Lissa’s long winded explanation about Stratus clouds.

Lysithea’s expression turned cold as her optimal studying space had been breached. “Aren’t they from your world, Ricken? Don’t they know how this is a place of learning and not of fooling around?”

“Ah, um, yeah. He’s the boy I was talking about, too, but…”

“You said people don’t treat him like a kid, though? But look, even that young princess is making sure to even call him ‘little brother’...” Hayato commented, glancing between Ricken and the other two.

“I’m surprised, too. I only see people praising him and telling him to go to the frontlines more often. Princess Lissa can be annoy-erm, difficult to deal with, especially if you’re younger than her…” Ricken spoke with a jaded voice, as though he had experienced all of that first hand (he did). “I didn’t know Donny also went through that.”

Hayato cracked his fingers. “He doesn’t seem to be much older, just like you said.”

“Yup, I can only imagine they treat him differently because he wields a weapon, not magic. They might think I’m weaker than others just ‘cause I don’t have muscl-”

“That’s ridiculous.” Lysithea interrupted. “Mages are one of the most terrifying pieces of the battlefield. No one has any right to look down on a mage just because they’re more fragile than their weaponized peers.”

As both boys nodded, Ricken clutched his hands. “Yeah, but that’s the only conclusion I can come to, honestly. What IS the difference between us if not that? We’re basically the same age! I refuse to believe it’s because I’m- I… I’m s-shorter than him!”

As the three of them discussed, Donnel raised his hand to ask Lissa a question. “But ‘scuse me, ma’am, it’s the Nimbus kinda cloud tha’s the rainy one! Folks called ‘em that ‘cause no matter how fast you saw ‘em, they’d catch up with ya and wet all your laundry, that it would!”

“Weh? What? No! It’s the Cumulus one, I’m sure of it!” Lissa was bewildered for a moment before stomping her foot stubbornly. “I’m the older one here, so I know best, okay?”

Donnel scratched his head awkwardly. “B-b-buh… But the Cumulus kinda cloud’s the one’s looks likea’ tree, ain’t it? Mighty tasty-looking too, like a pretty treat I saw in one offa those fancy towns we gon ‘bout.”

“Nghhh!” Lissa shook with embarrassment and mortification. That wasn’t the first NOR the second time Donnel corrected her during her ‘classes’. She was the older sister here, darn it all!

In between the three mages, the princess and the villager boy, none of them could truly fathom the reason why people treated Donnel differently, despite their close ages. In other circumstances, perhaps, Lissa would be sitting at the table alongside Ricken, Hayato and Lysithea. However, since that was not the case, the group was fated to observe the duo.

If they had just a little more self-awareness, they might have realized that the simple and obvious reason was only one’s behavior and humility.

But perhaps, they were all still too young to realize...

#fire emblem heroes #lysithea fire emblem #ricken fire emblem #hayato fire emblem #donnel fire emblem #my writings #feh #yuki's commissions

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razorblade180 · 3 years

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Twin Snowflakes 26: Preparation

[part 2 of 2]

Another day, another classroom bell. As far as Monday’s go, today was pretty harmless for Summer. Classes went by fast, Veronica only nagged her about what to eat for lunch, and P.E. was used for tournament announcements so she didn’t have to change. In a few minutes she’ll be able to walk out of the student council meeting and go home to escape-

“We’re all staying after school today, all of us.” Eliza said, filing papers.

Summer planted her head on the table. “Why do you hate me!? I’m nothing but kind to you.” She whined.

“Stop crying! Did you expect to go into the tournament performance cold turkey? This isn’t one of your concerts. Multiple things need to work at once. Which is why Harriet was kind enough to keep a platform up to act as a stage in the gym. You and your brother will have the band’s support.

Nick’s face turned to terror. He could see Summer’s face begin to get excited. “Summer, I know that look. Please remember that neither the band nor I are as skilled as you. Don’t go full dictator on us.”

She could only laugh and smile energetically. “That won’t be a problem if you hit the notes.”

“Not what I wanted to hear, Summer!”

Veronica got up from the table and packed her things. “You all have fun. I’m gonna get started on that outfit. The materials should be at your house by now.”

“Not so fast.” Eliza interjected, “Did you forget that you’re filling in on the cheer team? Their practice starts in fifteen minutes.”

“B-But my fabrics!” She gasped.

Eliza folded her arms confidently. “Sorry, tough luck. Harriet saw your moves and she gets what she wants. If only Amber didn’t twist her leg.”

Nick let out a snicker before hiding his smile from Veronica. Karma is a cruel mistress.

“I myself will oversee everything as best as I can while leading my own rehearsal. Don’t think twice to come find me, or the President, who should really be the one leading this meeting.”

“Nah you’re on a roll.”He smiled.

She gave him a glare before continuing. “Anyways, I also need somebody to let Valerie know the water heater is screwed up again and also that she should at least help with hauling supplies to Amity Arena; since she so rudely skipped this meeting.”

All of the council and other student body members turned to Nick instinctively. It was warranted but man did it blow. Summer glady stood up to take the bullet.

“I will tell her everything she needs to know, after rehearsals.”

“Works for me. Let’s move people! Time is ticking.” Eliza gathered her belongings and went out the door with the rest of the staff. Summer and Veronica gave him a nudge as they walked by. “You two still have enough time to do the outfit?”

“I fixed your sister’s uniforms in no time at all. I already have all her measurements I need so the annoying part is over.”

“What she said.” Summer added. “At this point I guess I’m being moved to wherever I’m supposed to be. Eugh, after school, even the name hurts my throat.”

“Think of it like this. We get to spend all day with Eliza!” Nick yelled out the door cheekily.

“I will answer none of your questions!” She yelled back, knowing she basically has to spend the entire day around Nick. She hadn’t told him yet but she was going to accept his offer. Her curiosity about his plan was too strong. The tournament was quickly approaching. Every step forward counts. Time to kick things into high gear.

Nick found the strength to leave the table and face judgment. “Alright, let’s get this pain over with.”

“Quit exaggerating! I will be a humble singing instructor.”

xxxxx

“COME ON NICK! YOU CALLED THAT A HARMONY!?” Summer was not humble, or quiet for that matter. “I know you can do better!”

Nick endured the criticism as he sipped his water. He was prepared for this but obviously the band wasn’t. Summer had everyone in their group scared stiff and onlookers watching in awe. This might be the first time they’ve heard her speak in school, let alone emote.

Her fiery nature was on full display and it’s intensity was higher than her ponytail. Free from uniform constraints, she wore compression tights and a thin long sleeved shirt that hugged her frame. Summer looked more sporty right now than she has in her entire school life.

The many eyes on the twins' practice didn’t seem to bother her. “Let’s take it from the top.” She grabbed her guitar and began to play immediately. A quick glare to the drummer snapped him out of his trance and got him to play, making the rest fall in line. Live practice was never a thing she did often. People ceased the opportunity all around the gym to watch magic be created before their ears.

Some legends are told, some turn to dust or to gold.

But you will remember me~

Remember me for centuries~

She nodded to Nick and he gripped his mic.

And just one mistake... is all it will take.

We’ll go down in history~

Their breathing synced up.

REMEMBER ME FOR CENTURIES~

Summer raised her fist, silencing the band. The performer turned towards her brother and band. A fraction of a smile crept onto her face. “Better. Not perfect, but much better.” She took a sip of water. “Not to be tyrant-”

“Yet here we are.” Nick said, earning a few laughs from the band and a glare from his sis. “What!? I’m boosting morale!”

“I know. It’s the only reason I’m not chewing your head off. Here I was about to compliment you too.”

“The biggest compliment you can give me is letting us finish the song completely. We’ve only gone about a fourth through it. Everyone knows this song.”

“Anybody can know a song but few feel it. I know you know this. The crowd at the tournament is gonna want hype and they’ll most likely sing along. Our job is to cultivate it to its peak. We are the opening of the event. I picked this song for a reason. If we come out firing on all cylinders then I know we can ride the wave through the whole song! Let me feel your hype, your energy!”

Nick pursed his lips. “If you want energy, then you let these guys have fun! Ice breaker time!” Nick spun around and pointed to the band. “Give me a funky beat!”

The members looked at one another, shrugging before kicking in a fun, funky classic; Billie Jean!

Nick let out the biggest “Yeah~” then started moonwalking around Summer. “Come on Summer, you can’t resist the beat!”

“Really? Of all the songs you think I’m just gonna-” She kicked her leg out and then twirled to the microphone.

She was more like a beauty queen from a movie scene…!

Nick hopped with joy before chiming in as the band jammed out. Eliza watched the two from off stage with her color guard troop in disbelief, joined by Veronica seconds later in her cheerleader uniform. Eliza waved her hand to her group. “Guys, take ten. I guess it’s break time.”

“Those two seem to be having a ball. They always like this with council stuff?”

“Hardly. It’s the only reason why I’m not yelling at them right now. Can’t remember the last time they looked happy to participate. They can laugh their lungs out as long as the work gets done. Might motivate the others. Anyways, how are you holding up?”

“Oh you know, as much as a newbie could be in this situation.” Veronica shook her pom-poms for dramatic effect. “Feels nice to do something like this again though. It’s like wearing an old glove.”

“History with cheerleading?”

“Gymnastics, my ribbon work doesn’t stop with a needle. That was some time ago but I digress.”

“I see. Well...you move like a pro.” Eliza said, a little stuttery. She played with her hands a bit while focusing on the twins.

Her elevated heart rate rang like a bell while her movements reminded Veronica of herself whenever she first met Coco Axel. “So...a little birdy told me I got a fan of my work here? Got any clue who?” She teased, enjoying Eliza's jump a little. Poor girl's cheeks went red.

Eliza felt a crushing betrayal. “Which twin opened their big mouth?”

“Is the ‘who’ that important?”

“Ah so it’s both?”

Veronica tucked her lips in. “Uhhh I won’t confirm or deny that. To think I’d have a fan all the way up in Atlas?”

“Please, we don’t have to discuss .”

“Why not? No reason to hide it. I’m honestly flattered by it. Civil rights movements don’t attract the right kind of like-minded individuals typically. Then there’s the obvious regional differences.”

“Huh? Regional differences?” Eliza tilted her head. “Have faunus here been giving you a hard time?”

“No, but that’s because I’m making zero effort to approach them. Faunus here as a whole are treated crueler than other places. An outsider like me coming in and trying to ‘relate’ never goes over smoothly.”

Eliza was surprised. She had never heard of that before. “Oh, I guess I was being a bit presumptuous. Apologies.”

“No it’s fine. It’s just one of those annoying little things. A lot of the preach about wanting a voice and equality but sing a different tune when those voices start speaking because they aren’t the ones those people had in their heads. Sigh, we faunus are fickle creatures.”

“Boy, sounds like you hate your job?”

Veronica laughed, “Haha! I wouldn’t go that far. Maybe it’s my unique circumstance but as far as my personal beliefs go, Faunus and Humans are basically the same. They both hate and judge others far too viciously due to bias. I may advocate for our rights, but I’m not above calling ourselves out. It’s probably why the elders especially don’t care for my efforts.”

Veronica turned to Eliza and smiled. “Sorry, rambled for a bit there. Hope I’m ruining your hero perception of me. That is if I am a hero to you?”

“No. Wait! I mean it’s not ruined! You’re definitely inspiring to me. So much in fact that I got a cool magazine cover of you!” It took a minute, but Eliza’s brain registered what she had just said. “I…why did I tell you that?” Eliza facepalmed.

Vee was in shock. Her jaw slowly fell open. “Wow, you are a total fangirl right now. I didn’t think you could look embarrassed. Ha, you’re adorable blushing!”

“Please don’t talk about it…”

“Can I see the magazine cover? I’ll be honest. I rarely pay attention to those puff pieces. My mom handles all that.”

“Really?” Eliza patted her pockets before pulling out her scroll. “It’s from your rally in Vale.”

Veronica had a peek. “Oh I remember this!” The picture was from a year ago. Vale’s rally was pretty huge and loud. The photo was taken right when she had stood proudly on top of a car with a megaphone, protesters following her to city hall. “Not to toot my own horn but look so cool in this.”

“It’s surprising you’ve never seen it.”

“My eyes are usually glued to my sketchbook or a threaded needle. If I’m looking at myself then it’s in the mirror to see how fabric falls onto me or someone else. Speaking of clothes, maybe I can make you an outfit? First one is free. Just wear it to an event; tell your friends about it.”

Eliza lit up, but then immediately started to cringe. “An event is no problem. However...uhhh, yeah, rain check in the whole friend part. A social butterfly, I am not. Don’t have friends.”

“Uh Nick and Summer?”

“Gross.”

Veronica could barely stop herself from laughing out loud. The speed in which Eliza answered was swift to say the least. “Wow, and I thought the twin’s aunt was blunt? Are you sure that message is clear to them, because I’m positive they think you’re a friend.”

“I’m friendly, but not a friend.”

“Do you have their number?”

“Yes.”

“Sad to say you’re their friend. Don’t fight it.”

“What!? That’s not how- what!? From what I understand you and Summer aren’t friends, but I’m positive you have her number.”

Veronica nodded. “Yeah, but that’s necessary for multiple reasons. Besides, we actively shit talk one another. I reckon you don’t. I’m not saying you three are tightly knit. Just that you’re close enough.”

Eliza folded her arms and huffed. “I suppose so. That’s...annoying.”

“Look on the bright side.” Veronica grabbed Eliza’s scroll to put her number in. “Now you aren’t alone. We can complain about their antics together.”

The grin Veronica gave Eliza made her Eliza sheepish. The abrasive girl took her scroll back. “That...sounds nice.” She laughed under her breath.

Veronica couldn’t stop examining Eliza. This girl was all over the place! It was a little funny, awkward, and yet flattering. “Is this how the twins feel meeting fans?” The young lady could get used to this.

“Your last name is Marigold right? I’m so used to such a fierce expression that seeing you like this feels a bit unusual.”

“Used to? I take it you’ve spoken to my aunt then?” Eliza lit up.

“Not really. She’s been at events my mom dragged me to before. Didn’t speak with her directly but she looked pretty interesting. Her and my mom worked together before. You both and your father have some strong genes. I bet the mom must be jealous.”

“I...doubt it.” Eliza said, her tone drifting. The smile on her face faded back to neutrality. A silent breath escaped her lips while her eyes gazed into distance. Her change in attitude didn’t go unnoticed. Veronica’s ears fell watching her.

“Shit, did I...bring up something touchy?”

“It’s okay, honestly. I just wouldn’t know how my mom feels since...I’ve never had one.”

“Oh. I had no idea. Do you wanna talk about it or…?”

“Not really. It’s really not that big of a deal. You just caught me off guard since I’m used to people knowing that part of my life.” Eliza raised both her hands and gave her face a light slap to get out of her funk. Moping about nothing is pointless. Right now she was talking to Veronica, a person she admires! This was supposed to be exciting! “Phew! That’s better. Let’s change the subject. I don’t know much when it comes to fashion, but I have read about some of your involvement in contests.”

For a moment it felt like Veronica’s body had been hit by a truck. The muscles in her body constricted at once and her stomach felt queasy. “Have you now?”

“Just a little bit. It came up from time to time when I learned about your work with your mother. I gotta say your outfits definitely have your personality. More so than some of your contestants.”

“Heh, that’s not what judges think.” Vee uttered. “Not a first place prize to my name.”

“That may be true but that doesn’t make your designs less interesting in my opinion, but I know how you feel. It stings entering contests and sometimes not even making it to the end. Still, I really thought one dress in particular had it in the bag but…” Eliza silenced herself suddenly. She had forgotten the topic of this particular contest may not be light at all. “You...got disqualified?” She finished, cringing at her own stupidity.

“Yep. I got disqualified. No medal at all for that one.”

The air felt dead. Eliza clicked her tongue. “I had forgotten that part. The article never said why though, so it stuck out to me. If..if you don’t mind-”

“I actually do, a lot.” Veronica’s sharp response made Eliza jump a little. A few people passing by took notice of the aggressive tone, making Veronica mentally kick herself. “Shit, that wasn’t supposed to be so...I’m touchy about that day.”

Eliza waved off the comment like she was the one in the wrong. “It’s fine! I should’ve known better.”

“I guess we’re both even now huh?”

“Even!? I wasn’t trying to get back at-”

“Haha, relax before your heart explodes. It was just a tease.”

Eliza’s for got red. “Oh...of course.”

“You weren’t kidding about not having friends. I thought I was bad at small talk.”

Eliza held her head down. “I’m like a dumpster fire…”

“Ha, I can see that. I guess I’m fortunate to do speeches often. Easily the savior of my social skills. My parents are great but I wouldn’t say they aren’t the most elegant people in conversations. At least not ones that aren’t in front of a camera where they have to be. In a regular conversation they are as uncoordinated as they come.”

“I can see that. Yang’s sister does live here after all. She definitely has her own way of holding a conversation.”

“Pfft, that’s one way to put it. Just shake it off. We’re all kinda tone dead I guess.” Veronica laughed. This was fun. This was actually fun. Talking casually, who would’ve thought? She grabbed her water bottle to drink.

Eliza was also having a pleasant time. She was running low on conversation starters though. There had to be something that shouldn’t go horribly wrong. That’s when it came to her…

“So your head over heels for Nick right?”

Water sprayed out of Veronica’s mouth. How did each question keep getting her!? It shouldn’t even have been that bad yet here she was, choking over the most basic thing that everyone knew! Normally she hated being touched but feeling Eliza pat her back was gladly welcomed.

If Eliza didn’t feel bad before, then she definitely did now. “I am so sorry!” her voice was so spastic it would make Summer look calm. “I told you I’m terrible at this!”

“No, agh, no… this one is me!” Veronica coughed. “Damn, that really hurt my chest. It’s like the entire gulp went down the wrong pipe!” A few more coughs and another sip of water cured the promise. Veronica rubbed her chest and tearfully looked at Eliza. “Yeah I’m into him. Why do you ask?” Her desire to act like she didn’t nearly die was strong. “Wait, don’t tell me you like him too!?”

Water wasn't the only thing that was gonna be on the floor with questions like that. Eliza made a face that looked like she may have gagged out of spite. “Ugh, not a chance.” She folded both her arms aggressively.

“Cool, that would’ve been weird.” Veronica thought. Then Eliza began rubbing her chin. That was never a good sign.

“Weeeeeell…” Eliza said.

Veronica deflated like a balloon. “Here we go…”

“Huh? No! It’s not what you think. I don’t like him like that, or much at all really. However, I can’t deny he is...charming to put mildly. I can recognize that. As a whole, I don’t like Nick that much. There’s too much that grinds my gears. That said, there is a side to him I deeply appreciate. Don’t tell him that or I’ll deny it.”

Her tidbit made Vee’s cat ears wiggle. “You gonna leave me hanging like that? Elaborate a little.”

“Really? I didn’t want to diss him in front of you or anything.”

“Tah! Nick doesn’t need anyone coming to his defense and I’m not gonna bite your head off over an opinion, most likely.” She had to add that last part. Veronica doubted Eliza was going to say something that would be unapologetically mean but you can never know what a person could say. “Speak your mind.”

Eliza looked towards the stage to watch the council president in question adjust some light equipment to put on his sister. “That boy is...selfish in the wrong way.”

That sure was an answer. Veronica tilted her head. “I...don’t follow.”

“Nicholas Schnee is a people pleaser, yet he goes out of his way to do things on his own and inefficiently. He has the qualities of a great leader but doesn’t truly lead anyone. Instead he bends over backwards. This entire concert was his idea yet he chose not to fill anybody in on this for weeks; leaving us in the dark when we could’ve been further along. All that money, trust, and influence, yet I fail to see him use it with the care I know he knows how to do. It’s so annoying! Agh, I wish I had a fraction of what his name has.”

“Sounds like to me you’re a little envious?”

“A bit, but that doesn’t change my view of him. You know him. Am I wrong?”

“I’m the last person to judge right or wrong here, but I see what you mean. Nick definitely has his faults, no argument there. I told him the other day he was a bit pushy at times and overbearing. Still, I wouldn’t say those qualities are bad. Nick is… a man on a mission.”

The administration in Veronica’s eyes was clearer than air to Eliza. “Opinions aside, his heart is good. The love he has for family and friends is undeniably. I respect that.”

“Is that the part you deeply appreciate?”

Eliza shook her head. “No, that quality is a given. The side I like is one few people see. I witnessed it for the first time at a red carpet event several years ago. It was our first time actually speaking. I stubbornly declared I’d beat him in a tournament and show everyone how beneath me he was.”

“Wow, your social skills really are rough.”

“Cut me some slack. I was fourteen and cocky. Anyways, I expected him to laugh it off and give that fake smile he gives to the public. Instead, he gave this smug smirk at me and said ‘I can’t wait.’ It was actually chilling. I could tell from his eyes that he was threatening, no, intimidating me. He had no problem letting me know he wanted to take me down, and that’s exactly what he did on tournament day. However, right before our match, Nick took me to the side to chat. It was my first tournament. The anxiety I had was a plan on my face. Instead of using that weakness, he gave me tips to calm down. Having him focus solely on me in that ring was thrilling, different from his usual self. There’s an honesty about it I like. No way somebody can be nice all the time.”

It was for that very reason Eliza knew she had to hear Nick’s offer out. Whenever that look comes out, it spells trouble for who caused it. To think the plan involved beating Valerie? What could he possibly be up to?

Veronica rubbed her chin, intrigued. “So that’s your reasoning. Hmm.” She snapped her fingers and smirked. “Masochistic.”

Eliza bugged out. Her jaw dropped and she was seconds away from protest, until the snickering from Veronica let her know she was teasing again. A smile slowly formed and Eliza playfully elbowed Vee. “Shut up.” She laughed. “Talk about a mood killer.”

Veronica stuck her tongue out before breaking out into laughter when Eliza. Hard to believe the key to being social was being kinda bad at it? It was nice making a friend. Veronica didn’t say it but they were glad to be here.

Across the room, the gym door opened. “Well look who’s having fun!?” A voice bellowe, the condescending echo gaining everyone’s attention. To many’s displeasure, it was Darren sauntering in with his silent partner Max behind him. “Sounds like a real party here. Care if I join? Maybe shake things up a little?”

The upperclassman paced like he owned the place, watching. “Hard at work for my big day?” His eyes go to the stage. “Well if it isn’t the Jester of the School!”

Nick rolled his eyes. “Very original. I’d love to hear more of this comedy act but unfortunately the gym is closed for regular students. Please take your friend and your clown makeup somewhere else.”

“Pfft, you diss like a child.”

“Said the man who called me a jester.” Be it a deity or the universe itself, people should count themselves lucky Nick had high tolerance for stupidity. Darren’s presence was grinding it down however. Punches and nearly getting a friend hit by an asshole’s car did that to an individual.

Summer could see the sparks fly between the two. Grabbing the microphone from Nick with no hesitation, Summer took the lead. Unfortunately for Darren she didn’t have her brother’s tolerance, and she was on her favorite spot in the whole world. “You’re interrupting our practice and wasting my time. Beat it.”

The gym went silent. Did everyone hear that right? Summer Schnee...was rude!? Darren blinked twice, stunned. “Excuse me but, nobody was talking to you.”

“And nobody invited you. Scram.” She shooed him away as if he was a bug.

“Now is that anyone to talk to a superior? I don’t care how famous you are or what your last name is, you little princess. You just keep singing like a little songbird; it’ll be the only good press you get that day before losing to yours truly!”

Summer out of this expression of confusion. “And your name is…? Sorry, I just have a really hard time with faces when they don’t even rank in the top five.” Multiple ‘oooos’ and chatter started going. “Is Dean? Dunce? …..Dumb and Dumber?”

Max let out a simple “Hmph” while Darren got pissed. “So you got jokes huh?” He said through his teeth. It only took one step closer before Nick immediately stepped in front of his sister. Before either could give the audience a glimpse of tournament match l, Eliza flicked the lights off and on to gain everyone’s attention.

“HEY! Knock it off, all of you.” She demanded. Darren’s gaze came her way and towards Veronica by extension. Eliza took a step between the two, stopping a problem before it could start. “Na uh, eyes on me. One word to her and I might let Principal Coal know. May I remind you that after recent behavior it would behoove you to act like a respectable upperclassman, or else-”

“Hey hey hey there, little one, I just came in here to mingle a little; shoot the breeze and all. I’m not the one who got all bent out of shape and started insulting people. Ain’t that right Max?”

Unbothered, Max put his hands behind his head. “That is what happened; dumb jokes or not.”

“Yeah that’s- hey! You aren’t talking about my jokes are you!?”

Eliza took a deep breath. “Consider the breeze shot to hell. Now if you would kindly be on your way so-”

“Uuuugh, you’re so boring, acting like a lifeless doll and shit. Even her frail and tone deaf highness behind me showed some backbone for once.”

“Tone deaf!?” Summer yelled. She would’ve thrown her microphone if Nick didn’t take it from her. “Oh I really hope your bite is at least half as good as your bite. This ‘Princess’ thinks you deserve a public beat down for the world to see, personally delivered!”

“See you at the tournament!” Nick added.

Darren pointed behind himself. “See? At least they’re interesting.”

“If getting egged on by your limp insults is what you want then why should I even bother?” Eliza stepped to the side. “Best be on your way. You can earn my wrath whenever you feel man enough to enter a solo tournament instead of hiding behind your partner.”

“Oh yeah?” Darren glared. “Tough talk from a-” The back of his shirt was pulled by Max.

“Time to go. You’ve had your fun, and I’m getting a headache. No use talking. Let the tournament do all the bragging.” Max began dragging Darren to the exit until Darren brushed him off to walk himself. He gave Eliza one last pissed off look before giving a smug face as he walked away. “Tsk, drug baby.” He mumbles.

Loud footsteps and the sound of metal clanged behind him. Darren quickly turned around, ready for a fight. “Well I guess you can get ma-”He didn’t move. What he thought was Eliza losing her cool was actually her defending him with her baton from a very pissed heir with an Arma Gigas.

“He’s quicker than he looks.” Max grabbed Darren again and all but tossed him out the gym before any actions became an incident.

“Care to tell me why you wanna fight my battles?” Eliza complained.

“I’m not fighting your battles. My patience just got a little restless.” Nick unsummoned his blade and walked away. Thoughts of last night suddenly came to mind, making him sigh. “Sorry. Overstepped a bit. I’m gonna cool off.” He groaned.

Eliza rubbed the back of her head. That was...off. Nick must’ve been more ticked off by Darren than she was aware of. “Just don’t get so jumpy. The last thing I need is you not being able to kick his ass because you got suspended.”

“Haha yes ma’am.”

Eliza clapped her hands loudly. “Okay everyone! Get back to business!” She shouted, returning everything to normal. Thank the gods for at least giving Eliza cooperative staff members. Her body slumped over. Why can’t any event be peaceful! Damn that Darren! Now she wished he was in the solo bracket. Her head lifted to look at Veronica. “I take it if Nick heard that then so did you?”

“Little bit. I can pretend I didn’t. Makes no difference to me.”

“Don’t sweat it. Who likes beading around the bush anyways? You asked about my mom earlier. Now you basically know. To make a long story short, my dad in his younger years spent his money in...less than responsible ways. Who needs love when there’s plenty of clubs and corners with people looking to make a quick buck? My mother just so happened to get a little more than just lien.”

Veronica’s face scrunched up. “Yikes. That’s a lot to unpack.”

“Not really. Never had a mom so it’s not like I’m yearning for a connection when there never was one to start with. One day my dad noticed her pregnant and like you said before, I have strong features. A woman parading around with no home, every drug under the sun, and a potential baby that looked like the CEO of a company one kingdom above is a recipe for ruin. Many board members thought it best for my father to deny anything and everything. Apparently a few of them along with some kind individuals thought it best to move my mother in with him. This way the baby, me, would at the very least be healthy.”

“What about your mother?”

“Ultimatum. Fall in line with this new society and learn to act like a high class citizen, or take a generous amount of money to keep quiet. I don’t look like her so spinning a story wouldn’t do her well, and high class society didn’t mean she could get high any hour of the day. Took the money and never looked back. Tabs were kept on her for a while but she eventually became white noise among the gutter trash of Mantle. A druggie with tons of cash is never good. Most likely ended up in a gutter from overdose or somebody who caught wind of her spending habits.”

“Eliza that’s...I’m sorry that happened.”

“Eh, I’m not losing sleep over it. Not like I got a bad deal either. Contrary to what people might say about my name, my father is a decent man and cares for me as well. He’s by no means perfect but who is? Aunt May told me once that if nothing else, my dad doesn’t make problems bigger than what they have to be. I didn’t ask to be born, so resenting me would be shallow. We get along and that’s all that matters family wise. Though...it’s not like he got a raw deal out of it.” Eliza conjured a small flame in her hand. “He took the high road and learned he got Remnant’s first magical daughter in ages. Talk about good karma.”

“Way to look at the positives.” Veronica said.

Eliza put out the flame. “It’s just the facts. Unfortunately rumors floated and not all people were happy with the decision, so little tidbits here and there got learned. As you can see with Darren’s mouth almost getting him into trouble. The only thing bigger than his mouth is his ego.”

“Yeah, I’m familiar with his type.” Veronica said with annoyance. She was too familiar with it.

“Anywho, I should get back to practice. Thanks for chit chatting. And people say it’s bad to meet your heroes and stuff. I guess they’re meeting the wrong ones.”

“I wouldn’t go that far. I mean I’m pretty rad but you know...modesty and all that. I’m no Blake Belladonna or Yang Xiao Long. Just little ol’ me.” Veronica chuckled. “See ya around?”

“Sooner than you might think.” Eliza twirled her baton and went on her way.

Veronica watched the girl leave. No wonder Nick chose Eliza to be the one to keep an eye on her. She was tough as nails; with or without the uniform! A shame Darren outed her like that. Veronica felt a little dirty learning something Eliza didn’t want to tell her. Veronica was surprised that Eliza didn’t ask for her to return the favor. Then again, it would’ve been pointless. Veronica knew herself. She wouldn’t say a word regardless of fairness. She might have even lied. The girl let out a sigh, taking a moment to look down at herself before heading back to practice. Some things are just better left unsaid.

#rwby #rwby twin snowflakes #nicholas schnee #summer schnee #eliza marigold #veronica belladonna #darren diabhalta #max winchester

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princesssarcastia · 3 years

Text

we’re tunneling under rock bottom, lads.

alrighty then. ladies, gentlemen, and those of you who know better: here it is. just laying bear the incredible shame which is my current descent back into hp. I’ve been reading lots of fic, and now i’m having a lot of thoughts about it. putting them under a readmore because I’m morally opposed to even accidentally subjecting people to this if they don’t want to see it. in the immortal words of groucho marx, these are my principles thoughts, and if you don’t like them....well, i have others.

ugh. oh god. here we go.

i’m frankly disgusted with the way james potter is frequently cast as this HIMYM-Ted-Mosby-like character, who meets a woman—no, doesn’t even meet her. just sees her. and decides this is the woman he’ll marry, and then continues to pursue her even though she makes it clear she’s not interested...FOR YEARS...sort of casts himself as a wounded, sympathetic party...and then eventually succeeds!! which is some Narrative Bullshit, because it implies that’s a way to get someone to go out with you, Which It Isn’t. like, I don’t think this interpretation even has any canon grounding, but that’s beside the point because canon is a roast and I am carving off only the bits I want to eat for consumption.

the mindset i’m using to justify this to myself is that. look. tmi hour with princesssarcastia. these books actually do mean a lot to me. they were the books that made me like to read! they opened a whole world for me; not just the world of HP but countless others, some better written, some much much worse. it was like they flipped a switch in my head and suddenly i had this glorious form of escapism that had been in front of me all along but that I could now take advantage of. I would literally not be the same person I am today if I hadn’t read them. i know everyone says that but I really do mean it. hell yes I should, and WILL, be more critical of the source material and the fan material now, compared to when I first read them. I should not only be more critical, but I should also openly criticize it and its author, JK Rowling. But it’s like with lovecraft, okay; he was shit and JRK is shit, but they laid out the bare bones of something more spectacular than their tiny, bigoted minds could fully flesh out. so now, fleshing it out is our job, especially so we can rub it in their racist, transphobic, antisemetic faces that we’re way better at it than they ever were.

still hate snape! really, really do. he’s a bigot and a bully and he never changed, and the fact that he was poor and his father abused him doesn’t change that or make him redeemable somehow. It makes him more interesting, sure! More fleshed out, more three dimensional. But as a person he still sucks. He was Neville’s boggart! And not in the way that McGonagall was Hermione’s boggart; not like some face or representation of a more abstract fear. It was Literally just snape that Neville feared more than anything else in the world, and I will not abide that. Snape is bad for the same reason Umbridge is bad: your teachers are supposed to be people you can trust, they are people entrusted with your welfare, they are supposed to broaden your horizons and introduce you to the world around you in increasingly complex but ALWAYS, ALWAYS KIND ways. Snape does not do that. And I always thought the idea of him still loving Lily decades after he inadvertently sent Voldemort on the path to murdering her, and spending those decades doing something he hated and making the children in his care as miserable as he was, was much more sad than it was romantic. That’s not a romance, that’s a tragedy that he walked into with his eyes wide open, and karmically deserved.

The best fics are the ones that understand that Ron Weasley was harry’s first friend, that he was kind, and that his jealousy and temper didn’t make him any less those things. Ron Weasley is a ride-or-die bitch with, frankly, more emotional intelligence than hermione had sometimes, and I respect the hell out of him.

There really must have been more to the wizarding world than Harry ever sees, and that makes it fertile ground for fandom to grow its own ideas in. For instance, to fight a war against all the death eaters, their families, the bigoted ministry employees, and the snatchers, there simply MUST have been more order of the phoenix members than were named, the first time ‘round and the second.

When you think about it, the concept of the Order of the Phoenix is actually fascinating. because on the one hand, it’s kind of a private paramilitary group? It’s basically a militia populated by some government employees, INCLUDING cops, and schoolteachers, and healers, and sometimes your neighbors. That’s sort of a scary thought in the abstract, though it does literally happen in the U.S. allll the time. But on the other hand, it’s a group of people dedicated to taking direct action against rising fascism in their government and society. punch nazis 1995, amirite?

Very excited because today, for the first time, I read a harry potter fic where someone (hermione, of course) mentions human rights. [dead men have no tails, by DuskGlass] and it’s very offhand, narratively; there’s not deep exploration of it. But it leads to some wider questions I’ve been musing over...

...which is, even though the wizarding world is separate from the muggle world, how does that work out historically? specifically when it comes to shitty stuff, though there are certainly nicer areas of this to explore if you’d like to. For instance, How involved were british wizards in colonial efforts? Did british, french, and dutch colonists in the americas participate in the genocide against native people there? In the atlantic slave trade? How involved was the british wizarding world in colonizing India? And, were native american wizards and indian wizards involved in that conflict? I mean, i can’t imagine they weren’t. And if they weren’t, and the european forces still succeeded anyway, they the european wizarding world would have to have been involved in that, right? when exactly did wizarding and muggle society start splitting far enough apart that muggle wars were not wizarding affairs? Are there wizards in every country on the planet? Is there the same level of disengagement in every other country as there is in Great Britain? These are questions i’m sure Hermione must have gotten answered for herself at some point. I’d like to know the answers as well.

In retrospect, a lot of Hogwarts classes seem centered around defense and offense; in training people in combat, even if that’s not explicitly what they call it. not in any fudge/umbridge esque “they’re training the kids in combat to take over the government!!!!” way, but in a “this world is actually very, very dangerous, from creatures to rogue magical objects or rogue magical people who mean you harm.” That’s a fascinating mindset to have; it’s a fascinating paradigm to shift to, I imagine, especially for muggleborns. Sort of prudent in canon, given the whole Voldemort thing, but it makes you wonder if the wizarding world then just always has some kind of asshole trying to take it over and kill a bunch of people along the way.

I’ll probably have more thoughts at some point, but that’s it for now. feel free to discuss these, or any other, harry potter thoughts with me further. I gotta get my enrichment somehow.

#hp #meta #history #world building #im so sorry #but also if you're interested in these plz do talk to me #harry potter

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wildandsexyjacks · 5 years

Text

Where We Left Off

Pairing: Cho Seungyoun + Reader

Genre: Fluff? Maybe a little comedy? idk

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: Mild swearing

In retrospect, it would have been better to just say no.

When your friend came to work giggling and saying she had met the perfect guy for you to get over your idiotic ex-boyfriend with, you should have thanked her and politely declined her offer to set up a date with him.

It came from a good place, a place of love and concern, you knew that much. The poor girl had to put up with your incessant crying for over a week after your breakup with Seungyoun, so of course, she was worried - but you were fine now. Really.

The problem is: from the day you first met her, you’ve always had a hard time denying her anything. She’s always so bright and cute she can get away with pretty much anything, so just to humor her you had decided to accept the offer and go on the damn date.

Now you wish you hadn’t done it.

Not that the guy’s terrible. Far from it, he seems actually pretty decent. Fresh out of med school, he wants to save lives and help people and believes health care should be free for everyone. He’s smart and handsome, speaks with a lovely accent, and would generally fit your friend’s description of him as The Perfect Guy™…. If he wasn’t so dull you can’t even remember his name. Colin? Connor? You really have no idea.

While he tells you yet another story of his life as a medical resident, you poke at your chicken with a fork and consider faking a stroke or something simply to make him shut up. Then you remember he’s a doctor. It would probably just be an opportunity for him to showcase his abilities.

Damn.

“... And I was like ‘Mrs. Kim, you can’t smoke in here!’ but she blew smoke right on my face and went all ‘I’ll do as I please’ and…” someone clears their throat behind you, and he stops telling his story “Um... Can I help you?”

To your surprise, Cho Seungyoun goes around the table and stops by your side. He looks better than he should while being your ex, and a small corner of your mind tells you it’s not good that you noticed it. For some reason, he seems mad.

“Y/N! Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant?” he waves a folded paper sheet on your face “You weren’t picking up your phone so the doctor called me to confirm your appointment. Why didn’t you tell me?”

You frown. What the hell is he talking about?

“What was your plan?” Seungyoun insists, not even giving you a chance to answer, speaking slightly louder now “Dropping out of school and praying I would never find out? Well, that ship has sailed now.”

Turning his back to the guy at your table - Jesus, what is his name? - Seungyoun waggles his eyebrows in a way you know too well and then it hits you: he’s effectively making this up to try and ruin your date, even though you don’t understand why.

It takes more effort than you initially thought, but since you were looking for a way out, you manage to keep a straight face and decide to play along.

“We are over, Seungyoun. It’s none of your business.”

“Excuse me, sir.” Your date chimes in, confused “Who are you?”

“He’s leaving.” You explain.

Seungyoun flashes you one final amused smile before turning to face him - Maybe his name is Colin? He looks like a Colin.

“Who am I? Who am...? Who are you?!” He facepalms, and lets out a muffled sigh through his hand “Who’s this, Y/N? Your new boy? I will die before I let this tool raise my son!”

“Wait-” Possibly-Colin looks at him a little shocked. “What?”

“Daughter.” You correct with a deadpan. “And I’m sure he’ll be a better dad than you!”

“What?” as Possibly-Colin asks again, you try really hard not to laugh.

Seungyoun’s lower lip trembles, and for a second you think he might actually cry “It’s… It’s a girl?”

Completely panicked by now, your date stands up so fast he bumps into the table, then fishes for his wallet inside his back pocket and proceeds to drop some money on the table.

“OKAY, you two clearly have a lot to talk about so I’ll leave you to it.” he takes his jacket and phone “I’ll call you, Y/N.”

“Colin, wait!” You call, getting up from your chair.

“It’s Charles.”

Charles, of course. He leaves you at the table with your ex and made-up baby and aims for the door. When he’s finally out of sight, Seungyoun makes a sad face, pouting at you.

“I don’t think he’s going to call.”

The both of you break out laughing until you remember you’re mad at him.

“Why are you here? And more importantly what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

He stands awkwardly by the table, tapping his foot on the marble floor. You can almost see the gears turning in his head to come up with a reasonable motive for him to show up out of the blue and ruin your date.

“Well, I was the one who brought you here for the first time, all those years ago, remember? You don’t own the place and it’s MY favorite restaurant too, I can come whenever I want.” he rolls his eyes, defensive “I was just having a few drinks with Hangyul-” he points to the bar and you recognize his roommate waving at you from the stool “then I saw you here with Mr. Fancy Pants and noticed you were being viciously tortured with utter boredom so I decided to help.”

He's absolutely right but you’ll never admit to it, so in an attempt to avoid lying you yank the folded paper from his hand to take a peep inside. It’s a music theory exam from a class you both go to and you remember staying up late to study together on more than one occasion. It’s his favorite subject.

“You’re a fucking troll, Seungyoun.”

He laughs and winks at you.

“You used to like that about me, darling.”

The statement makes you frown.

“Don’t call me that.”

His smile falters. “You used to like that, too.” He tries, in a small voice.

“Used to.”

You stare at each other as your dinner gets cold and some clients whisper about what’s happening. You hear the words baby and boyfriend very clearly and sigh.

“What do you want, Seungyoun?”

As if you had invited him to stay, he moves to sit on the now vacant chair, and you slide back into your seat as well. Being exposed to Seungyoun’s sweet smile is probably a set back to your arduous work on getting him out of your system, but maybe if you talk it out like grown adults and then walk your separate ways, it will hurt less to see him in class.

He shifts in his seat, then starts fiddling with a napkin while avoiding eye contact. He seems nervous, almost scared, and chooses his words very carefully before speaking:

“Listen, I know I don’t deserve the best boyfriend award...”

“... You don’t say!” You look at him blankly and he puts his hands up in defeat.

“Okay, point taken. But come on Y/N, we were pretty good together for almost a year. It wasn’t all bad, was it?”

It wasn’t, really. In fact, Seungyoun was fun and romantic and gentle and in general a great boyfriend when he was around. The problem was that he was never around all that much, to begin with, especially after he started participating in rap battles with some guys from college. Between classes and friendships and his underground rapper stuff, he was too busy to be with you most of the time, it was like he always had more serious plans or some sort of inevitable appointment. You’d tried to be supportive, after all, he had worked so hard to get to where he was now in his career as a rising hip-hop star... But after so many months you couldn’t help feeling neglected, so you broke things off because you deserved better than what Seungyoun was willing to offer at that time. It was a difficult decision and you missed him a lot at first, but you were better now.

Sort of.

For the most part, at least.

“What do you want?” You ask again, annoyed at him for showing up when you were trying to forget him and at yourself for letting him do so.

“Nothing is fun without you.” He states matter of factly “My hip-hop gigs don’t mean anything when you’re not there to cheer me on. Cold pizza at 3 a.m tastes horrible if you’re not by my side pouring ketchup in literally everything.” He rolls his eyes “It’s a disgusting habit of yours but I miss even that. You know... I didn’t even finish watching Game Of Thrones because you weren’t there to cuss at Jon Snow with me.” He then sighs and looks at you in a way that breaks your heart “I can’t ever sleep on Friday nights anymore because you were supposed to sneak in and share the bed with me and when you don’t it just... It doesn’t feel right.”

“Seungyoun...”

“Tell me how to fix this.” He begs, clasping his hands together until his knuckles go white “Please, I need to fix this. I’ve been reflecting on what’s truly important in my life and what I hope for the future, and I can be the boyfriend you deserve if you give me another chance. I will do that, I mean it. Please, let’s start over.”

He looks the same yet slightly different - all wide eyes and trembling hands now, a picture of both hope and sorrow. Your heart aches for the millionth time in these three months you’ve been apart.

Nothing is as fun without him too, you realize.

Not your classes, not binge-watching tv shows for two days straight on weekends, not drinking cheap wine while discussing classical music until you fall asleep on the floor of your dorm.

Certainly not having dinner dates at your favorite restaurant either, and that’s just one of the many reasons why Colin-Charles never stood a chance.

The place is packed and you can feel the heavy stares of every customer and employee near your table on the scene unfolding, but you don’t really care. Heart racing like crazy, you reach across the table - knocking the flower vase over in the process - and grab Seungyoun by the lapels. His eyes grow big as he waits for whatever is coming, and not even you are sure if you’d rather kiss him or slap him when your lips come together. Then you pull back again and leave him leaning over the table blinking at you in surprise.

“I don't think we can start over, but maybe we could pick up from where we left off.”

#cho seungyoun #seungyoun scenario #seungyoun imagine #x1 scenarios #x1 fanfic #it's missing x1 hours #fun fact i wasnt even planning on writing for them but now this is almost an x1 fanfic blog lmao

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dasklaus · 4 years

Text

Some self-righteous whining about how stupid everyone but me is.

It is very hard to not have it go to your head when you're consistently, measurably better than most others at almost everything you try.

Part of that is likely the "trying" part. Not everyone tries, after all, and I don't notice competence in areas I don't care about. And I sometimes think "psh, I could do that, if I wanted to" and then don't because I don't want to. Who knows how many people look at me and think the same thing.

But I'm also not a fan of downplaying the things I care about for politeness' sake. Don't worry about how fast I did this task, I fail at other things. I'm smart? Yeah, but you're street-smart! Oh, I'm just good at figuring out what teachers want to hear! Ugh.

I'm taking a class in cognitive linguistics this semester. I'm in a study group with three highly motivated, organized and reliable girls. They meet up weekly, they make sure to each check the homework before we turn it in (it's group homework), they take the time to discuss questions until everyone got it, they all do all the readings. Jackpot. And yet ... 90% of the talking is done by me, both in class and in the study group. They struggle with examples that the text presents so clearly it's pointing neon signs at the answer. And they're all studying linguistics, while I'm not! They should know this! Oh, and despite it being an English class, that I'm taking because I want more practice actively conversing in English (verbally - with sounds instead of, you know, chat, like normal people), they just don't speak English. At all.

Those aren't lazy, disinterested people. Those are the 10% of class that wants to be there. So why does this keep happening? My partner has the obvious answer: because they're all twenty and I'm not, and that decade really does make a difference. Also, my being confident talking in class might actually harm their confidence, leading to them looking for my take on the homework first.

I really do make an effort to affirm other people's points, to wait for others to speak up first, to sometimes not say anything at all even though I have an answer ready, just to force others out of the shadows. I don't want my shadow to darken anyone's education experience. But this is not an outlier, this is most classes I'm taking, even economics, which I failed. The people who participate in discussions whose points are more than a garbled quote from the textbook are so few and far in between that I see them as a lifeline in an empty sea. This is what I'm here for. This is why I don't just read books on my own. But most of the time I have one-on-one discussions with the professors, and I'm not quite old enough to ask them to hang out and discuss more fascinating stuff over a glass of ... water, I guess, but imagine I was cool and said beer instead.

E. said her mother used to tell her - and she quoted that quite sarcastically, I don't know if that's her twist on it or not - "at the next higher educational institution, you'll finally meet the smart people", and she used to wait for that to happen, too, through level after level after level of education.

She did meet smart kids. Some. Here and there. But they're pretty rare almost everywhere, it seems.

It's not that I don't want to hang out with not-that-smart people. I just want to have intellectually stimulating conversations with intellectual equals from time to time. That's all. And I have to beg for it, practically.

I made myself a nice intellectual nest on tumblr, and have neglected it completely in the past weeks, because it's a lot to read and I have >200 pages weekly readings already and also a brand new copy of Fallout 4 (I never said intellectually stimulating conversations is all I enjoy). It's not quite conversation as I don't know how personal it is - if people reply to me, do they reply to me or a rando that wrote something on their post? But it's something. I have about 40 posts saved that I want to reply to when I find the time. If you see me replying to you months after a post in the future, that's why.

#personal #whining

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h-styles-babes · 5 years

Text

Harry Styles Blurb/Request #10

Alright, I searched for like half an hour to try to find the request I got for this prompt, but I couldn’t fine it. But, just know someone requested this off a prompt list several months ago, and I finally got inspiration to write it because I’ve definitely been in a much better place lately. So I really hope you enjoy it, and let me know what you think!

WARNING: All the smut. This is basically just 4500 words of kink. You’ve been warned.

32. “You’re acting like this is your first threesome.”

There wasn’t much about uni that Y/N didn’t like. She was the academic type, so she really enjoyed getting to take classes she had interest in and getting to sit and discuss with people who held similar interests, who would participate and lend something insightful to said conversations. She enjoyed the work she got to do in her major, shadowing people in the field and getting to talk to her professors, who usually were full of amazing information and resources. She loved the freedom it allowed her to make her own decisions in her day to day life and for her long-term goals. She loved it, truly.

But of the few things she didn’t like about uni—including the food at the dining hall and the obnoxious frat parties—she especially disliked group projects.

See, Y/N was more of a ‘do it herself’ kind of girl. She worked well on her own because she was able to control the procedure and the outcome. She was able to do what she thought was best without input from anyone else. She’d always lived by the saying “If you want something done right, do it yourself,” because she’d found in her time at school, that the saying rang true with herself. She always tended to be the person that cared the most and put in the most effort whenever she was put in a group, so why bother with group members when she could accomplish the same thing—sometimes better—all alone?

So, imagine her displeasure when she’d walked into her 10 am Monday class to a stack of papers describing a group project that would last the remainder of the semester. She groaned audibly when she read the first line of the description, realising she’d be working with two other people who would be randomly chosen by her professor. Her prof chuckled at her, knowing her distaste for group work from years of having her in classes. It was her last year of uni, so she was taking a relatively easy class after getting all her more vigourous coursework out of the way early on. The class was open to all years, and she just really hoped she didn’t get paired up with first years. She still had to graduate, after all, and she didn’t want a grade that hinged on this project being dictated by a bunch of eighteen year olds.

“You’ll be fine, promise,” Professor Zimmerman told her, throwing her a wink as she sighed and trudged up to where she was sat toward the center of the room.

It was a smaller class, with only twenty-four students enrolled, so they occupied a regular classroom and not a lecture hall. She usually sat next to an Irish boy named Niall who was in his final year as well, and he was really nice. A bit rowdy sometimes with a jolting laugh, but he was kind and had a lot to offer during discussions, and he actually took the time to talk to Y/N when he saw her around campus. She considered him a friend, and she was really hoping Professor Zimmerman would take pity on her and pair her with Niall, at the very least. She could deal with anyone else as long as she had him in her group.

Niall slid into his seat just a few moments after she did, and he grinned at her. “Think I convinced Zimmerman to put us in a group together,” he told her.

Y/N’s eyes lit up as she looked at him. “You’re serious?” Niall nodded. “Oh god, you’re the best. I was seriously dreading this. Imagine if I got paired with two first years? I would have cried.”

“I know, that’s why I sweet talked ‘im. Now we just gotta wait and see who our third person is.”

They didn’t have to wait long to find out.

Zimmerman started the class by separating everyone into groups. Everyone had at least skimmed the paper already, so they knew what they were in for, so everyone listened intently as he called out names three at a time. Niall and Y/N were part of the fourth group to be called.

“Group Four will be Mr. Horan, Miss Y/L/N, and Mr. Styles.”

Y/N felt her heart seize up at the mention of that name. She hadn’t spoken to him in months, let alone even look his way in this class. She’d nearly forgotten they were even in it together. Her mind had done a pretty good job of purging all unpleasant thoughts from her mind from the previous term. She’d known him and Niall were mates, but they didn't talk much in this class, and she’d never seen Niall out and about with him by his side.

When Zimmerman was done calling out groups and instructing everyone to take the rest of the class time to come up with ideas for the project, the class moved, everyone rearranging themselves to be next to their group mates.

The seat in front of Y/N vacated, and she could see him approaching her and Niall from the corner of her eye. She didn’t dare look up at him; she wasn’t sure what her reaction would be to seeing his face again after letting herself move on from what happened. She busied herself with pulling out a notebook to take notes on for their ideas to avoid having to watch him sit.

“Can’t believe Zimmerman put us all together,” Niall said as Y/N felt the seat in front of her be filled. She smelled him before she even looked at him, that same enticing scent of his much-too-expensive cologne and the spearmint gum he seemed to constantly be chewing. She sort of hated herself for remembering those things about him, but some things were harder to forget than others.

“We’re the oldest ones in the class,” he replied. “Think Zimmerman took pity on us.”

Y/N’s jaw clenched as she heard his voice again, the same slow drawl of his words and they way his accent curled around his vowels. She hated that her heart jumped at the sound. Traitor.

“Good to see yeh again, Y/N,” he said, dipping his head to try to catch her eye from where they were focused on the paper on her desk.

“Harry,” she greeted, trying her best to sound casual. She busied herself with titling the paper. Anything to keep her from having to face him.

“Somethin’ wrong?” he asked, sounding sincere about his inquiry, but YN could sense the smugness in his words. She knew him. He wasn’t malicious and he didn’t ever intend to be mean, but he was a person who liked to tease, and he had sufficient ammo against her. It was something she’d just have to deal with, she supposed. For the rest of the term, at least.

“No, just not really fond of group projects. Work better by myself.”

She could see Niall nod at her sympathetically from beside her, opening his mouth to say something, but Harry beat him to it.

“You’re actin’ like this is your first threesome,” he said, doing that thing again where it sounded innocent, but when Y/N’s eyes finally flashed to his, she could see everything.

He knew what that meant. She could see in his eyes that he was remembering. The smirk on his face confirmed it.

She could see it all in the brightness of his eyes. She saw herself, a mouth on her breast, a head between her legs, hands roaming heated skin. The sounds of skin slipping and smacking, mouths gasping and groaning. The sensation of hair being pulled, nails scratching down backs, marks swelling over smooth skin. Thoughts she’d pushed in the depths of her mind for months came flooding to the surface, causing her to audibly gasp.

Niall must have thought she was affronted by the wording, because he reprimanded his friend with a squawk of his name. “Coulda worded that better, mate. Not everyone’s a sexual deviant like you.”

The way that Harry looked at Y/N assured her that not everyone was a sexual deviant like him, but he knew from experience that Y/N certainly was. Niall didn’t know that, though. No one knew aside from Harry and the other random woman that had been there with them that evening. People always joked that it was the quiet ones you had to watch out for, but no one ever really considered it in real life. No one would ever venture to guess that Y/N was the way she was, due to her bookish qualities and quiet demeanour. Harry saw through it though, even in the beginning. He saw her, and that terrified her.

“She knows what I meant,” Harry shrugged off, effectively dismissing the tense atmosphere that had descended upon them.

The trio was able to get through the rest of the class without any further weirdness, and they were actually able to come up with a solid idea and plan for their project. It required them spending quite a bit of time together over the next several weeks, but Y/N had to deal with it in order to get a good grade in the class. She just wanted to graduate, so she would do what she had to achieve that.

Y/N spent some time in the library to do some research for their project. She’d been looking into something online and realised the library had the original text in stock, so she went off looking for it. She didn’t realise when she began her search that it was three stories up in the very back of the building, where the lights were dim and no one except for the librarian ever ventured. The spines of the books looked like they hadn’t been touched in at least a decade, and she was afraid her allergies were going to start acting up with all the stuff lingering in the air.

She finally reached the section where the online catalog had said the book would, be, so she started looking more closely at the spines. The author’s name started with a C, and she was nearly in the B’s, so she knew she was headed in the right direction. The only problem was that she soon realised that the author she was looking for was all the way on the second to the top shelf, and there was no way she’d be able to reach it, even on her tip toes. She huffed and looked around to see if there was a stool nearby. When she could see that there wasn’t, she rolled her eyes and readied herself to make a bit of an ascent up the bookshelves.

She successfully got both feet up on the second shelf from the bottom, but when she extended her hand up, the book was still just out of her reach. She was able to touch the spine, but there was no way she was getting a good enough grip on it to pull it out from the books it was wedged between.

A sound at the end of the aisle startled her and made her lose her balance. She was incredibly afraid she was going to fall back and crack her head open on the set of shelves behind her, and she was preparing herself for the impact, eyes closed and body rigid to try to protect herself.

However, the impact never came, and instead there were arms around her waist, steadying her, and a body pressed flush against her own, pressing her front against the bookshelf she was previously stood on.

“Yeh’re a clumsy one, aren’t yeh?”

Y/N couldn’t help the shiver that ran down her spine at the hoarse words muttered close to her ear. His breath fanned over her neck, raising goosebumps across the exposed flesh.

“You startled me, that’s all,” she brushed off.

She really wished to be rid of his touch, but she really had no where to go between all her obstacles. He wasn’t making any move to release her, and she wasn't about to forcefully push him off of her for fear of making a scene. Not that there was anyone to witness it. And it wasn’t altogether unpleasant, being in his arms again. She actually quiet liked the warmth his body provided in this dreary section of the library, and she couldn’t deny that having him pressed against her was the most contact she’d had with a man since the last time they’d been together. However, she wasn’t supposed to like it, and her brain was telling her to get him away. Her heart and body protested that decision readily.

“Didn’t mean to, pet,” he told her. He made no move to step away or release her, and her heart hammered in her chest. Him being so close brought up too many memories.

“Don’t call me that,” she gasped. She hadn’t heard the term of endearment in months, and it sparked something in her that was entirely too pleasant for their current situation.

“Why not?” he whispered, his nose drawing gently along the column of her neck. He grinned when she swallowed harshly. “Remember yeh were fond of the name. Or do yeh prefer ‘kitten’? Yeh seemed to really like that one.”

“Harry…” she rasped, her entire body tingling with the memories. Her breathing was shallow and laboured. She felt like she needed to compose herself, but he wasn’t giving her the opportunity to. And if she was being honest with herself, she was enjoying this little scene too much to want to break the spell they were under.

“Or are those too cute for yeh?” he mumbled, nipping at her ear. “Seem to recall yeh bein’ particularly responsive to ‘little slut.’” Harry jutted his hips forward into hers, and Y/N whimpered at the feel of his hard cock pressed against her arse. Obviously he was just as worked up as she was, and she felt some solace in that.

“Fuckin’…” she gritted out, her hands braced against the cool wooden shelves to give her leverage to push back against him. “Goddammit, Harry.”

Harry’s hands trailed down from his grip on her waist to her hips, and his right kept going, tracing lightly against the button of her jeans. His fingers slipped under the hem of her shirt to tease the skin there, feeling her muscles contract against his ministrations.

“Gonna let me fuck yeh again?” he asked, his own breathing harsh to match hers. “Gonna let me play with that pretty little cunt? No one would know. We’re all alone up here.”

His fingers made their way into her jeans and under her knickers, trailing down to the small patch of hair he knew he’d find. Y/N pressed her arse back into him further, trying to give him more room to work, though her jeans were tight and offered limited space. She knew she wouldn’t get any real relief unless they came off.

“Please, Harry,” she whimpered, one hand coming down to grip at his forearm to steady herself.

“Please what, darling?” His lips trailed down her neck and he sunk his teeth into the junction at her shoulder.

“Please fuck me.”

That was all Harry had to hear. He’d been waiting for this for a long time. Months. Since the last time he’d had her. He’d shared her that night, with another beautiful girl who had much more interest in Y/N than she did in him. He wasn’t mad, though. Y/N deserved the extra attention. But Harry was drawn to her in a way that refused to let him allow that be the only time he had her. There was no one else that compared to her, and apart from her looks, he found her fascinating. Sure she was gorgeous, but the dichotomy of her entire being astounded him. How someone could be so studious and innocent and completely unassuming on the outside but dark and enamouring and alluring on the inside. Not saying a person couldn’t be both, but it was unlike anything he’d ever experienced before. And he was definitely into it.

Harry flicked open the button on her jeans and then slid open the zipper. He used both hands to push the material over her hips and to her knees, just enough so he could have access to her. He pulled her hips out away from the wall before undoing his own jeans and pulling his pants down to release his aching cock. The skin was drawn tight and he was already leaking from the tip, so he hoped like hell that she was just as ready as he was. He wasn’t sure if he could take it slow, and they were sort of on a time crunch anyway. While this area of the library was rarely visited and secluded, it would be just their luck if someone wandered this way.

Harry took a moment to admire the light purple lace band of her knickers before dragging his hand across her center, pressing gently into where he knew her sensitive little clit hid. From what he recalled, she was particularly reactive and she didn’t disappoint, gasping and turning her head into her bicep to muffle her moan.

Tugging her panties to the side, Harry could see her already glistening even in the dim overhead lights. He dragged two fingers through her folds, humming appreciatively when they came away slick.

“Already drippin’ for me, kitten? Absolutely fuckin’ drenched,” he muttered before sticking his fingers in his mouth. He swore his eyes rolled back in his head at the taste of her, heady and rich, with just a little bit of tang. As perfect as he remembered.

“Harry…” she pleaded, her voice breaking. Her hips wiggled in her impatience. He’d gotten her all worked up and now he was taking too long. She wasn’t in the mood for teasing or building it up. She wanted him now, and she wanted him fast. She’d been too long without his perfect cock inside of her, and she wasn’t a patient woman when it came to these things.

“Not gonna be gentle,” he warned her, taking hold of the base of his cock to guide to her entrance. He thanked everything he could bring to mind that she was so wet already. Made this whole thing move along a lot faster.

“Wouldn’t want you to be,” she assured him. She reached one hand back to grasp at his hip, urging him toward her. “Now just fuck me.”

With a smirk on his face, Harry slid into her in one long thrust, but the tilt fled from his lips as soon as her smooth, warm, tight walls surrounded him. He grunted and leaned forward to bite at her shoulder, muffling his sound.

Y/N had both hands back on the shelves, supporting herself from the force of his movements. She buried her mouth back in her arm to stifle her groan. God, she’d missed the stretch of him. Harry was the largest she’d ever had, both in length and girth, and it wasn’t exactly an easy fit. But if was such a delicious stretch and he filled her up perfectly that she was nearly drunk with the sensation the moment he entered her.

“Hold on tight,” Harry warned her before starting up an unrelenting pace.

They were both glad for the seclusion of their place in the building, because they couldn’t maintain relative silence even if they wanted to. Even with their methods, their heavy breathing and the slapping of their skin together would have been enough to assure everyone in hearing range of exactly what they were doing. As it was, Harry and Y/N weren’t very good and quieting themselves, either. Their moans and whimpers frequently took on a nearly full volume, and Harry even had to move one hand over Y/N’s mouth, his two first fingers slipping in, in order to keep her quiet.

She sucked greedily on the digits, wishing and imagining that it was Harry’s cock in her mouth instead, which just made her moan more. She sincerely hoped he was willing to take this somewhere more private afterward, because there was a lot she’d like to do that they definitely weren’t going to get done there.

“Such a fuckin’ slut for it, aren’t yeh?” he grunted into her ear. “Can feel yeh absolutely soakin’ my cock. Are yeh a bit of an exhibitionist, pet? Hopin’ someone will hear yeh gettin’ yeh’re cunt pounded. Wishin’ they’d hear my name when yeh moan it out. Get off to this shit, hmm?”

Y/N couldn’t help but nod at his assessment. He knew she liked the thought of fucking in a public space; of the risk of getting caught. It thrilled her and caused her walls to clench. Harry hissed.

“So fuckin’ tight, honey. Gonna make me cum in your pretty little cunt.” He shifted her hips slightly, causing him to brush against a new spot. She cried out above the muzzle of his fingers. “Right there? Did I find your button? Gonna squirt all over me like yeh did last time?”

She hadn’t forgotten about that. How could she, even with her successful attempts at brushing her memory of that night away? It was the first time she’d ever cum like that. Harry and been pounding into her at a similar angle to the one he was at now, and her lips were curled around the other girl’s clit when she’d felt that strange sensation. She’d been alarmed at first, afraid something horrible was going to happen, but when she’d protested to Harry, he’d assured her it was okay. He urged her to let her body relax, and when she did, liquid had come gushing out of her unlike she’d ever experienced before. Both Harry and the other girl had looked at her in shocked amazement before sharing excited laughs and continuing on with their playing. Y/N had brushed it aside at the moment, but expressed her embarrassment afterward. Harry had promised her it was normal and told her it was the hottest thing he’d ever seen, which made her feel much better about it.

So, she was familiar with the sensation now. She could feel it building like a balloon deep inside her, the pressure forcing Harry to work harder through it. His thrusts slowed some, but they kept the same force, willing her to explode all over the both of them.

“Come on, kitten. Gonna make us walk out of here with your cum all over us. Give it to me,” he demanded, his voice deeper than she’d ever heard it. She felt the shudder in his thrusts and knew he was close as well. She just needed a little bit more and she’d fall over the edge with him.

“Harder,” she choked out around his fingers. Her breath was held in her chest, the overwhelming feeling of her approaching orgasm rendering her unable to expel any air. “Fuck me harder.”

Harry growled and stood up on his toes to get a better angle to drive down. He allowed the weight of his body and the motion he’d already set be that last bit of force she needed to finally burst. And he was not disappointed with the results.

He cut off her building scream with his hand to her throat, squeezing just hard enough to temper the sound. He thrust through the cascade of cum her body released, all over his cock and thighs and her own as well. Luckily, their clothes seemed to be catching most of the liquid and not dripping all over the floor, but Harry wasn’t bothered by it much. His mind was much more focused an the trembling of her body as she came and his own release rushing through him.

He buried his face in her neck, giving one last ditch effort to keep quiet. He came until his vision turned white, overstimulated by the continuing contractions of her walls. He didn’t even remember when he stilled, but when he seemed to regain consciousness, they were both leaned against the shelves, breathing heavily, slick with all sorts of bodily fluids. Harry’s hair was sticking to his forehead and he could see where tendrils of hers was sticking to her neck. They reeked of sex, but he couldn’t care less. He was too fucked out to care about anything aside from getting her back to his flat so they could wind down together and maybe go for round two. And three.

“Yeh alright?” he asked when their breathing finally evened. He pulled out of her as gingerly as possible, but he still noticed when she flinched a little. He used the leg of his underwear to clean himself up as best as possible before tucking himself back away and doing up his jeans.

Y/N righted her own bottoms as she nodded. “Yeah, I’m great.” There was a dazed tone to her voice, and Harry saw the brightness of her skin and the glossiness of her eyes when she turned to look at him. He realised he’d gone the entire time without looking at her face, and he regretted it. However, he convinced himself it was just something he’d have to rectify once they got back to his. He loved the face she made when she orgasmed.

“Still hate me?” Harry asked, trying to keep up his cocky, sarcastic front, but it was a genuine question.

Ever since their night together, Y/N had avoided him like the plague for reasons unbeknownst to him. He wasn’t sure what he did wrong, since it had seemed like their night together had gone amazingly, especially considering they’d stayed together in the hotel room for the night after the other woman left, talking about everything and nothing into the wee hours of the morning. But when he’d woken up a few hours after falling asleep with her in his arms, she’d been gone. And ever since then, she’d walked around campus like she couldn’t even see Harry, let alone even knew him. It hurt, if he was being honest, but he’d allowed her the space she obviously wanted while pining from afar. Even though they’d had sex together—rather kinky sex—first, he really did like her. Wanted to get to know her better and ask her out. She’d never allowed him the opportunity, though.

She looked up at him through her lashes, her brow furrowing adorably. “I never hated you, Harry. Why would yeh think that?”

“Kinda acted like I didn’t exist after the last time,” he told her, pointing out the obvious.

Y/N bit at her lip in nervousness before figuring it was best if she just came out with it. “I wasn’t doing that because I hated you. I was just embarrassed. What normal person has a threesome with a guy within a few weeks of knowing him?”

Harry scoffed with a playful roll of his eyes. “Normal’s boring and overrated. Nothin’ to be embarrassed about. Wouldn’t have fucked yeh if I didn’t like yeh, and I definitely wasn’t judgin’ yeh for it, considerin’ I was part of it, too.”

“I know,” she nodded, biting that damn lip again. Was going to drive him crazy. “It was just sorta out of character for me. Well, my more public character, I suppose.” She shrugged. “Was afraid of someone I knew in real life knowin’ my secret.”

Harry brushed her hair over her shoulder and tucked a bit of it behind her ear, flashing her a soft smile. “Your character is whatever yeh make it. Perfectly okay to be all shy and quiet and studious at school and with your friends and be a complete freak in private with the people you share sex with.” His grin turned mischievous. “Quite like being one of the few that get to see both.”

“Yeah?” she asked, looking at him expectantly.

“Yeah,” he nodded. He hesitantly reached out to grab ahold of her hand, sighing a silent breath of relief when she wrapped her fingers around his palm instead of pulling away. “Now, I would really like it if we could get some coffee or tea and get to know each other better. Maybe get some dinner sometime. Go to a movie.”

Y/N grinned at him wryly. “Are you trying to date me, Harry Styles?”

He shot her a deadpan look. “Might’ve gotten to it earlier if yeh hadn’t run away. Been pinin’ like a bloody schoolboy for months now.”

She cooed at him. “You’re adorable.”

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. So are we gettin’ coffee or not?”

The smile she sent his way then was bright and full of sunshine. Such a contrast to the girl who’d been asking him to fuck her harder just a few minutes before. He loved it.

“That sounds amazing.”

#Harry Styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles angst #harry styles au #harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry styles oneshot #harry styles request #harry styles smut #harry styles writing #Smutty smut smut

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nicoletterogers · 4 years

Text

task eight - high school never ends

( tw: adhd mention )

[ soundtrack ]

Let’s start with the simple stuff first. what classes did you take in high school? which ones were you most and least excited for? did you have a favorite teacher that made the days more enjoyable?

Nic propped her leg up on a chair, leaning in as she listened to the question. People never wanted to talk about high school--brought up bad memories for some. Some just didn’t care. Not for Nic--comparatively, high school was a good part of her life. She preferred college, but she didn’t hate her last years in the public school system. The blonde shrugged. “Well, I mean--I had to take the core classes, y’know? But my high school was big enough where we had a lot of really cool electives in all sorts of subjects--like I once took a class called ‘American History through Music”’and that was sick as fuck. I also took one on the World Wars. I liked history a lot back then. I guess I still do--but I don’t have a lot of time to sit and learn anymore. That’s why I’m big on documentaries. I mean, yeah, Liam of course--but also I like learning.” She paused, humming while she thought about her classes. “I hated English. Like what a pointless class--why would you have to learn about a language that you already speak? I mean, yes, i know, it’s not actually important. I think Lia has shared with me a few times the joy of what words mean--but i don’t know. I just never could figure out why anyone would want to spend more time than they had to writing papers or reading books. Maybe if i had taken a creative writing course or two--but nah. Give me AP Gov any day--or even trig. I was good at trig.” She paused. “Nah, teachers liked Liam. He was charismatic and charming, good at sitting and listening. School was never hard for me, but I didn’t possess the talent of sitting still for very long. I think I was...a sophomore in college when I first got diagnosed with ADHD. Did you know that ADHD often shows up different in women than men?” Nic nodded. “Yeah--its wild. Girls are significantly less likely to get a diagnosis growing up, which means that their symptoms go untreated and unsupported for crazy long periods of time--like sometimes 20 years. I think that’s why I really struggled in English--because the subject didn’t interest me and like hell i could just sit there and read something. But nah, teachers and I never bonded. Which is fine because I still did well in school. It just took some extra effort.”

and now, outside of the classroom. did you participate in any extracurricular activities like sports, band, or other clubs? were you apart of the prom planning committee or did your parent always sign up to chaperone field trips? or did you bolt home or to work at the end of the day?

“Oh hell yes. I was all about the extracurriculars. I did archery, cheerleading--don’t laugh--worked on the school newspaper for a year, managed the lacrosse team for a year, volunteered to be a mentor for incoming freshman and, of course, worked. Anything to stay out of my house. I mean, I loved Liam but my dad and I are like oil and water. He wanted me to be like Liam so badly--and I just...couldn’t. One, I wasn’t a guy--and that was disappointment enough for him. But I wasn’t Liam and spending time around dad just...it was so much pressure. So I tried to focus my time elsewhere. and I liked being busy--my brain enjoyed that piece. It was like my environment finally matched how fast my brain was working. Even cheerleading--the sport that made me a wear a skirt--was fun. Because nothing is better than proving a bunch of stupid high school boys that yes, cheerleading is a sport. a hardcore, badass sport. But if I had to pick a favorite, it would be archery. I think it’s because I got to teach it to the kiddos at camp later on, but also--like how powerful is it to be able to pull back on a bow and let an arrow fly through the sky and get a bullseye? Like it’s badass.” Nic grins at the memory. “Oh, and then seeing those kids at camp--especially the ones who struggle with who they are and their self-confidence--light up when they hit the target? the pride they have in themselves for something they’ve done? That shit’s an unreal high.”

a night to remember. did you go to prom? if so, did you have a date or fly solo, and was it a good time where you danced all night, and what were you wearing? if not, did you have an ‘anti-prom’ party, or why else did you decide not to go? what about other school dances or pep rallies?

The blonde lets out a laugh and nods, thinking about the memory. “Oh yeah-- I definitely went to prom. I mean, I think I was always going to--but I don’t think I anticipated having a date. And definitely not winning prom queen, but that’s Malik for you. The kid was like the closest thing to a celebrity in school--I mean, I think so. He was the star jock and you know how high schoolers get about their sports. But no, Malik and I are good friends--super close. I love that guy, he’s such a good one. So of course I was going to say yes when he asked me to go with him. I’m pretty sure half of my squad was jealous, but like...that whole thing never made sense to me. The whole jealousy thing.” It sure as hell does now though. She thought bitterly, her own situation appearing back in her mind. “Anyway, we went as friends. I didn’t expect to win prom queen--hell, i didn’t even know people knew who I was. Weirdest experience ever to put a tiara on. But honestly--prom was kinda fun. Not kinda, I really enjoyed it. Malik and I did end up kissing, but it was one of those kisses where you realize, at the end of it, you’re way better off as friends than anything more? Not that the kiss was bad, not at all.” She laughed, shaking her head. “I wore this red dress with a slit up the side and I had never in my entire life though I’d wear something like that. It looked good though. Like really good. All that cheerleading paid off I think.” Another chuckle came out of her lips. “As for pep rallies-- I was in them so of course I was there. And I liked the energy of them. I’ve always liked big energy spaces--concerts, pep rallies, sporting events. It feels like--at least for a moment--you’re all connected by something greater than yourself. Maybe that’s like my church. I don’t know. But yeah, I liked pep rallies.”

some more of the hard hitting q’s. who did you sit with at lunch? did you keep the lock off your locker or decorate it? were your headphones always snaked through your sneeve? was cutting class a normal occurrence or would you never dare? did you ever get detention?

“I mean, I don’t think I was ever popular--but I always had a place to sit with someone. It was either with Liam and his friends--I guess they were also my friends, but I met them through Liam so it’s hard for me to associate them as just mine. Sometimes with my squad, but not often. I didn��t care for the dramatics of dates and boys and clothing talk. But every so often we had a good discussion on things that I did care about--sometimes it was on women’s rights, though that was a lot of Sammi repeating what her mother told her about feminism (not that it was wrong, but it wasn’t Sammi’s words, that was sure) or the fact that child workers were making the clothing they had talked about the previous day. I liked those conversations the best. But even still, it was usually me shooting the shit with Liam and our friends. I loved those guys so much, y’know? I still keep in touch with a lot of them--some have families, some just got married. In fact, I am going to Tate’s wedding in a couple weeks. Its so weird to think they’re just now getting married and...” She trailed. Maybe now wasn’t the time for that thought. “Detention? Oh yeah. Me and Mrs. Huxley were good pals by graduation. Mostly it was about cutting class--but everyone once in a while she’d catch me with a...special someone in an empty hallway. Ok, so it only happened twice and I never told Liam because he’d kill me if he knew. So I guess,” She looked up at the sky and chuckled lightly. “Surprise?”

upward and onward. what did you want to be when you were sixteen? was there a career path in mind, a certain college, another route worth taking? were you excited to see your high school in the rearview mirror or was moving on bittersweet? if you graduated, was it scary or exciting or a mix of both? did you end up where your younger self expected you to?

"Well, when I was really little, I wanted to be a sideline reporter for the Bears. Or a commentator for the Cubs. Something to do with sports, absolutely. I could never imagine leaving this city--not in a million years. Even at 31, the city still surprises me daily and i love that fact the most. You never know who you’re going to meet--its a giant present box you wake up in every morning. How could anyone want to leave that?” She grinned, tapping her foot. “But at 16 I think I had let go of that dream and set my sights on the Academy. Police academy. I did, briefly, think about enlisting. Thought that if I wanted to break stereotypes and gender roles, I could make a huge splash in the military. But something about that whole world--I couldn’t take the plunge. I think I wanted to support my community, keep them safe, make my home a home for all.” She sighed. “So I was going to be a cop. Plus Liam was already doing that and I couldn’t let him have all the hero glory.” She winked, smirking. “I stayed in state--in city--for school, saved me some money and I already knew the area. In fact, I didn’t really ever leave Chicago. Which, makes me small minded to some i’m sure--but why do I need to leave when the world seems to flock to chicago? Just because I never lived anywhere else doesn’t mean I haven’t been challenged to grow.” Nic shrugged. “But yeah, like I said college was probably my favorite time in my life. Like hands down. I mean how could it not be? Killed the beer pong scene, met all sorts of great people, honed my skee ball skills even more, learned some awesome things, found the love of my life--got married.” It was so much simpler at 20. So much simpler. When did everything go so wrong? “Yeah, sorry--this was about high school. Uhm--wait, what was the question again?”

and last but not least. if you could tell your younger self one thing - what would it be?

“You’re a strong cookie, Nic. Life is going to wreck you down to your core but don’t ever think it’ll destroy you. You’re too damn stubborn to let that happen--and that is not a bad thing.”

#tw adhd #malnatitask #[[wake up sunshine; headcannons]]

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themostrandomfandom · 5 years

Note

Hi! I found your blog the TKTD, and that fic and your theories have highkey gotten me back into glee :D your content is so interesting, thank you so much! I haven't read all of your analyses yet, so I may have missed something, but I'm still wondering a couple things 1. why did Brittany fail senior year? You've written a lot about her not being dumb (despite her intelligence being non-normative), and we know she's able to do at least very advanced math. It seems like her primary goal would be...

To move to the next stage of life with Santana, so why wasn’t avoiding failing out a bigger priority for her? Furthermore, as someone who was so involved with extracurriculars (Cheerios, glee), she must’ve needed to maintain reasonable grades to avoid academic suspension. So avoiding failing seems like something that would be on her radar? and 2. do you think brittany dropped the ‘if sex were dating santana and i would be dating’ line on purpose?

Hey, @savealtonrichards!

Sorry it’staken me so long to answer you! I don’t have much internet access these days.:p

If you’re infor a good ramble, it’s under the cut.

(WARNING:Here be griping about Glee writing—as one does.)

___

First thingsfirst:

Theout-of-universe stuff.

Glee is a show that’s difficult to categorize because while it ostensibly takes place withina realistic fictional universe (as opposed to say a fantasy or science fictionone), there are times when it noticeably deviates from reality.

Though thecharacters seemingly live in suburban Ohio in the early 2010s and areregular human beings living “regular lives,” there are certain aspects of theirexistences that absolutely strain credulity (even when one actively tries tosuspend disbelief).

Some ofthese breaches are obvious, like when Lord Tubbington is shown as being capableof using a computer. However, others manifest more as gaps in logic—the typesof minor “glitches” in believability that cause the viewing audience to go,“Wait a minute. That’s not how that plot development would play out in reallife.”

One exampleof this second type of breach is how between S4 and S6, the young charactersliving in New York, most of whom are supposedly tight on money, arenevertheless able to jet set back and forth to Lima seemingly every otherweekend, as if plane and train tickets are free and travel takes no time orenergy at all. Another is that Sue Sylvester could do all of the illegal,immoral, and just flat-out batshit insane things she does without ever being firedor prosecuted. Still another is that nineteen and twenty year-old kids likeBlaine, Finn, and Sam could be hired to coaching positions at their respectivehigh school alma maters, even though none of them holds a college degree orteaching certificate.

The breachin realism that is pertinent to our discussion has to do with Brittany’sacademic history—which as depicted in show canon is replete with gaps and holesand just doesn’t make much sense.

In episode1x07, we are told that for years Sue has been doctoring the grades of herCheerios, including perhaps Brittany’s. However, even after Will puts his footdown and flunks many of their teammates, the Unholy Trinity, including Brittany,continues to attend Cheerios practice. They are the only Cheerios who do.

How theyalone of the whole squad retain their academic eligibility is not clear.Santana may not be taking Spanish, as she’s not shown in the class. However,Quinn and Brittany most definitely are, so either they must be passing (whiletheir teammates are not) or else Will must have decided against giving them thefailing grades they would otherwise deserve, perhaps because he doesn’t want torender them ineligible for glee club.

WillSchuester is nothing if not a hypocrite, so honestly I wouldn’t put it past himto walk that particular low road.

In any case,the show never really clarifies to what extent Brittany may rely on Sue tomaintain a passing GPA.

ThroughoutS1, Brittany is reported to cheat off of Becky’s schoolwork in math class (seeepisode 1x09) and is shown attempting to cheat off of Quinn’s tests in Spanishclass (see episode 1x07), incidents which suggest that she does at timesstruggle with academic performance during her sophomore year.

However, herstruggles are not explored in depth, and her continued eligibility for theCheerios would indicate that either she somehow manages to make passing grades,struggles notwithstanding, or else that interference from Sue renders herstruggles moot.

Kurt alsoreports that Finn sometimes cheats off of Brittany’s math assignments (seeepisode 1x10). We don’t know if this cheating represents an isolatedincident or a pattern of behavior. However, if it’s the second option, then given that Finn maintains his academiceligibility for football even after having cheated off Brittany’s work, andconsidering that, unlike with Brittany, Sue is unlikely to have doctored Finn’sgrades, we can perhaps surmise that Brittany at least occasionally managesto earn passing grades on her own.

Even if Sueis pulling strings to keep Brittany on the field, come S2, the situationchanges, as in episode 2x11 Brittany quits Cheerios, at which point whatever“help” Sue had been giving her is almost certainly rescinded.

Shortlythereafter, in episode 2x13, Brittany remarks that hergrades are bad (“Totally. Most teachers think that by cutting class, I mightimprove my grades”), perhaps suggesting a drop-off due to a cessation in Sue’shelp.

Even so, it would still seem that Brittany isn’t altogether failing, asshe apparently passes the eleventh grade and commences thetwelfth grade with the rest of her class.

The shownever specifies to what extent Brittany and the other glee kids must maintaintheir grades in order to stay in show choir. On the one hand, glee club is notan athletic program, so the rules for eligibility may be different than withcheerleading or football. On the other hand, glee club is seemingly anextracurricular activity in which students may “letter,” and it does have itsown governing board and competition requirements, so perhaps its eligibilityrequirements are similar or even identical to those for prep sports. To whatextent there may be “house rules” specific to WMHS as opposed to district orstatewide rules for all competitive show choirs remains unclear.

My guess isthat there’s got to be some kind of statewide threshold for eligibility,particularly as we’re told, per Jesse St. James, that the Carmel High kids in VocalAdrenaline cheat and doctor their grades in order to maximize their practicetime and minimize their schoolwork.

Whatever thespecific requirements may be, the fact that Brittany remains eligible toparticipate in glee club throughout her junior year is another point that maysuggest that even without Sue’s interference Brittany maintains a passing GPA. ThatBrittany is eligible to rejoin the Cheerios come her senior year also suggeststhat her eligibility remains intact as she finishes out the eleventh grade.

However,things seem to take a sudden downshift from there, both in terms of Brittany’sprospects and in terms of narrative sense-making.

Come S3, we arefinally told that Brittany has a 0.0 GPA, though it’s never specified if that’sher semester, yearlong, or cumulative GPA. My guess is that it’s the secondoption, given that Brittany is told she must repeat the twelfth grade (asopposed to just making up a few credits during summer school or repeating multiplegrades).

That said,the situation surrounding her failure remains murky.

Prior to S3,Brittany has seemingly maintained a passing GPA, as is evidenced by heraforementioned progress through her freshman, sophomore, and junior years ofhigh school and her continued academic eligibility to participate in Cheeriosand glee club.

However, theshow never reveals how she has come by this passing GPA.

Our threemain options for explaining this phenomenon seem to be:

We can infer that Sue hasmanipulated Brittany’s grades in order to keep her academically eligible forvarsity sports.

We can infer that Brittanyhas achieved passing grades through her own efforts.

We can infer that perhaps somecombination of the above two options has taken place (i.e., that Sue hasmanipulated some of her grades, while others she earned through her ownefforts).

On the onehand, the show heavily implies that Brittany is a very poor student who wouldprobably be incapable of passing her classes if not for Sue manipulating thesystem on her behalf. On the other hand, given that Brittany maintains academiceligibility for Cheerios even when Will flunks many of her teammates in hersophomore year AND that she spends a significant portion of her junior year offthe Cheerios and still manages to pass, it would seem that Brittany is able tomake grades even during the times when Sue isn’t propping her up.

The questionsthen become: If Brittany can pass the eleventh grade “on her own,” then whydoes she fail the twelfth grade? Furthermore, how come Brittany is allowed toremain on the Cheerios and in glee club even once her grades start slipping?Why does her failure only come to light after it is essentially too late forher (or anyone else) to do anything about the problem? How come Sue, who hasnever had any qualms about manipulating her cheerleaders’ grades in the past,seemingly “allows” Brittany to fail her senior year? How come not a singleteacher or counselor at WMHS makes any efforts to help Brittany, even thoughshe is obviously struggling?

After all, Brittany’s 0.0 GPA seems to be a reflection of a chronic problem.

The firsttime we hear about said failing GPA is in episode 3x19, which is the sameepisode that features the WMHS senior prom.

For mostAmerican public high schools, prom takes place anywhere between March and June,which means that somehow Brittany is allowed to fail for at least one or two fullsemesters (or, more likely, given that many Midwestern American public schoolstend to run on the quarter system, two or even three full quarters) before Figgins tells her what’s up.

The school thenseemingly takes no action—at least as we see play out on screen—to helpBrittany course-correct for the final semester or two quarters of her senioryear.

She’s notput on academic monitoring or probation. She’s not assigned a tutor. MissPillsbury doesn’t set up any meetings with her to discuss her options or determineher future. No one writes her an IEP. She just crashes and burns until the endof the year, at which point she fails to graduate.

It strainscredulity that in today’s day and age Brittany could flunk out as “quietly” asshe did, without anyone—including her parents, coaches, guidance counselor,and/or girlfriend—realizing she was in trouble at any point along the way.

Where werethe midterm progress reports? The report cards? The summonses to MissPillsbury’s office? The failed tests that required the signature of her parent orguardian? Santana glimpsing an F on her Spanish essay and ripping Mr. Schue agoddamn new one because who is he to tell Brittany she isn’t conjugating verbsright when he can’t tell his own ass from an ñ?

Shouldn’tsomeone somewhere along the way have noticed something was wrong while therewas still time enough left to do something about it—and particularlyconsidering that Brittany is not only a student but a student athlete?

Per the OhioHigh School Athletic Association, a student must earn “passing grades in aminimum of five one-credit courses, or the equivalent, in the immediatelypreceding grading period” of athletic competition in order to be eligible toparticipate in a varsity sport, so in theory, after she fails that first term,Brittany shouldn’t be able to compete as part of the Cheerios squad at all, letalone be one of the senior leaders.

For therecord, the real life school districts in Lima, OH require a minimum GPAbetween 2.5 and 3.0 for student athletes.

One has towonder: Where is Sue in all this? How come she doesn’t intervene once she seesthat first bad report card?

After all,Sue has no qualms concerning academic dishonesty. By her own admission, she’s meddledwith her cheerleaders’ grades for years. Why shouldn’t she simply meddle in this case, too? Wouldn’tit be in her best interest to keep Brittany eligible to compete?

Come S4, Sueherself blames a “haze of pregnancy hormones” for preventing her from noticingBrittany’s S3 academic nosedive (see episode 4x02). Another contributory factor to her negligence may be her vicious congressionalcampaign against Reggie Salazar and Burt Hummel.

However,that Sue would allow Brittany to fail still presents a narrative problem, nomatter what her excuses for doing so may be, because the fact remains that academiceligibility is an issue that extends beyond her sole purview.

OnceBrittany fails the first academic quarter of the 2011-2012 schoolyear, shebecomes ineligible to compete in interscholastic competitions. The issue is outof Sue’s hands and into those of the Ohio High School Athletic Association.Some state official somewhere has the responsibility to mark her fileand bar her from any further participation in state cheer events.

—and yetthat never happens.

Somehow,Brittany remains a cheerleader (and member of the glee club) for the duration of the schoolyear, despite not passing a single class.

It’s one ofthose lapses in believability—those “Wait a minute. That’s not how thatdevelopment would happen in real life” instances—that takes Glee out of the realmof passingly realistic fiction and into the realm of exaggeration and camp.

There’s noway that Brittany could fail an entire year of school without facing anyacademic consequences—that’s just not the way that the American school systemworks, particularly when it comes to athletic eligibility.

How comeFiggins only notes Brittany’s failures in springtime? What is going on during the fall and winter?

For the record, episode 3x19 originally aired on May 8th, 2012. Within the universe of the show, the action of the episode may take place on the same date or at least a proximal one.

By allaccounts, someone somewhere along the way should notice what’s going on—if nota faculty member at Brittany’s own school, then some official on an athleticeligibility committee, or a college cheerleading coach scouting Brittany for anNCAA scholarship, or an auditor working for the superintendent, or a rivalcheerleading coach digging for dirt on Sue Sylvester’s stars.

Someone!

But no onedoes.

I mean,that’s what the show purports.

Figgins knows enough to inform Brittany thatshe’s failing, but he doesn’t do anything to help the situation except to lectureher for neglecting her duties as the senior class president and badger her intoplanning the prom.

Will and Emma, too focused on rescuing Puck from a similarfate, seemingly remain either oblivious to or unconcerned about Brittany’sacademic woes until she’s on the verge of failing her SECOND consecutive senioryear in S4.

And Santana? She’s blindsided. Somehow, even though she andBrittany take classes together and meet up during every passing block and spendall of their spare time in each other’s company outside of school, she has noidea that Brittany is in academic jeopardy—not until Brittany springs the newson her at BreadStix just before what should be their joint graduation.

Not untilit’s too late.

That’s canonas TPTB at Glee wrote it.

It makes nogoddamn sense, but it’s what we’re stuck with.

So.

Onto thesecond order of business, then:

Thein-universe stuff.

Returning toyour original questions: Why does Brittany fail her senior year—from asituational and character perspective? How come she doesn’t work harder not tofail?

Though earlyon, Glee at times tried to play Brittany off as an accidental or even dubiousgenius—such as in the scene in episode 4x22 where she’s first shown solvingcomplex equations for the researchers at MIT—they later fully committed to herprodigy, acknowledging it as the real deal.

By episode5x12, Baby Girl is shown as being capable of tackling the Riemann Hypothesis.Her work at MIT is serious. By S6, she’s doing complex math for fun, albeitwith kitty doodles drawn in the margins. The Brittany of episodes 6x03, 6x06,and 6x08 is able to slip in facts and impressive logical arguments alongsideher usual Brittanyisms and one-liners. Her intelligence is no longer subject todebate.

So what’sthe deal with her flunking out of high school? How can someone capable ofprocessing the most complicated calculus there is fail at high school algebra?

Here’s thething: While Brittany is indeed a certified math genius, there’s not always aneat one-to-one correlation between “raw intelligence” and “academicsuccess.”

Lots offolks who are plenty bright—including many who have impressive naturalaptitudes in certain areas—fail in traditional classroom settings, even inclasses that by all accounts they “should be good at.”

Some havebehavioral tendencies that are incompatible with the classroom culture. Others findthe course materials boring, either because they already know the materialbeing taught or else because the material is being taught in a way that isn’tconducive to their learning style. Still others learn at a different pace thanwhat the curriculum may allow for, working either faster or slower. Many simplytest poorly or have trouble focusing. Organizational issues, language barriers,home circumstances (which may interfere with one’s ability to complete homeworkor come to class rested and ready to learn), individual teacher-studentdynamics, problems with bullying at school, health or disability factors, etc.,etc. may also affect one’s ability to “make grades.”

Many of thesmartest people there are have failed in formalized academic settings. Conversely,many people of average or even below average aptitudes have found ways tosucceed in the classroom. Other factors such as one’s work ethic, connection toteachers and mentors, support networks, accommodations, etc. can also impacteducational success.

In Brittany’scase, there are myriad reasons why, despite her certified genius, she fails herclasses.

For onething, WMHS is a substandard learning environment, just to start out with.

Theatmosphere there is toxic. Bullying runs rampant, with the staff either whollyapathetic toward, powerless to intervene in, or even sometimes party to theperpetuation thereof.

The administration routinely mismanages its resources,spending an inordinate amount of money to support the cheerleading and footballprograms, though lacking certain other necessities—such as a functional specialeducation department, adequate handicap accommodations, and up-to-datetextbooks.

They also hire teachers who are both underqualified (such as Will,who teaches Spanish for years despite not actually speaking the language) andfrequently abusive (such as Sue, who should literally be serving jail time forthe way she treats the student body).

Multiple times, it’s stated that theirstudents test at below average reading levels.

While only a small percentage ofwhat Sue says should ever be believed, her claims that she doctors the gradesof her Cheerios to maintain their academic eligibility to participate in avarsity sport are seemingly accurate, as Will and Principal Figgins aver that such is this case.

Not a single permanentteacher, principal, or guidance counselor at the school, with perhaps theexception of Coach Beiste, appears competent to do their job.

The hijinks ofvarious staff members and students regularly interfere with the learning day.

Rememberthat old post about JennaB. Lacey, the Hogwarts student who just wants to get a proper education but isconstantly prevented from doing so because she has the misfortune of being inthe same year as one Harry Potter, whose adventures and misadventures areconstantly interrupting her lessons and preempting her exams? Just replace “Harry Potter” with “Rachel Berry” or “SueSylvester,” and you’re basically describing the life of your average WMHSstudent.

Though wedon’t spend a lot of time following the New Directions kids through theirregular classes, the few glimpses that we do get suggest that much of thecurriculum they are subjected to is either outdated or else straight upobjectively incorrect.

While theepisode plays the situation for laughs, Holly Holliday’s points about the sexeducation at WMHS being painfully inadequate aren’t at all off the mark. Mrs.Hagberg seems to experience episodes of dementia while teaching (and is aself-admitted painkiller addict). She frequently forgets her spatiotemporallocation and has on occasion been known to teach that the Nazis won WWII. Will speaksSpanglish and buys into racist stereotypes about Latinos. Sue promulgatesconspiracy theories and unsubstantiated revisionist history, purposefullyspreading misinformation as if she were the White House Press Secretary.

Later on, inS6, it’s shown that a complete overhaul is necessary to update the school’stechnology and curriculum in order for the students to start performing up tostandards on their state tests.

—and there’sBrittany, who learns differently than most people do, stuck in the middle ofall of this chaos.

Honestly,it’s a wonder that any of the kids at WMHS achieve any kind of mainstreamacademic success. That Quinn gets into Yale and Tina into Brown is kind of ascholastic miracle, all things considered.

So she’s upagainst a lot of impediments as barriers to her learning just as a baseline.

Then add inher individual difficulties on top of the other stuff.

Brittany’sis a unique mind. It is unclear to what extent book-learning and traditionaleducation work for her. She has a tendency to metaphorize concepts, suggestingthat she is an abstract thinker. Her flair for malapropisms also intimates thather mind is organized in “webs,” with various like-words grouped together byloose strings of associations. Though she is mathematically intelligent, she isalso emotionally intelligent and physically intelligent, as well.

Early on,her genius seems highly intuitive, as she is able to pull numbers out of theair, though she is not always equally able to explain how or by what means she hasdone so. In time, her methods seem to become more examined and deliberate, withtheory underlining what was once a more reflexive capability.

She isperhaps something of an autodidact, able, for instance, to teach herselfSpanish, though she apparently doesn’t fare well in the class in high school.

Though fewpeople on the show, save Santana, realize as much, she frequently runs abouttwo or three steps ahead of everyone else in terms of her conversations andsocial maneuvers. Her zany quips and seemingly innocent demeanor throw peopleoff, to the point where they don’t pick up on just how wily and keen she canbe.

On the onehand, this phenomenon affords her some social leeway—because, after all, she’sjust “Brittany being Brittany.” On the other hand, it sometimes results inthose who fail to understand her talking down to her, infantilizing her, andblowing her off.

Frequently, both Brittany and the people who engage with herwalk away from their interactions frustrated, Brittany because she’s beencondescended to, her conversation partners because they find herincomprehensible and off-putting.

So.

Considerthat many of her teachers—including Will—seem to be confused by the way shetalks and find her irksome to deal with and so tend to be dismissive of herduring classroom discussions.

Because herintelligence is non-normative, a teacher talking about A subject can get her thinkingoff on a tangent about B subject, C subject, and D subject, and pretty soonshe’ll be blurting out a question or comment about Z subject, which from herteacher’s perspective does not relate to the discussion topic at hand and mayeven derail the lesson, distracting the other students. The teacher then eitherreacts to Brittany’s question or comment with annoyance, shutting her down(such as Ms. Hagberg does in episode 3x02); or reacts with bafflement, ignoring her andglossing over what she’s said (such as Will does in episode 1x10). Either way, Brittanydoesn’t get her questions answered or her comments responded to in aconstructive manner, which means that, invariably, she doesn’t get what sheneeds to out of class.

By the timewe first meet her as a sophomore, Brittany’s reputation as a nuisance and“numbskull” precedes her.

Her teachersmake no effort to hide their low opinions of her intelligence.

In episode2x04, everyone ribs Puck for crashing his mom’s car into an ATM and gettingarrested. Brittany joins in the fun, remarking, “He may be the dumbest personon this planet—and that’s coming from me.” Though the moment is generallyjocular, the fact that Brittany’s teacher Will says nothing to defend her toherself speaks volumes. The incident is also not an isolated one, as later inthe season, in episode 2x17, Will directly questions Brittany’s intelligence toher face (“I get the three of you being on [the Brainiacs], but Brittany?”).

Tack on allthe instances when he responds to Brittany’s comments during rehearsals (andeven her later “cries for help” during S4) with bafflement at best and disdainat worst, plus the way he clearly talks down to her as if she were a youngchild rather than a teenager, and there’s no question that he thinks she’s adolt.

And he’s notthe only member of the WMHS faculty who feels that way, either.

SueSylvester is likewise a serial offender when it comes to calling Brittany dumband infantilizing her. Ditto for Hagberg and Figgins. Though we don’t get tosee Brittany interacting with many other members of the staff aside fromSheldon Beiste, Holly Holliday, and Shelby Corcoran—the last two of whom areonly at the school briefly—it stands to reason that there are other teacherswho share the same negative attitude toward her that the featured teachers do.

At onepoint, Brittany even says that her teachers have told her that her grades mightactually improve if she were to slough her classes.

Brittany’s“stupidity” is widely viewed as a given.

Time andtime again, the show depicts people taking her intelligence for granted andassuming the worst of her capabilities. Such attitudes undoubtedly influencethe way that her teachers approach educating her. If a smart kid like Quinn orArtie isn’t grasping a concept, then teachers will try changing their pedagogyup, teaching the lesson in a different, more effective way. The same is trueeven for an average student like Mercedes. If she’s struggling, a teacher’simpulse will be to show her patience because there’s a good chance thateventually (with some hard work and extra credit) she’ll get it. But not so with Brittany, whom most teachers seem to viewas an idiot. Why slow down a class for her? Why assign different readings? Whytutor her after school? Their assumption is that she is a lost cause.

Sue potentiallydoctoring her grades—and those of the other Cheerios—also exacerbates theproblem.

Thoseteachers who are aware of Sue’s meddling, and especially the ones who have beenbullied by her into being complicit, may feel a lessened sense of obligation toreally teach Brittany or attempt to accurately evaluate her learning because,after all, no matter how Brittany performs, she’s going to be handed a passinggrade in their classes anyway.

Conversely,those teachers who remain unaware of Sue’s meddling may believe that givingBrittany a failing grade will result in meaningful academic consequences forher, which will then lead to her getting the help and attention she needsvis-à-vis the systems that are in place to prevent kids from “falling throughthe cracks.”

Of course,because Sue changes Brittany’s grades after the fact, Brittany never receivesany such help.

The systemsdon’t attend to her. Nothing in her file gets flagged. No one pulls her aside.She just gets passed along from year to year and class to class without anyoneever really taking an interest in her learning.

Either way,she’s left ill-equipped to succeed in high school.

On top ofeverything else, Brittany may also have an undiagnosed learning disability,such as ADHD or ASD. Though of course the show never states that she does havea disability (undiagnosed or not), some neurodivergent fans see in Brittany a kindred spirit whose experiences inthe public school system resemble their own.

It’sdefinitely possible that she could benefit from some accommodations.

But as faras we know, they’re never offered to her—not only because, as we learn from Sueregarding Becky Jackson, WMHS doesn’t offer special education classes, but alsobecause everyone thinks that she’s just “Brittany being Brittany,” and she’s a hopelesscase from the get-go.

So howeversmart Brittany may naturally be, she’s got alot stacked against her at WMHS, including antagonistic teachers, theabysmally low expectations people set for her, Sue’s interference with hergrades (and then the sudden cessation of that interference), her non-normativelearning strategies, and other possible factors.

Add in thatduring her senior year, she’s also dealing with some extra pressures outside ofthe classroom, and what we have is a recipe for a disaster.

Note: Ofcourse, the show deprives us of hearing Brittany talk about the aftermath ofSantana’s outing, suspension, and disowning in her own words, but HeatherMorris’s nonverbal cues show that Brittany’s upset during this period is hardfelt. It’s a stressful time in Brittany’s life, and even after the initialwounds have healed somewhat, Brittany still devotes much of mental andemotional energy to trying to ameliorate the situation, to keep Santana in agood place, to help her smile, and carry on. That’s not to say that Brittana’srelationship or Brittany’s efforts to make Santana happy cause Brittany to failher classes. It’s just to say that Brittany’s senior year is one in which shehas a lot on her mind beyond the regular cares of just being a teenager.

Thesituation as it is, it’s perhaps unsurprising that she should struggle.

However, thequestion still remains: Why doesn’t she ask for help?

No one, includingher parents, teachers, or girlfriend, seems to notice she’s academicallydrowning until it’s too late. But just because they don’t notice on their owndoesn’t mean that Brittany can’t alert them to the situation, right? So whydoesn’t she turn to Mr. Schue and say, “I need some extra help on my historyhomework,” or confide in her parents that she’s just bombed another Englishexam, or ask Santana if they can perhaps study for chemistry class together?Wouldn’t it be in her best interest to do so? Shouldn’t she want to graduate sothat she can get on with her life (and follow Santana)? Why not just reach outto someone?

Easier saidthan done.

Brittany hasspent her whole life being disparaged for “not being smart enough.” Is shereally going to admit she’s struggling to many of the same people who are activelycontributing to her struggles?

Sure,ostensibly, Mr. Schue is her teacher, and he’s supposedly an advocate for her.But can she really turn to someone who has routinely made her feel like anidiot and confess to him that she’s not understanding her classes—andespecially when she’s fully aware that, even if she were to ask him for help,he is probably not the best person to offer it, considering that he’s not actuallya qualified teacher?

The samegoes for Sue, who habitually preys upon Brittany’s vulnerabilities and has beenknown to blackmail students whenever she has any sort of leverage over them.Brittany would have to be an even bigger fool than the one people take her forin order to ask a favor of a megalomaniac of Sue’s caliber.

If Brittanywere to turn to her, the best case scenario would be that she would once againresort to doctoring Brittany’s report card—which is not necessarily an outcomethat Brittany wants. The worst case scenario would be that she would find someway to make Brittany’s life hell for having even approached her.

Brittany has to wonder: Is there any good that could come of prompting Sue totake action if she hasn’t already done so (unprompted) yet?

Not evenEmma is a safe bet, considering that she seems completely oblivious toBrittany’s plight, even though it is literally her job to be on top of it.

She doesn’t pushWill to include Brittany in his Saturday Night Fever competition alongsideFinn, Mercedes, and Santana (see episode 3x16). She isn’t present to participatein the “come to Jesus” meeting Figgins calls Brittany in for before the prom (seeepisode 3x19). Nowhere along the line does she show any concern for Brittany’sGPA, even though she has access to Brittany’s records and presumably has aprofessional imperative to counsel with her concerning her future.

If she can’tbe assed to take an interest in Brittany’s academic struggles even though she’sbeing paid to do so, then Brittany’s not going to beg her to get involved.

Her inactionhas already sent the message loud and clear: Brittany is on her own.

As for whyBrittany doesn’t turn to her parents or Santana for help, things arecomplicated on that side, too.

Since wedon’t know much about Brittany’s relationship with her parents aside from thelittle we see of it in S6, it’s difficult to say why she doesn’t approach themfor help. Maybe she fears disappointing them. Maybe she feels that they won’tunderstand why she’s failing. (They might assume she’s being lazy or goofingoff rather than facing legitimate roadblocks to her learning.) Possibly,they’re dealing with some kind of crisis of their own at the same time thatBrittany realizes that she’s failing, so she doesn’t want to “bother them” withwhat she’s going through. Perhaps she does approach them but they either can’t or won’t helpher.

There’s alsothe possibility that Brittany is reluctant to involve her parents in her issuesbecause she fears the consequences if they find out that Sue has been doctoringher grades for years. How can she explain to them why she’s gone from having apassing (and perhaps even impressive) GPA in years past to having a failing(and even abominable) GPA this year? She’d have to admit that Sue’s been fudgingher report cards to preserve her academic eligibility—and doing so might resultin her parents asking her questions that she doesn’t want to answer.

Either shewould have to say that she had gone along with Sue’s meddling (even though sheknew what Sue was doing was wrong) OR she would have to admit that Sue hasbasically been abusing and blackmailing her and the other Cheerios, making herscared to come forward about the academic dishonesty. The first option oversimplifiesthe situation. The second option is the truth but one that’s probably difficultfor her to cop to.

In any case,for whatever reason, Brittany either doesn’t bring her problems to her parents’attention or she does but they can’t (or won’t) help her.

WithSantana, things are different.

Brittanyknows that if she approaches Santana with her problem, Santana will not onlycare but also understand all of the extenuating circumstances. Santana knowsabout the Sue stuff. She also sees how teachers and other staff members tend toreact to Brittany. She’s fully aware of the injustice. She’s also fully awarethat Brittany’s genius is misunderstood—that Brittany is smart, though her smarts don’t necessarily translate to hertopping the Honor Roll every semester. Santana has the full view of thesituation, and there’s no question that she’d be sympathetic to Brittany’sissues and do everything in her power to get Brittany help, if Brittany justsaid the word.

The troubleis that Brittany doesn’t want to say the word—not when Santana has been dealingwith her own troubles, which, on the whole, from Brittany’s perspective, seem so much bigger and moreagonizing than Brittany’s own.

Brittanycan’t bring herself to interject, “Um, excuse me, Santana, but can we take a break fromdealing with you being outed the entire state of Ohio, suspended from school,disowned by your grandmother, and homophobically bullied so that we can talkabout my algebra test?;” not when she knows that if she points out that she isfailing, Santana will pump the brakes on her own plans and ambitions in orderto stand by her side.

She doesn’twant to hold Santana back when Santana is on her way out of their stifling, gay-bashingtown, onto bigger and better things. She doesn’t want to drag Santana herpersonal turmoil, not when Santana is just finally getting clear from theturmoil in her own.

—andespecially not when Brittany views her own failure as inevitable.

Yeah, shecould tell Santana, and, yeah, Santana would try to move heaven and earth tohelp her. But in the end, there’d be nothing Santana could do. Brittany wouldstill fail, not due to any lagging efforts on Santana’s part, but becauseBrittany has never been able to succeed in school no matter how hard she tried,because the whole system is rigged against her and always has been. No matterhow much effort Brittany expends to show people she’s got a fine brain in herhead—by winning a quiz bowl championship, writing for the school newspaper,becoming class president, dishing out wise advice, etc.—no one except for Santanahas ever been willing to give her a chance. They always see her as an imbecileor a child. Even Santana can’t change the status quo. So why drag her into it?

InBrittany’s view, it’s better for her to help Santana pursue her dreams outsideof Lima than to do anything that might cause her to turn back or slow down.

ThoughBrittany often projects confidence, the truth is that just like the other twomembers of the Unholy Trinity, she has some serious and deep-seated self-esteemissues. After so many years of people calling her an idiot and treating herlike a child, part of her wonders if they aren’t perhaps right (see her speech in episode 4x22).

While shedoesn’t want to believe what the haters are saying, she also can’t help butfeel that maybe she is destined for Lima Loserdom. If so, then the last thingshe wants to do is drag Santana down with her—hence why she doesn’t mention herfailure to graduate until she’s sure that Santana leaving town and going toLouisville is already a done deal.

Is refusingto seek help from anyone a wise choice on Brittany’s part? No.

But havingdifficulty asking for help is a character flaw she comes by naturally. That agirl who’s been told “no” her whole life would be scared to ask anyone to takea chance on her and say “yes” makes sense. The behavior pattern is a consistentone that she displays throughout the show, such as, for example, in S4, whenshe stages not one but two separate public meltdowns in situations where sheneeds help but doesn’t know how to ask for it (see episodes 4x02 and 4x22).

Note: Thefact that Brittany actually brings herself to ask Santana if they can seekadult help regarding their relationship troubles in episode 2x15 shows just howmuch the issue means to her. Normally, Brittany would never suggest seekingoutside counsel, but in that case she wants so badly to set things to rightsbetween her and Santana that she petitions Santana to approach Holly Holliday.Her love for Santana outweighs her fear of making herself vulnerable.

Brittanydoes want to graduate high school. She does want to be with Santana andcontinue their relationship. She wants to escape Lima. She wants to prove thenaysayers wrong. She wants to start a new life somewhere where she’s notnegatively stereotyped and looked down on by everyone. She wants to livehappily ever after with the woman she loves. She wants all of these thingsdesperately, more than anyone really knows.

But she alsodoesn’t know how to get what she wants.

She feelsboxed in and like her situation is hopeless.

So she justtailspins until she crashes.

—and thetruly tragic thing is that nobody notices what’s happening with her until it’stoo late, either because they remain oblivious (like Santana) or because theyare apathetic (like Brittany’s teachers, coaches, and guidance counselors).

Per usual,Glee tried to play the situation for laughs, but there’s really nothing allthat funny about Brittany’s academic failures at all.

Like manystudent athletes, Brittany is a kid whose physical abilities have been valuedover her learning. As long as she’s helping the Cheerios to winchampionships—and make no mistake, like Quinn and Santana, Brittany is one ofSue’s superstars, whose dance and choreography talents are one of the main advantagesthat make the squad elite—then nobody cares if she struggles in her classes.It’s all about what she can do for the school and not what the school can dofor her.

Of course,in Brittany’s case, there’s even an added element of administrative apathy atplay beyond the usual “Just pass the girl so she’s competition eligible” bit.

Because ofthe way she thinks and acts, her teachers assume that she incapable of and/ordisinterested in learning. They allow their annoyance and exasperation with herto supersede whatever obligation they might feel to provide her with a realeducation.

The sad reality is that no one’s going to go out of theirway to teach a girl that they consider a) a nuisance to have in class; b)incapable of learning; and c) someone for whom grades don’t really matteranyhow, given that she’s one of the moving parts in Sue Sylvester’schampionship cheerleading machine.

So that’show Brittany makes it through grades nine, ten, and eleven: By being passedfrom hand to hand, with the faculty and administration turning a blind eye towhat’s happening because, ultimately, no one really cares about her educationanyway.

But thenBrittany enters grade twelve, and for whatever reason this system suddenlyfalls apart. Though she has previously made passing grades—some of themostensibly without Sue’s “help”—the coursework in her senior year gets thebetter of her.

Maybe thetwelfth grade material proves substantially more difficult than the eleventhgrade material. Maybe years of inadequate learning finally catch up to her. (Ifone never masters the basics of a given subject, then one can’t very wellnavigate more advanced material, after all.) Maybe the stress in her family andsocial life so distracts her from her schoolwork that she is no longer able to juggle it all, and she ends up dropping the academic ball. Maybe herteachers finally have enough of her antics and decide to grade her punitively. Maybea confluence of issues affects her.

Whatever thecase, she fails.

That no onein the WMHS administration takes an interest in her case is a tragedy. Thatshe doesn’t feel safe enough to ask any of her teachers or coaches for help isutterly heartbreaking. Particularly when we compare her story to Puck’s, thenumerous ways in which the system has failed her become painfully apparent.

No childshould flunk out of school because her teachers find her annoying.

—andespecially not when she is willing to learn, if only given the chance.

Throughouther time at WMHS, we frequently see Brittany taking notes in her classes andvolunteering answers during lectures, incorrect though some of those answerscertainly are. She isn’t a girl who sleeps through her schooldays or cutsclasses or goofs off. She’s trying her best. And as the way she really comesinto her own after she leaves WMHS proves, she isvery much capable of learning, albeit at her own pace and in her own way.

Imagine howvery different Brittany’s story could have been if even one teacher had realizedher potential—or had even just given her a chance of any kind.

Not onlywould it perhaps have been possible for her to graduate with the rest of herclass, but her genius could have been recognized sooner. The entire course of her life could have been changed for the better.

As thingsare, Brittany eventually succeeds inspite of her experiences in the education system, not because of them.

Hers remainsa sobering story.

Anyway.

Then, toanswer your second question:

No, I don’tthink Brittany drops the “—if it were, Santana and I would be dating” line onpurpose. I honestly think it’s a slip on her part.

Here’s thething:

ThoughBrittana don’t get a lot of foreground development during S1, they do have asubtle subtextual, “in the background” storyline that centers on the tension between howSantana thinks they need to be versus how they really are.

Whilethey’re both truly happiest when they’re monogamous with each other, Santanacontinually insists that they maintain publicly visible sexual relationshipswith popular boys at the same time that they’re sleeping with each other—youknow, to project at least the illusion of “straightness.”

However,despite her interest in appearing “heterosexual,” Santana is never able to keepup her sexual relationships with boys for long. Puck inevitably cheats on her.Finn inevitably turns back to Rachel. She invariably ends up back in amonogamous sexual relationship with Brittany, who is more than happy with thearrangement, given that she and Santana are actually in love. The cycle repeatsitself ad nauseum, until eventually, between episodes 1x10 and 1x13, Santanaand Brittany fall into a prolonged period of exclusivity with eachother.

During thistime, they’re sleeping together, plus doing all of their regular “best friend”things—you know, like sharing meals and going out to movies and sittingtogether in the back of the class and writing each other cute notes andcuddling and linking pinkies and generally being, you know, GIRLFRIENDS—whichis why Brittany feels confused about the status of their relationship.

Santana hastold over and over again that just because you’re having sex with someonedoesn’t mean you’re also dating them.

But she andSantana aren’t just having sex. They’re also doing all sorts of relationship-ystuff. Plus, you know, they’re in love with each other.

So doesn’tthat mean that they’re dating?

That’s thequestion that’s in Brittany’s mind going into the infamous party line scene inepisode 1x13.

To quoteextensively from thispost:

During S1,Santana feels secure in her arrangements with Brittany as long as she maintainsa sexual relationship with Puck and he brags about it around school. As long aseveryone knows that Santana has sex with a hot boy and “likes it,” then Santanafeels safe to also have sex with Brittany, per her own druthers. Even afterSantana and Puck officially break up circa episode 1x03, things are cool becausethey still keep having sex and Puck keeps broadcasting the fact that they do totheir peers.

But then circa episode 1x10, somethingshifts.

Though Puck and Santana continue to haveintermittent sex, Puck ceases to boast of their encounters starting around episode1x10, when he begins to woo Quinn in earnest, trying to prove his worthiness asa father and partner to her.

When Puck ceases to brag, Santana getsnervous and feels as if he has rejected her. Is she doing something wrong?Doesn’t he like it anymore? Does he know her secret?

In episode 1x11, Santana sexts Puck in adesperate attempt to rekindle his interest in her, but her efforts don’t panout. Pucktana likely stop sleeping together between episodes 1x11 and 1x13,and, when they do, it likely causes Santana to fear immensely for herreputation.

Ironically, though the thing Santana mostfears in losing Puck as her beard is that people will find out the truth abouther relationship with Brittany, Santana can’t help but run to Brittany when shefeels Puck’s attentions waning. She panics her way right into Brittany’s bed,seeking the approval, affection, acceptance, and validation there that shedoesn’t get from Puck. In so doing, she probably reveals some emotionalvulnerability or even neediness to Brittany.

Considering that Brittany is in love withher, it’s hard for Brittany not to read significance into her actions and thinkthat they signal something big.

Hint: They do.

Brittany starts thinking more and moreabout what’s going on between her and Santana. Since Santana isn’t dating Puckanymore, maybe Santana could date Brittany instead.

It’s because Brittany has the idea ofdating Santana in her mind—and heart—that she blurts it out to the group in1x13.

“Sex isn’t dating.”

“—if it were, Santana and I would bedating.”

It’s Brittany voicing what’s in her heartbefore she can really stop herself.

That she has no premeditated intention ofouting herself and Santana is clear from the look on her face the second thewords leave her mouth and she realizes what she’s just said. She spoke what wasmeant to be a private thought aloud, and she’s scared to death about what theconsequences might be now that she has. She immediately glances to Santana,gauging her reaction, wondering how badly she’s just fucked up theirrelationship. Though the conversation quickly moves on from that point, herheartbeat most likely doesn’t resume a normal pace for minutes afterward.

Anyway, I’ve jabbered for a good, ol’long while now.

Thanks for the questions!

#Crazy Brittanalyst Answers #savealtonrichards #Brittanalyzing #It's been a while kids #I just want queue

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echodrops · 5 years

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I was thinking of doing an English literature degree in university and was looking into the possibility of becoming a professor. I was wondering about the process of becoming a professor. As in, what type of further degree did you have to get and what was the course load like? Also what exactly does being a professor entail? Do you do research as well as lecturing? I’m sorry for bothering you with this, it’s just that you always explain things well and I don’t know any professors in real life.

Sure, I don’t mind answering these kinds of questions at all!

What type of further degree did you have to get and what was the course load like?

For reference, I have a Masters degree of Fine Arts (in Poetry) which is, for the moment, still considered a terminal degree in the creative writing field, although the Ph.D. is becoming super popular now.

In order to teach at the college level at any accredited institution, you must have a minimum of 18 graduate level credit hours in your chosen field. I.e., you would need at least 18 credits (about 2.5 semesters) of a graduate program in English in order to teach any English college-level courses.

In today’s market, it would be extremely difficult to get any full-time teaching position without having completed at least a Masters degree, so if you want to become a professor, plan on going to graduate school.

Some good news though: Many English graduate programs are generously to fully funded, which means that you’re a lot less likely to leave graduate school with crippling student loan debt than you would be if you went to graduate school in another field like business or medicine. Don’t go to a graduate school that isn’t covering a large portion of your tuition costs. If they don’t offer you good financial aid, just say no thanks!

In terms of what degree you should pursue specifically, that depends on your interest, but three degrees that feed directly into English professor positions, in order of most likely to be hired, are:

Master in Rhetoric and Composition (this is the most likely to get you a job, but personally I would have found a degree like this boring as dirt)

Master in Literature (if you like analyzing other people’s writing, this is where you go; this degree is a double-edged sword though. You can specialize here and get into some really, really niche stuff that you love to death–but if no schools out there need your niche literary background, you may be a less appealing job candidate than the Rhet/Comp person above)

Master in Creative Writing/Master of Fine Arts in Creative Writing (if you like writing your own stuff, this is the route to go; you will come out of this kind of program fully qualified to teach general English courses. Double-edged sword again though–EVERY school needs people who are experienced in teaching English 101… Not every schools needs someone experienced in teaching, say… Introduction to Poetry)

Course load in graduate programs is more tolerable than undergraduate programs. 12 credits is the minimum to qualify as full-time in undergrad, while 9 is considered full-time for most grad programs. You’ll take fewer classes to get a Master’s degree than an Bachelor’s.

That said, be ready for a completely different vibe and expectation level. People who go to grad school aren’t fucking around. Someone in my program got a B in one of our classes and that was enough to put her on academic probation. My friend, who also went to grad school for English, got an A- that she STILL feels guilty about to this day. So it’s less classes, but the expectation is that you will bring your absolute highest effort to the table in each class and engage fully with the material. (To be honest though, I feel like a lot of graduate-level professors are more chill than undergrad professors; there were ��A” grades I worked A LOT harder for in undergrad than some of the “A”s I got in grad school.)

Also what exactly does being a professor entail? Do you do research as well as lecturing?

I’d say there are six general parts to the day-to-day job of a professor:

1) Prep. This is getting your courses ready: writing lectures, building activities, creating homework assignments, building your syllabi, picking readings, designing discussions, etc. This takes a fuck ton more time than you will ever want it to, and you always tell yourself after you get the class done once you’ll never have to do it again, but that’s a lie, because you will find yourself updating and changing things every single semester. Your mandatory “office hours” are basically just prep time since, no matter how much you beg them, students will rarely take advantage of your office hours unless you bribe or force them.

2) Actually teaching. This is your time spent in the classroom. The LEAST time-consuming part of your job. For every hour you actually spend in the classroom, expect to spend 154680060 hours doing outside stuff like grading. If you’re confident in front of crowds, this part is the easiest thing about being a teacher. If you want to get good at the actual “teaching” part of being a professor, take drama classes. Good teachers project confidence and energy at all times in the classroom, and drama teaches you how to do this much better than any public speaking class can.

3) Grading. Hell itself. It never ends. 9/10ths of your job as an English professor is just this. I envy the professors who are out of shits to give and just circle bubbles on a rubric, but I am not that person and so I comment extensively on every single one of the assignments for every single one of my students. If you’re up at 3am in the morning, it’s probably because of this!

4) Dealing with students on a personal level. The scariest part of the job. College is an extremely stressful time in a lot of young people’s lives, and especially if you are not teaching in a rich neighborhood, your students may be experiencing very significant personal, familial, financial, etc. difficulties that severely impact their mental health and well-being. You will encounter situations that you would never expect–students bursting into tears in the middle of class, students coming into your office and telling you they’re contemplating suicide, hearing graphic stories about the students’ abusive backgrounds, and being asked directly for help in situations that are completely outside of your experience level. Because there’s such an incredible stigma against therapists, many students will bring serious mental health issues to their professors long before they would ever consider going to the school’s counseling services.

5) Committees. Dear god. The committees never end. As part of your contract at most institutions, you will be expected to be performing service to the college, aka serving on committees and task forces to do all manner of things. If you’re lucky, you can get on committees you actually care about, with coworkers you like, and then they are fun. If you’re unlucky, you get “voluntold” (aka forcibly placed) on a bunch of committees that you feel completely unpassionate about and you’ll just have to deal until they complete their purpose or fizzle out. The amount of time you put into the committee has no correlation to the amount of work the committee actually gets done.

6) Research and professional development. In the .0002 minutes you have left each week, you will either be required (if you’re at a research institution) or highly encouraged to complete research, publication writing, and professional development activities. At my institution, research is highly encouraged and publication is a sure way to get in good with administration, but professional development is required, i.e. we have to participate in conferences or development trainings throughout the year to demonstrate continued efforts to discover and employ best teaching practices. This is usually a fun part, but you will never, ever have enough time for it.

The path to becoming a professor–some advice:

If you are not yet in college, pick your college based on a combination of three factors: 1) financial aid, obviously; 2) the robustness of their English department (i.e., do they have a Writing Center you could tutor at or other internship opportunities? Do they have a chapter of Sigma Tau Delta, the English honor society? Do they send undergrads to conferences? Do they have department events like essay contests and/or writing clubs? Search the school website thoroughly for info on their department--or better yet, call and talk to them); 3) the courses taught (you should be able to access the school’s complete course catalog before applying. If you read over every course the English department offers and none of them interest you, then obviously that’s not the school for you).

If you are already in college, look for opportunities that will make your grad school applications stand out–try to get a job as a writing tutor, join the English honor society, join/sponsor a writing or book club, be on the staff of your school’s literary journal, submit your work (including essays, why not) to other literary journals, take part in any competitions you can, etc. Strong involvement in your English department will make your application to graduate programs shine.

Consider planning for a day-job after grad school, at least for a couple years. The more English experience you have on your resume, the more likely you are to earn a full-time teaching position. Landing a tenure track job right out of grad school is tragically uncommon. Plan on adjuncting for a few years to get some college-level teaching experience under your belt. It’s common for adjunct professors to teach a few classes as a side-job while they do other work, such as freelance editing, to bring home the real money. Then you can translate your courses taught as an adjunct into years of experience when you are applying for full-time positions!

Phew, sorry if that was longer than you expected!

#career advice #professor #teaching English #Echo answers asks #anonymous #IRL stuff #teaching

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alittlelessdemocracy · 5 years

Text

Runaway Bunny

I started reading Isabelle Graw’s The Love of Painting over the summer, and plan to use it as the primary text in my class painting after painting this spring. I used a couple of her previous texts when I taught a version of the course last year, and found them to be productive of interesting discussion among the students. I'm excited by the fact that she's attempting something like a totalizing account of painting that is more than either a rehash or takedown of the usual dominant postwar narratives. I think she's on the right track, and I'm pretty interested in most of her interlocutors. (The conversation with Merlin Carpenter is entertaining to say the least.) Since I spent a lot of my summer trying to get caught up on Marx (a life’s work if ever there was one) I'm looking forward to the final chapter on value theory, if for no other reason than as a reward for my efforts to familiarize myself with the terms of the discussion, though I'm sure it's going to be as frustrating as it is illuminating. Other than that, I've been working my way through a lot of stuff that I've been gathering over the past year or so and finally getting around to reading: a book on modernism i started last winter, and another one called Weimar Culture - The Outsider as Insider, both by the late historian Peter Gay; Berlin Alexanderplatz - a Weimar novel sometimes referred to as the German Ulysses, and the basis of a Fassbinder film I've watched a bunch of times in the last several years; a book about the socioeconomic conditions shaping the lives of Millennials called Kids These Days - The Making of Millenials; and a couple of intense and short books - The Transparency Society, and The Burnout Society - by a Heideggerian named Byung-Chul Han. His titles are not terribly inventive, but I think his analysis of contemporary society is pretty spot on. If emergent AI is Maxwell’s Demon, Han is willing to call it by its true name. But mostly I'm excited to begin reading this book I just got by a Hegelian named Robert B. Pippin, who I first learned about from a quote of his about intention in the Todd Cronan book we read in my grad seminar a few years ago.

I like this quote from Schelling that Pippin uses to introduce his book. It's as good an account as any I can think of for the value of all the endless reading and looking - which we may as well call research, though I think I prefer the term scholarship - that feels so necessary in order to do justice to our previous and future reading and looking, even when it is bewilderingly fragmented, incomplete, out of order, and disorienting: "All effects of art are merely effects of nature for the person who has not attained a perception of art that is free, that is, one that is both passive and active, both swept away and reflective. Such a person behaves merely as a creature of nature and has never really experienced and appreciated art as art." I think if I have a problem with Graw, it's with her resistance to being swept away, and her desire to provide a historical account of the passive side of reception in socioeconomic terms, and in so doing explain it away - or so it seems to me. On the one hand, I think her demystifying negativity is crucial as a means of fortifying whatever can survive it.

According to Pippin, for Hegel thought must "tarry with" the negative to be thought at all - I think this is why he starts with the Schelling quote, and this is why I value pessimistic thinkers like Graw, Adorno, and Han, even when I don't want to agree with them entirely - probably because I start to feel like a hypocrite when I do.

On the other hand, there's an unspoken absurdity to Graw’s whole enterprise (not to mention mine) if she is correct: if painting is just a convenient mystification of economic and social conditions, then who needs it? Capitalists, apparently, but that's hardly a defense.

I think she provides a great justification for art criticism, but it's at the expense of art that isn't itself mostly a form of critique (like mine.) To be honest, I still mostly prefer Cronan, Clark, and Silverman, who all write with more passion, but also more critical distance (perhaps it helps to get some distance on what one’s doing in order to be able to trust the feelings one has about it.) They all provide richly descriptive and analytic accounts for the contextual basis of painterly poetics without reducing them to an illusion, which is kinda what I think she does - at least in her work on painting...High Price is another thing entirely.

There's a vulgar Hegelianism underneath it all which I think she evades by pretending to be a journalist rather than a theorist when it suits her. It looks like humility, and maybe it is, but it rings false to me. She also provides a justification for this gesture, tracing it back at least as far as Vasari in the sixteenth Century. This saves her from the difficult task of defending the kind of reductive and often unappealing prescriptions (Andrea Fraser good, Daniel Richter bad, say) that would follow from making her underlying value judgements more explicit - she leaves that emotional labor to artists like Carpenter - who provide her text with the the kind of liveliness she says we project onto paintings...which points to another problem with the text. Her thesis doesn't only - or even most effectively apply to painting - which she defines so broadly it almost loses all meaning as a category: it's one of several enduringly convincing ways of engaging with any cultural artifact - particularly writing (see Of Gramatology) - particularly, if not only, in the Western context...which is odd, given the fact that of all the art forms, writing is perhaps the most collectively determined, the most inhabited (or haunted by) all the possible permutations of the ready made. But if I have to choose between the absurdity of her critical ouroboros which takes a love of painting for granted while attempting to undermine the basis of that love by accounting for it in external terms - emptying it of joissance, and the absurdity of naive naturalism which always wants to hide its love from the negativity of thinking - and so make it nothing but an attempt at escape, of which of course there is none, I'll always be more engaged by the passion for endless critique - so long as it's lively and ambitious - even if it's constitutionally unable to reflect transparently on its own passionate project of dismantling - a silence about its own creative destructiveness which opens it up to a deeper negativity which is something like its unconscious.

Ultimately, it's that frustrating lack in the center of the project that makes it engaging. It's like the opposite of what they say in AA: keep coming back, it doesn't work! Or maybe it does work, if we take “work” to mean something like ongoing, socially necessary labor, rather than the accomplishment of a solution to a problem: the working of a problem rather than the closing of it..though if the problem of painting is the kind of pseudoproblem suggested by Graw, then the work is not really work at all, or at least, not the kind of productive work it takes itself to be. I think if Graw were really convincing (or convinced) by her own skepticism there'd be no point in engaging with her doubts - even for her. There must be some reason she hung out with Kippenberger besides mere journalistic curiosity. The fact that she was there and is still there working out the details of what she witnessed and continues to participate in implies that she was and is more than an observer, as are we all. A definite strength of her approach is that she admits as much, even if she can’t quite account for her investment without admitting that she too is entranced by art’s mystifications.

I think the tone of Graw’s writing is symptomatic of the fact that we can no longer in good faith tarry with Fried's or Silverman's outright defense of grace, and we think we're too smart about power to let someone like Greenberg or Kraus (or Foster, or Joselit) tell us what the limits of the situation are without protesting: what about all the art outside the western context for instance (whatever that can really mean in an increasingly globalized world) or all the former outsiders who are now insiders, to borrow a phrase of Peter Gay’s...so she doesn't do either of those things, but she chooses insider objects and interlocutors who do some of that work for her - externalizing the cost of her commitments, and capitalizing on the surplus value her avatars produce.

Ultimately, I'm with her enacted commitment to unpacking through writing and witnessing. And I definitely don’t object to her spreading the work around - as she points out, this is how work gets done in a networked context. Here I’d want to call on Freud and the transference to broaden and deepen the meaning of this working through together - this mutual interdependence for the sake of the great work - whether we call it Thought, Art, Spirit, Being, or Cure - to remind us of the fact that we/it may seem new, but it’s only new to our perception that we’ve always been working in a networked context. And I like that she doesn’t rely on invisible labor that obscures the social hierarchy: all of her interlocutors are peers of equal or greater status.

In other words, I appreciate how much she appears to show her work - including the social work that is usually left hidden. (For instance, this post began as an email to a friend, as have a lot of my recent posts. I don’t borrow their words, but I borrow their subjectivity, insofar as I rely on my anticipation of their specific receptivity when I “speak” (that is, play with words on my desktop, in solitude, but never entirely alone.))

This is mostly why I read: If Marx is right, that the value of a commodity is determined not by the labor that went into it, but only by the socially necessary labor time that went into it, then it only makes sense for anyone engaged in intellectual/spiritual labor - which is also a form of play - to outsource as much of it as possible - to be an effective team player - and to benefit from the perceptions, judgements, and thoughts of others in order to contribute most effectively - honestly, rather than self-deceivingly, indulgently, solipsistically - to the larger project, which is both personal, practical, political, spiritual, ethical and aesthetic - both social and solitary - solitude having something to do with an irreducible labor that can not be exchanged or externalized, the work that must be done alone, even if some of its costs can and must be shared by others in order for the work to be effective and not mere wasted effort. In other words - it is our duty and our privilege to respect our own subjectivity and acknowledge its entanglement and interdependence with the subjectivity of others. It is incumbent upon us to make the most of our time here - not to waste this opportunity - which is time: not to waste our own time, and not to waste anyone elses.

For instance, just because it sometimes takes me a year to finish a painting - or days or months to write something worth sharing with strangers - it doesn’t mean it’s worth more than a painting or a text that took five minutes to produce. Unless there is something genuinely necessary in that time I spent, and this not just for me alone, but for my work in relation to others doing work on the same problem, then that time is wasted, without return.

And aren’t the historical ethics of painting as described by Graw - freshness, liveliness, even grace - all wrapped up in this same sort of question of economy which tends to reverse the puritanical love of work for its own sake, which it so often makes a mockery of (in it’s most extreme case in the work of Duchamp) demonstrating the love of work without purpose as a kind of perversion - a fetishization of suffering? Suffering is instructive, and endurance can be a virtue - patience certainly - but never as a thing in itself - only in relationship to a desired end - even if that end is loose and deferred. In this way painting has always been spiritually capitalist insofar as it treats any unnecessary labor as the original sin - that is - the opposite of investment, which raises again the question of waste and expenditure, consumption and production - of time, and of value.

All things being equal, in painting, as under capitalist forms of production, the burden of proof is on the one who would choose to spend time unproductively. This is why we ritually abuse the proverbial garret - not because solitude is to be mocked, but because our mutual dependence and actual community of spirit must be respected.

The revolution rests on the question of how we frame the question of value and production. Painting is both regressive (insofar as it implicitly models the notion of Return on Investment) and revolutionary (in that it tends to relativize the question of productivity - its investment is not one in survival, but in meaning.)

I think the most important work we do as artists and scholars is the work we do to discover what other work (besides survival) needs to be done. Sometimes this involves reading and writing. Sometimes it involves abstaining from both in order to work with our hands, or submit to a process that requires that we spend a great deal of time doing very little, or very little time doing a great deal. But insofar as time is not ours to spend as we see fit - that is, insofar as we give in to the very real and costly social pressure to always be visible, present - that is distractable, demonstrative, lively, reinvesting our being in immediate production determined by others, mediated by corporations - then our production is not our own. We become the productivity of some other.

Time is everything, and how we choose to spend it and to what ends is what we are.

Work is expensive, and “truth is work.”

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yuissamidare · 5 years

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@codes i think i may have put this on my artblog but... Here

i guess ill start w ichi bc i always forget about him somehow like i always come up short when im making lists and im like 'oh wait shit yeah that guy’ bc im stupid n i only think of fishing trio + choro. I’m an Idiot. idk i never thought too hard on ichi bc i so rarely think about him but he looks so high its really funny i said this on main but he looks like my friend when he decided to try a weed gummy bear then started babbling about hentai then watched to watch porn with me but got mad all the intro scenes are a billion years long and started ranting about the industry but now that i think about it he looks like someone who used to send me weird shit when he was high like bad pick up lines about body parts i wish i didnt have

and thats so funny that its Ichimatsu who looks like that but also proof that hes high. but anyway!! hes really cute and im mad hes boutta ruin my reputation for my complete and utter lack of care and interest in him no matter what im mad. my friend gwyn said 'Sp lubing us up for the fuckening that is the reason why Ichi is sad in present day’ im really curious at the change like if hes trying a fake it till you make it type thing bc really emotionally exhausted or if hes just genuinely having a good time or hes puttin on a front since like. nails who stand get hammered down right??? just gotta do your best n Never Relax n i can relate to all that. but uhhh old hcs i guess

in kun ichi was the most serious! really smart but just as bad w school as the rest of them apparently but!! yeah so id think that!! ichis that guy who participates in class discussion constantly and is always willing to debate the readings, but turns in sloppy papers with typos and no a coherency or stucture or anything. he’s A+ in participation but has an average of 60% on most of the written assignments with points knocked bc of lateness then more bc its A Mess. you could ask about the prompts for one of his papers, he could babble about his position on it complete with paragraphs and footnotes but like the day before its due hes playing rpgs and watching horror movies.

his classmates think hes so smart n so intimidating. the family knows hes a hot mess. the teachers tell him he has a lot of potential but they don’t think hes applying himself. all are right. also he doesnt cheat or let people cheat off of him since hes always been about rules and boundaries and Rightness n he n jyushi were the only ones who Minded Themselves in kun

uhh jyushi!! let me talk about schoolwork again bc yeah i love jyushi so so so so much and thinking of him in a school environment is so weird i thought about it a lot n i thought about it him in kun n san and Woah!! i really really love delinquent jyushi, bc when i saw that i was like 'huh! that fits actually!!’ i love that like him and choro flip flopped completely from what i thought. his school must be so cold theyre too cheap to afford heating in the winter and in summer the acs Blast. he was so Shy and quiet and he cried and he liked to sing so i always thought that when he participated in chorus festivals hes always like right in front!! he hums a lot in class and also moves around alot bc he actually like school and people like primary trio are the types that make friends often. i wasnt supposed to talk about this yet whoops.

unlike ichi who relatively neat despite everything but has shit notes, jyushis notes are amazing and understandable and utterly illegible.

theyre covered in doodles, arrows and lines leading every which way, different colors but not like color coded n theyre not in order by date, but he opens to a random page every time yet somehow always seems to know where to find each lesson. he writes footnotes and caveats and corrections and criticisms of the teachers and random thoughts and just smears ink everywhere. sometimes his notes are on a completely different subject. the notebook itself is a horrifying mess, the front and back covers both covered in drawings and designs and falling apart, random papers shoved between the pages, coming apart at the seams, covered in stains of unknown origin. assignments are full of emoticons and informal language, and they always manage to make his teachers feel like hes smarter than they are (most likely). he does his projects the minute theyre assigned, and is finished a minute later so can talk to his friends. he loved school.

sophie told me once about how she thought was Like That was bc one of his main concerns is that he thought he had nothing that made him Jyushi n in kun she said he might have been the one who was the most concerned about having a distinctive personality and i talked about how that sorta carried over san and how he always blended in bc of how gentle and soft and push-overy he was. he was actually the and most gullible and weakest in kun so i was like :0 when i saw that and intentionally did stuff like only carry 14 yen in his pockets to be quirky but it always sorta fell flat and he was still invisible so i was like hmmmmm. and i can see how he couldve toughened up and thinking of this now!! i love that. oh im so happy. this is so much better than i ever couldve imagined ever.

totty…. i do not think he was very popular or good at school. i think he’s very decent at schoolwork but he never put much effort into it. just copies whats on the board but if the class runs out of allotted lesson time n he couldnt finish his work he just didnt do it like cram schools a pain in the ass. if he put effort hed be a star student but he just craps out whatever since hes was the laziest!! oh but something i noticed was that him and jyushi would play together often since sometime he felt overwhelmed by karamatsu a lot. also hes the money thief and scammer its great kun todo is so good. he gets shy and flustered easy too!!

but uhh yeah!! depending on the day im always like 'zaimoku love each other so much they are best friends and the perfect other halves!!’ then im like 'these mofos hate each other what the fuck is this trainwreck’ did you see their shitty small talk in the horse episode. what was that. like they are genuinely trying to communicate and are pretty easy with each other but they have nothing to say. its like when youre having a boring day at school and theres nothing to talk about with an acquaintance so you just look at the walls and go 'have you ever noticed how stupid these posters are’ then you both start reading posters aloud but you both know its not that funny and youre just doing it to waste time but you still enjoy their company you just dont want silence. thats their relationship. and i think they are just very similar in very different ways and like. the key things that make them both similar and different and the same fuck them up (like suiriku!! theyre both really similar even if it doesn’t seem like it at first which is why their compatibility in the relationship chart was so low in s1, but i saw a lot of improvement in both of their behaviours and their communication and honestly. s2 was worth it for that sophie was so happy to see her faves get along) like sometimes when you look in the mirror all the things you see are the things you dont like about yourself instead of what makes you wonderful and unique. also i didnt mean to talk about this but i guess i am.

but yeah. totty is bitter n resentful at kara during hs n karas more confused and upset at tottys behaviour in their twenties n thats bc like i said. theyre dumb. karamatsu!! i think was actually pretty popular in highschool n had a good amount of friends - i genuinely think theatre kids are well liked bc i literally know everyone in my department and im friends w a good amount of people and im not even That extroverted. my actual extrovert friends know everyone in the school by name and everyone in my department is so nice even though theres a lot of bitchiness and drama its not as bad as w other humanities studies (jesus christ humanity students outside of theatre are a hot mess.)

uh yeah n that ultimately makes totty feel a bit… betrayed? karamatsu is his partner! theyre supposed to be there for eachother! kara’s the first one to branch out, get friends etc etc and todomatsus left behind bc hes always the one playimg follow the leader and he breaks out of that once they graduate - he grows up resenting karamatsu slightly though he still cares. but this time Hes the one cancelling plans to hang out with friends instead. my friend katie put it best when, in response to me telling them this, they sent me:

'kara: totty you have so many friends now. We barely see you anymore.

totty, applying chapstick: well, I learned it from the best.’

when i told them about it. but at the time gwyn and i were babbling about possibilities and different storylines and how theres a possiblity the movie might break down into three manageable plotlines n she gave zaimoku 'popularity’ and this was me throwing out ideas but honestly. Good. (aha, the end of this scenario ended up with todo throwing hands and shoulder checking someone outside a window and then getting removed from the premise n hanging with atsushi all night after) why am i on this. shit what happened here.

uhh but yeah totty is Def someone with learned behaviours rather than being a natural extrovert honestly just look at him hes an introverted mess masquerading as a decent human being and i know full well how people like that are bc some of them have been my best friends for years n seein the new hs promos solidifies that fact bc look at him. Crybaby. He is Miniscule. A Child.

then its 'delinquent who looks like an honour student’ choro. i never studied him until sophie started liking choro n since i love sophie i wanted to take an interest in him too. n i started to think very hard about him! then gwyn planted this in me n its taken root and im just never not gonna think its great. yall see his shitty gokudo impression what a bossy lil shit. he pulled a whip on kara once and it was mad funny but also Gwyns Big Evidence for him just being the absolute worst not like a casually skips class type but a Choro was a legit a bully and really mean n sabatoged other classmates to make him look like he was 100% That Bitch. maybe not him being Mean and cruel but just an asshole who bums around, is something i really like that one a lot its been one of my faves since gwyn n i started talking about it but i just!! have a ton of other things too!!

hes a lot like karamatsu in that theyre both stupid and weird and embarrassing and they put on airs but they also!! dont try!! they talk so big and such high goals n expectations and they dont do shit bc they have so much hubris but i always talk about them bc suiriku is sophies Beloved so ill like. Not. but he acts like he’s better than all of them n forces the role of the straight man on himself because he wants to be seen as the responible, level headed one even if hes just. So Much.

i think the movies calling back to how touchy feely and clingy he was in kun and adding on to how jyushis a delinquent and kara… Is Like That he’ll be around them the most bc jyushi might either be really protective or push him away and then they do something to mend their relationship later on or hell cling to kara and they just. grow apart. sticking to my hc until the end bitches. oh.

for choro… personally!! i thought hed be a slacker instead of a delinquent but not in the way totty slacked - totty was lazy n knew the work but didnt want to put in effort but choro just. Doesnt. choro has so much energy all the time and choro Can Not deal with school situations. bc like… you always hear people say that studying is meant to be done at the desk, silently, no distractions what so ever!! focus on notes and nothing else!! ise a highlighter but dont use it too much!! make your notes legible but you only have five minutes before the board gets erased!! review!!! look at your notes or youll die! take breaks bit dont take too long and honestly. listen. kun choro wouldnt be able to stand that shit and id think hed just think he was doing it The Wrong Way n he just wasnt meant to do it.

he doesnt like quiet classrooms!! he cant study like that and hell get distracted. he cant sit still n thats why totoko broke up w him in the beer ad and why hes just Everywhere in kun!! hes understimulated and its just Ugh! you know??? he’ll fidget w his pens until he breaks them or hum or tap his foot and annoy everyone or leave for the bathroom at least three times a class just to get up and move.

eventually he just. gives up even though hes super smart he like, stops caring bc if you dont care to understand material then you wont have to read and read and reread and rereread something to get it! classes just make everything uncomphrehensible and makes any idea he may have sublimate into nothing. but he can work on the trains and the buses! he needs something kenetic to get him moving and trains n shit always have enough going on to work with, just like with home!! chorochoro motherfuckers. he works much better moving forward, ironic as that is. he feels sorta set apart from every thing like hes behind some big plane of glass doing everything wrong and being all set apart from everything. eventually he takes to acting like a real fussy mom to avoid his own problems and help everyone else out even though hes annoying and even when he graduates but it gets Worse bc then figures out how much!!! he fucked up!! then he kicks himself into high gear n still cant do shit. ahh.

its illegal for me to talk about choukei bc i talk about them so much and im always being annoying n typing stupid essays about them bc theyre… my faves.. But this is so long…

it actually makes me super happy that he kara acne he still can be really fighty and he cries and he still does stupid impulsive shit for others and even though hes really sweet and caring is still an utter monster and fucking mess of a person. love him. i always like to think his shittymatsu nickname came from iyami n it just morphed from there bc in 66 you can hear iyami calling him specifically garbage. ive always been glad they kept his sewing hobby too. ahh, actually from what i see hes pretty similarities to kun so i wonder when he decided to air out that teremity. idk what to say about him that i havent in tottys section. he just Feels like someone who had a good support group and nice friends bc of how hes able to move in the world. kara feels like some whos doing their growing up in their twenties bc highschool came easy to them and now theyre just really struggling with the real world. like i shouldve expected softboy hs kara and i appreciate him very much!! i talk about choukei a lot bc they were the first characters that spoke so i immediately attached myself to them n i talk about karamatsu Specifically but im not sure i ever mentioned how much i appreciated how smart and cautious hes proved himself to be time and time again, like how hes the only one to point out totokos fish shtick aint doing her favours or how he was the first one to notice osos irritation n how you can pick out his voice warning jyushi to calm down in the bg of 24 or how in the comedian episode he was ready to take Notes from iyami and a lot of other small things!!

i would think hes actually a bit more serious n calm in hs and san is him amping up traits that drew people to him in hs and it backfiring on kara spectacularly - kara is always gauging people and their reactions and acting in a way he believes will get something positive, but at the same time is utterly oblivious when it comes to actually Getting them n i talked about the girls on the bridge but this is also prevalent with ichi who kara just. Doesnt Get and can not figure out how to maneuver their relationship. like oso, kara is and elder brother!! and elder brothers have an image theyre supposed to uphold, but while kara acts the part he doesnt do the shit a big brother does and shrugs that responsibility off on oso until oso fucks up until s2, where they share the role more evenly and his relationship with ichi improves but this is another essay entirely. what im trying to get with that is that hyperfocus on what other people think of him, but his complete disregard when it comes to their actual reaction and instead what he wants their reactions to be would also greatly impact him transtioning from a teen to an adult im sorry im getting sloppy now

osomatsu… i really adore him too much and i understand how totty felt in their episode bc i also lent my phone to a friend who needed to desperately jack it before meeting new people n i talk about him a whole lot too. hes mean and an asshole and garbage n i know a lot of people find him plain n boring but idk. i dont think thats the case hes a really complexed n nuanced character n hes literally has always been way back from kun n thats expected from a main character but… hes always been mean n dumb n sly and he can get so pathetically vunerable and thats literally!! him. hes a normal dude nothing wrong with that n it can be real refreshing. n i suppose im so fond of fishing trio+choro bc they remind me of my friends. but yeah even if hes 'plain’ i dont see why thats a bad thing. n this they always have the most interesting body language like despite kara being So Much his body language was always closed off n singled him out as everything But exuberant and bright, and osos quirks like how he stands on his toes a lot had always been so cute… its relaxed and open n screams Talk To Me!!!!

ahh but i always end up thinking oso was. oso??? theres not much to say that i havent before but i do think that he was a lot more like he was in episode 2 when ranting to chibita about having shitty brothers and then actively Chose to be a good brother even if he wasnt a good person and be a stable rock and be someone they could all come back to at the end of the day. and hes good at math im never letting this die.

#now im sleepy fmxbfbc #mbbbaf #i didnt talk about oso much im ao tired

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surveys-at-your-service · 5 years

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Survey #190

“i haven’t slept since i woke up.”

Do you prefer your nails long or short? Why? Short. It's annoying how long ones tap when I type and such. Are you still in touch with your best friend from high school? No. Have you ever visited any celebrity gravesites? No. How do you feel about archaeology? Cool as shit. What are your thoughts on gun control? Don't outlaw them, but make them much harder to obtain. Have you ever had an exotic pet? Do snakes and lizards count? Have you ever had to block people online for harassing you? Yes. What kind of socks do you prefer to wear? (Crew, ankle, knee, etc) Idk, the normal ones. Are you friends with anybody you didn’t like at first? I'm dating her lmao. What is your favorite thing to do on The Sims? Don't play it. Have you dyed your hair more than once (and different colors)? Yup. Which hair color you’ve had has been your favorite? Red or purple. Your favorite place to be aside from your home? Sara's house. If you were stupid-rich, would you ever actually want a mansion? Omg no. Did you ever sit alone at lunch in school? I did that a lot. Did random people come sit with you to try to be nice? I don't believe so. Do you know anybody who puts ketchup on their mac n cheese? Probably, and they need to be arrested. What is your least favorite beverage? Out of everything I've ever tasted, some kind of white wine. Any old home remedies you use when you’re sick? The classic sipping on ginger ale. When was the last time you wore a full face of makeup? Forever ago for a picture. Do you own an iPad? No. What’s the most hours you’ve worked in a week? N/A Do you believe in karma? No. What’s an achievement you hope to see humanity accomplish in your lifetime? See great improvement in the health of the ozone and see the work put towards conservation beginning to show well. Do you have a difficult time relating to other’s emotions? NOPE. Have you ever bathed in a river or a lake? No. Have you ever had a dream in which you died? Yes. What was your favorite school subject when you were in middle school? Science. Do you wish vampires existed? um no the fuck At the moment what is your favorite song? I'm on a "Stressed Out" by TOP thing. Have you ever been pantsed? No. Do you keep up with pop culture? No. Did you ever like barbies? Do you currently like barbies? Not especially, but I played with them if my sis or friends wanted to. I've no interest in them now. What turns you off in the opposite sex? Everyone fancies the opposing sex??????????? That's news to me. But whatever, arrogance, for one. What kind of gum do you chew most often? Your favorite flavor? Probably uh... really idk. I don't buy it and will just take what someone offers. My fave flavor is watermelon or strawberry. What’s your favorite hit song right now? I have noooo clue what's hot rn. Well, I heard "High Hopes" by P!atD on the radio not too long ago, which I adore. Do you ever ask random questions to see people’s reactions? No. Do you like to people watch? Not particularly. Are you a very patient type of person? NO. NO. N-O. NOOOOOOOOOOOOO. What’s your favorite element? (fire, water, air) Fireee. Do you have a Zwinky? IMVU? No. Have you ever had a Neopets? Yesssss, my computer addiction began there lmao. When you were younger didn’t you just love Pokemon? ADDICT. Do you currently love Pokemon? YESSSSSSSSSSSSSS. Have you ever been to a wild party? No. How many friends do you have on Myspace? Hell if I know. Are you one of those people who get car sick? No. Have you ever gotten sea sick? No, but I've never been out on the ocean for long. Do you put on a robe when it’s cold? Don't have one. Has anyone ever told you that you & your significant other could be siblings? Have they ever assumed you were siblings? Mom's called us twins like a million times. Idk if anyone's assumed that. Have you ever attempted origami? Are you good at it? Do you enjoy it? What’s your favorite origami to make? No. Are you more likely to like someone before you really know them, or do you feel you like them more after you know a lot about them? Hmmmm, I suppose this depends on what I learn about the person. Do you buy people cards on special occasions, or do you prefer to make your own? WELP I don't make my own money and tbh I'm too much of a lazy shit to make them. Don’t you hate when people say that you & them should get together, but they don’t even make the effort to? I can't speak here, I do it too. Social anxiety holds me back from trying to plan things. Where on your body was the last cramp you had? Why did you have this cramp? Uhhhh probably my lower abdomen because female with a sadly operating uterus. Do you get embarrassed when people hear you sing/compliment you on your singing ability? If so, why is that? YES. Idk why. Do you own one of those singing fish? Do you think they are silly or funny? No, but they make me chuckle now bc of that video of a broken one channeling Satan. Have you ever caught someone stealing from you? Did you confront them? No. When was the last time you prepared extensively for something? Did your preparation pay off? Ha, first trip to Sara's... I WAY overpacked. Have you ever had a crush on a teacher/professor? Did you act on your feelings? No. Have you ever experienced culture shock? Not seriously. Going to Illinois, Chicago in specific, was incredibly different for me, but I wouldn't classify it as "shock." How did you discover your greatest passion? Y'know I'm not even totally sure what my greatest one is. Do you believe that all art is political? No????? Have you ever had a conversation with a cab driver? Never even been in a cab. Do you have any shirts from vacation/tourist locations? Not anymore. Do you know anyone who has never read the HP books? Who? *cautiously raises hand* Do you ever visit your mall’s arcade (if it has one)? Doesn't have one. Our mall is literal shit. If you lost the use of your limbs, would you still want to live? NOPE please fucking kill me. Not even an exaggeration. What’s your absolute favorite topic to discuss? M-M-M-Mark. :') Though odds are I'd be shy talking about him because I am quite obviously not just a "yeah he's cool" fan okay I get self-conscious. What is your least favorite topic to discuss? Economics. What is your opinion on psychics? Real, or fake? Fake. How would you rank your “class participation” in school? Normal? I asked questions if I really needed help, I'd sometimes answer questions or help read aloud, stuff like that. Have you ever cut your own hair? How about anyone else’s? No to both. What is the last thing you asked your parents to purchase for you? Fast food lunch. What is your favorite kind of lunch meat? Ham. Have you ever been confined to a wheelchair? No, thankfully. If you have a job, who’s your closest friend at work? N/A Do you have any exercise equipment in your home? Very few things. Were your parents born in the same country they now live in? Yes. How many living grandparents do you still have? One. Have you ever heard people having sex in the next room? Yes, or at least pretty sure. Have you ever been on a strict diet and exercise regime? Diet, no, but I stuck to a serious exercise plan during one summer. Do you have a favorite author? No. How long do you usually take in the shower? Not even ten minutes. Get my shit done and get out. Have you ever worked in an office? No. What is your favorite way to eat rice? Fried. Have you ever been in serious trouble at work or school? No. Have you ever kissed anyone under the mistletoe? Yes. What’s one unusual little thing that you really enjoy? Uhhhh. What’s the biggest bruise you’ve ever had? Not sure. Is there anything that people always tell you that you should do? Become an artist or publish writings. Have you ever broken up with someone and then regretted it later? No. What’s the background picture on your phone? Do you change it a lot? Lock screen is meerkat pups cuddling, home screen is Sara kissing my cheek. :') Have you ever taken someone back, who ended up just hurting you again? Not in a romantic sense. How do you feel about shaved pubes? No opinion. Can young people fall in love? If not, why not? Absolutely, I did. What’s your opinion on masturbation? Do it if you so feel the need, but not at all for me. Those experiences are exclusive to me and my partner. What is your favorite Queen song? ummmmmmmmmmmmmmmMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM obviously "Bohemian Rhapsody"??????????????? Have you ever “spoken” to any celebrities via Twitter? No. Do you eat cereal bars? No. Do you know any immigrants? Off the top of my head, only an illegal family. Have you ever lived in university or college accommodation before? No. If you haven’t already, are you scared of leaving home? If you have, do you like it? I'm both nervous but keen to. Do you know how to look after yourself away from home? (budget, pay bills, feed yourself, cook, clean, do laundry etc.) ^ this is why I'm nervous lmao. If you could only eat one vegetable for a year (not including potatoes) what would it be? Broccoli. Do you have a certain routine in the bath or shower? What is it? Shave, wash hair, use my facial scrub, and then body wash. Do you prefer chicken burgers or beef burgers? Beef. Would you ever eat kangaroo steak? No. What’s the weirdest meat you’ve ever eaten? Nothing too odd. Is there a chalkboard or whiteboard anywhere in your house? There's a whiteboard in the kitchen. Do you like dried fruit at all? What’s your favorite type? NO. Who lives across the street from you? Nobody; there's a field there. When you were in college, where was the coolest place to hang out? N/A Who did you go to prom with? Jason. What was your first vehicle’s name? Never had my own car, wouldn't name it either. What was the name of the first person you ever had a crush on? Why did you like them? Dylan. I thought he was cool and funny and at that age found him god-tier hot lmao. What do you think you cook or bake the best? Just scrambled eggs. Have you considered running for president? Definitely not. How old is the most expired item in your fridge? Idk??? If I was aware something in there was expired, I'd throw it out. What’s the saddest song you’ve ever heard? "Hurt." Johnny Cash's cover absolutely ramps up the emotional aura to it tenfold. How about the sweetest song? "Here For You" by Ozzy Osbourne. How many bones have you broken? None. Have you ever won anything? Big or small? Yeah. Small things, but I consider the SH:R things to be pretty damn big personally. If you could buy one material thing, and money was not an issue, what would it be? Front row tickets for Mom to Metallica. Concert is the end of this month, and after seeing her lose her fucking mind in ecstatic tears upon finding out they were coming, I'm legitimately depressed for her that we're missing it. What food will you absolutely not, under any circumstances, eat? Sashimi. What’s the best way to comfort you when you’re having a really terrible day? Watch some of my favorite Mark videos, listen to the SOTC or SH2 soundtracks, bring me my favorite Reese's bar, ha. Has anything/anyone ever saved your life before? Yes. Jason first, then the partial hospitalization program as a whole, Mom, and two of my medications. What is one thing you’re embarrassed to admit you want to try? Hm. I guess a vibrator lmao. What is the most important memory you have and why? Realizing I could live *happily* without Jason. Obvious why that's important. Which famous person would you like to be BFFs with? Shane Dawson is my Dad. Is there something you wish you had said sorry for but never did? To certain people. Are you embarrassed by your school yearbook photos? I literally only remember liking one lmao. Who taught you to tie your shoelaces? Mom and Dad both. Do you think dimples are cute? YEAH What’s something you used to collect when you were younger? Stickers, then to a less degree seashells. At one point of your life, have you been obsessed with dinosaurs or robots? I was craaaaaaaazy about dinosaurs as a kid. I still love them. What was the last thing you cooked on the stove? Scrambled eggs back when Sara was here in June... lmao. Have you ever not canceled plans and wished you had? Probably. What is something you were scared of as a kid? Animatronics. Still not a fan. Would you rather write a story or a poem? I'll actually finish a poem. But I mean our RP is a really just a big-ass story and I write for it way more than anything. Are you moving soon? No. Do you get nervous around the opposite gender? Always. This fear of men thing's gotta go. Did you ever have a ‘security blanket’ when you were younger? Yes, a stuffed bunny hugging a little polka-dot blanket. What is your lucky charm? Don't have one. What time does your dad usually wake up in the morning? Well, I don't live with him. But he's a mailman, and if his schedule's the same as it was when my parents were together, early. Name the craziest moment of your life: I guess it depends on your definition of "crazy." But I suppose the night of the breakup when I left the house in the dead of night to walk to his house to talk as Mom wouldn't take me. It's a seven minute drive so would've taken a long time to get there, but I didn't care. Mom eventually went after me and kept cutting my path off with the car until I just collapsed sobbing. That was a fucking ordeal. I wouldn't wish that night on anyone. Do you want to travel? YES. Do you plan on having children? No. Who did you last say I love you to? Sara. Do your parents actually knock on your door before entering your room? Mom, no. Dad did. What can’t you wait for? "Can't wait," idk, but I'm looking forward to my birthday. Do you have a bad temper? No. It's hard to make me mad. What brand of digital camera do you own? Nikon. Have you ever seen a Broadway show in New York? No. Are you listening to music right now? "Angel Eyes" by New Years Day ft. Chris Motionless. When was the last time you were told you were cute? I have no clue. Have you ever wished to be an Internet celebrity? How about a ‘real’ one? No. Have you ever been kayaking? No. Do you care overly about other people? Some. What is your favorite family tradition? We don't even have any anymore, it seems. Do you make friends easily? No; I'm way, way too reserved and shy. Do you make enemies easily? Or do you not have any enemies at all? I'd like to think I don't have any. Do you think its likely that humans will go extinct in the next 1000 years? No. Eh, maybe, if we do nothing about royally fucking up the environment. If you have tattoos, how long have you had them? Uhhhh I got my first for my 18th birthday, idr how old my second is, "ohana" is like, two years old or something, my fourth is a year old, Sara's tattoo is from last June, and my latest one was a good few months ago. How old are your next-door neighbors? All I know is elderly. I've never even seen the ones on the other side of us. What did your family usually do for Easter when you were a kid? Easter egg baskets, the egg hunt, and church. What’s the largest bug you’ve ever found in your house? Omg probably this long-ass centipede that was on my door at our old house. Have you ever bought a YouTuber’s merch? BITCH you bet I will be decked the fuck out when I have my own source of income. I never ask on Christmas or my birthday 'cuz it's embarrassing lmao. Pick a flavor: pumpkin or apple? Apple. Do you think oatmeal tastes better when made with water or milk? I only eat it with milk. It sucks with water. What is the best type of donut? Glazed or original. Have you ever left a note in a library book? No. What time of day do you prefer to wash your hair? Night. If you go to church, what is your favorite thing about it? N/A ^and what is your least favorite thing about it? Literally almost all preachers whose services I've been to like yell. Chill. You can be passionate without screaming and scaring me. Would you ever film a YouTube video with no make-up on and messy hair? Messy hair, no, but maybe no makeup. What’s your favorite movie that you remember seeing in the theater? Silent Hill: Revelation 'cuz it was the only movie I've ever watched it 3D. Have you ever had a pet rock? HAHA YES. Do you own a bobblehead? No. What is your favorite tattoo that you’ve seen? OH MAN DON'T ASK ME THIS. I absolutely adore those by Brando Chiesa, tho. Determined to have one by him one day aaaahhhh. What is something you have too many of? T-shirts. Do you have any disabilities? No. What are five of your favorite stores at the mall? Hot Topic, Spencer's, one would be Victoria's Secret if I actually FIT IN THEY CUTE-ASS SHIT, and uh. That's like it. When was the last time you went to Michael’s? Foreeeeeeeeever ago. Ours closed years ago. What is your least favorite chore? Washing dishes. Do you organize your clothes by color? No. What was the last thing you made with your own hands? Does a drawing count?? Have you ever been to a psychic/tarot reader? No. What is the kindest thing you have ever done? Maybe donate a shitload of my hair to charity. I really did almost become teary-eyed when I learned it was truly used. What holiday should exist but doesn’t? It'd be nice to have a day centered around learning about mental illnesses and celebrating survivors of them more than usual, I just don't really know how. What holiday shouldn’t exist but does? Idk. I have holidays where I'm bothered that the meaning was warped, but. If you had to choose would you live on the equator or at the North Pole? The North Pole. What do you think makes someone a hero? People looking up to you for doing genuine good. What cartoon would you like to be a character in? Pokemon. Are you a coupon clipper? Mom is for food. If you could pick one food that you could eat all you wanted but it would have no effect on how much you weigh, what food would it be? REESE'S HUNNY What are your parents interested in? Mom: Surgeries/medical operations and bodily stuff, art, helping people (children in particular), psychology, etc. Dad: Hockey, football, golf, fishing, that kinda stuff. Have you ever caught and tamed a wild animal? No. When do you feel your life energy the strongest? "Life energy?" Not too sure what that means. I guess I feel most "alive" when I'm out in nature witnessing natural beauties, like waterfalls or shooting stars, or driving through the mountains. You are spending the night alone in the woods and may bring only 3 items with you. What do you bring? My cell phone (but keep it off unless needed), a knife, and... I'm not sure. I would say camera or book, but seeing as I'm there at night... OH. DUH. A flashlight so I wouldn't drain my phone's battery using its.

#survey #quiz #questions #random

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rainbowpacifiers · 6 years

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3-gatsu no lion chapters 150-151 summaries

Sorry it took me so long! I kept checking baidu for new chapters, but it seems like they don’t get uploaded there anymore? Anyway, take everything with a grain of salt and enjoy!

<< chapter 149 || chapter 152 >>

SPOILERS ahead.

Chapter 150: Things have been going well for the teachers. They've made it past the first two rounds and will be among the best 8 if they win the next round. The principal is glad he didn't give up midway. Rei believes that the principal's spirit is what caused the opponent's sudden death! It is a worthy ability in the world of amateurs! Is that supposed to be praise?, the principal wonders. But they are putting in more effort than Rei had expected. Hayashida-sensei's concentration near the end was great too! It was wonderful how he managed to finally hit on the last move after some struggling. Hayashida was super happy, even though it might have only been a fluke. If they win the next match and get into the best 8, they will enter the B-ranks next semester!

Their next opponent is a team from a design company called "Fujiwara Design". The teachers wonder what kind of people they are and Hayashida is sure that talking about design work is 100-times more welcomed than saying "I am a teacher". That alone is enough of a reason to fight. Rei excuses himself to get away from their darkness by going to get coffee.

While doing so, Rei happens to overhear somebody mentioning the name of their school. They also mention that the principal seems like a general. He's at the amateur-level of a 3-dan, around the same as Hanamoto Shuuji. Principal Inaba happens to adore the Bishop Exchange, Reclining Silver (a shougi opening). Hanamoto's favourite castle (a strong defensive configuration of pieces that protect the king) is the Mino castle. As for the following pairings: -Vice principal Genda (amateur 2-dan), Boat castle vs. Nomiya Takumi (ama 2-dan), Side Pawn Capture Bishop*45 (Double Static Rook opening) -Hayashida Takashi (ama 2-dan), Silver Yagura vs. Mayama Takumi (ama 2-dan), Anaguma castle -Senior staff Gakiyama (ama 1-dan), Right King (defensive subcomponent of different openings) vs. Takaido (ama 2-dan), Silver Horns Central Rook (Central Rook opening) -School counselor Kuroiwa (ama 1-kyuu), Climbing Silver (strategy) vs. Kaneko (from Management, amateur 1-kyuu), Crab Silver (t/n: i don't know much about shougi, but i figured someone could be interested)

Takaido has found out that their opponents are staff at the same school that Kiriyama 6-dan attends. Therefore, there's a high possibility that they have received lessons from Kiriyama! Meaning, they have to tread carefully. If they manage to win, they will move onto B-class. Rei is shocked to hear that. The people from Fujiwara Design are pretty terrific! Rei wants to hurry back to tell the others, but isn't quite sure what exactly he needs to let them know.

That their opponents have done their research? That their strategy has been exposed? That their opponents seem really strong for a design company? But even if the teachers know, there's nothing they can do about it now. It would only make them more nervous. Now that they've come so far, all they can do is fight and stay calm.

Rei gets back to find the teachers discussing their strategy. The principal reminds them that they were given lessons by Kiriyama 6-dan! Rei is momentarily touched by the principal's words, but the principal continues: ...lessons by Kiriyama 6-dan, that "Child of God" who wields only just reasoning and is not at all accomodating. He flew past the amateur period, became a pro and carries an ability that doesn't really know the meaning of losing. As if he would understand their feelings!! Can't teach them how to set traps, thinks a foundation is more important than attacking.... but they already know that!! They know, but they're purposely asking about stuff beyond that. They're pocketing their pride, dammit! They will just achieve victory with their own strength!! They will take that green-nosed child of god down a few pegs! While the teachers psych themselves up, Rei angrily turns around and leaves, choosing not to tell the teachers what he has witnessed after all. He'll just take the coffee to the guys from the head office.

Chapter 151: The fight for B-rank has started! Hayashida-sensei has managed to win his match, as has senior staff Gakiyama. The principal and the vice principal have lost their respective matches. After an intense fight, school counselor Kuroiwa overwhelms his opponent and Rei's teachers move on to the next round! Rei is happy for them, but he still won't ever forget what he overheard them saying about him! Mayama is consoled by his teammates - his opponent was a real gorilla. They decide to get some drinks before heading home. They receive a message from their boss reminding them of the drawing for the shougi coaching assembly. Kumakura 9-dan will be a coach. They spot their boss, who points them in the direction of the information desk. He won't forgive them if they fail to be drawn. Mayama manages to be selected.

Kumakura and Shimada observe this and Kumakura mentions that he wants the players to be as content as possible before they head home, since they're all assembled anyway. Shimada agrees that it would be bitter to just lose and leave, especially since they have a lot of participants coming from far away too.

Rei receives a text message from Hina. She sent him pictures and tells him about her last day of the cultural festival. A lot of people came despite the rain and their red bean soup and the rice flour dumplings with syrup were a huge hit. Rei gets worried when he sees that Hina has her foot bandaged because she slipped. Hina also left behind one serving of the rice flour dumplings and Abekawa mochi and if possible, wishes for Rei to eat them; she adds that he shouldn't force himself (as in, trying too hard to make it back so he can eat them).

#3 gatsu no lion #March Comes in Like a Lion #Sangatsu no lion #3-gatsu no lion #Umino Chica #Honey and Clover #Hachimitsu to Clover #chapter summaries #long post

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wordsinwinters · 7 years

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Then Again, P2 Peter Parker x Reader

Author’s Note: Thank you so much to my new followers and to everyone who liked Part 1! As I mentioned before, this is the first piece of writing I’ve ever posted online, so each response means the world to me. Thank you guys so much! In particular, a huge thanks to fanboyswhereare-you, my wonderful beta.

Again, if you have any comments, questions, or anything at all that you want to tell me, send me a message. Reviews are welcome! (Please review, as a writer, I really really really value peer responses and vague validation.)

Part 1, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11

Without further ado,

Then Again, Part 2:

(Word count: 2,022)

I hate the waiting game.

It is by far my least favorite game to play with Peter. QuizUp, Kahoots, Monopoly, How-Many-Arguments-Can-We-Start-Between-Ned-and-MJ-In-A-Day, Charades, and Scrabble are all entertaining games to play with him. The waiting game, however, is grey and bland. Moreover, it makes me feel paranoid and clingy. Both paranoid and clingy, yet simultaneously doubtful of how valid those two emotions can be, given the circumstances. It’s a draining game of mental tennis. On one side of the court: I’m being - and coming across as - so clingy. On the other: My emotions are justified reactions that anyone would have in this situation, not knowing if their friend is okay. Peter probably knows that too. Trying to decipher which is true and which is false only leads me to bounce back and forth between those two sides for hours. Until Peter responds. Then it all goes away.

The stress of the waiting game always manifests as an itch on my right index finger.

Most days that itch only somewhat bothers me - but today, of course, isn’t most days. It’s been a wonderful, sunny day that everyone (but Flash) has been planning for over a month. Like the city, it might not be glamorous, but it’s ours and it’s meant to be special.

I mean, even Peter has been excited about this from the start, all the way up to today. Despite being somewhat of a recluse this week.

At this point, my finger is red and burning. Peter hasn’t answered my texts, Michelle’s ironically professional emails, or Ned’s dozen calls. It’s 7:15 p.m.

Michelle thought it best to arrive early, so the three - rather than four - of us await the rest of the team at a large table in a decently busy restaurant.

I open my messages. Nothing.

“We’re already here, btw.”

Whoosh. I close them. Ned glances at my phone.

“Tell him if he’s later than 8, I’ll rat him out to Aunt May. She told him this morning that he should skip his ‘Starky stuff’ and just hang out with everybody today. I don’t think she was too happy when she got home and saw he wasn’t there.”

I hadn’t heard May say anything to Peter this morning. Then again, I had fallen asleep at the table. (Michelle kept kneeing me on the couch all night - the reason I barely slept.) And when Peter woke me up because the cereal bowl I was cradling threatened to fall, May didn’t even make a joke about it. Did they have an argument?

“Earth to Y/N?” Ned waved his hand in front of my face. “Daydreaming about Spider-Man again?”

On the bright side, Peter isn’t here to hear that. Ned’s been making a lot of weird comments like that today. It’s not helping the fact I feel so paranoid. How would Ned know? And why so suddenly?

“Very funny. I’ll text him.”

I open my messages again.

“You and May okay? Ned says he’ll tell her you bailed if you don’t get here by 8. Don’t shoot the messenger.”

A few minutes later, the waiter brings a tray of waters. Two minutes more and he leads Abe, Cindy, Sally, and unexpectedly, Betty, the blonde newsgirl, non-decathlon member, to the table.

A round of “Hello!”’s are exchanged.

“It’s cool if Betty joins us, right?” Sally asks. “We all kind of met up on our way here and she was about to pass by, so we thought it’d be alright?”

“Of course,” Michelle says. Her nails drum the table. Our little code.

“Absolutely,” I add. “Ned was just saying we should have invited you, Betty!”

Ned thinks he can keep a secret. But he can’t. I’ve noticed him staring at her in seventh hour and Michelle is far too perceptive to miss it. With me, Michelle, Peter, and Flash all being in that class, you’d think he might make an effort to be less obvious.

Have I been obvious? Is that why Ned’s been making those jokes today? But why today? I barely even saw Peter today, let alone while Ned was there.

“Really? Thank you! I didn’t want to intrude on the team before you guys left or anything.”

Her smile is genuine. I suppress a laugh as Ned’s ears twinge red and he struggles for a cool way to play along.

“Yeah, totally. I mean, you should go with us to D.C. It’d be totally cool.”

“And totally against the rules,” Cindy points out, frowning. “Don’t get me wrong, it would be cool, but Mr. Harrington doesn’t let anyone outside of the team come. Trust me, I-”

BEEEEEEP! A horn blares outside. Once. Twice. Thrice. The third blast holds for ten seconds, minimum.

A waitress, her arms full of hot plates, glares out the window she’s now blocking. I have a guess as to which car in all of New York it is, though. Nevertheless, the scent of freshly baked salmon, wild rice, chocolate, and something lemony from the plates is making my mouth water. Hurry up, Parker. Even Flash is on time.

“I predict,” Abe says, “Flash will walk through those doors in approximately sixty seconds.”

Everyone watches the clock, all knowing it’s undoubtably him.

Sixty seconds later, Flash strides in.

“You know,” he announces, pulling off his the price of this could buy Ned a new gaming console jacket, “in this world, there are the Have’s and the Have-Not’s. And the Have-Not’s are real dicks to any Have’s with a worthwhile car.”

Michelle immediately starts to speak.

“No need to go off on a spiel, O Captain, Our Captain,” he mocks. “I know, I know. Rich people, poor people, power structures, etcetera etcetera. Don’t get your braids in a knot.”

“Are-”

“Oh my god! It’s not a race thing! Chill out. It’s literally because you’re wearing braids today. Not everything means something, you know!”

He’s barely sat down and he’s already trying his best to pick a fight. The consistency of it borders on comforting. In a strange, stupid way, Flash is dependable.

“Freud would beg to differ,” says a voice to my left.

I’m surprised for the second time in the last ten minutes. Peter didn’t bail.

I feel my pulse jump as he runs a hand through his hair and shrugs. I hate myself for it. He slides into the booth to take the table’s last seat beside me. Oddly, he doesn’t say hello or acknowledge me at all. Then again, he’s been odd all week.

Does Ned know something? Did he tell Peter? Does Peter feel awkward about me now?

I try to shake myself of these thoughts. Ned can’t know anything. I haven’t said a thing to anyone. It has to be something else. It has to be.

“Yeah, well,” Flash says, affronted. “Freud wasn’t a real psychologist anyway. What’s his work got to offer? It’s not even valid.”

Everyone races into the topic at once, drowning out the restaurant’s gentle music.

Moments like this make me fall in love with friends all over again. My best friends are talking passionately with their hands, their individual mannerisms and voices blending together like warm colors and soft city sounds. My other friends (or teammates, however you would label it) are bouncing points and ideas from each person to the next like an inflatable beach ball, never stumbling over one another.

For once, I sit back and soak up the moment. Admittedly, Freud is a subject I would rarely pass up, but I’m too relieved at the turn-out to think. Everyone showed up. Everyone is getting along. (As much as ever.) Rather than participate in the aggressive bonding of our group, I smile, listen, and laugh, trying to convince myself things with Peter are fine. This is the perfect night for an almost perfect day, don’t overthink it.

I take a moment to admire the restaurant. It’s one Abe suggested. The room is deep red, the hanging lights emit a delicate glow, and for the sake of minimalistic elegance, gold flecks are painted to sprinkle down the walls from the ceiling. It’s such a small detail I almost miss it. Other tables are talking and joking, silverware clanging and plates steaming. It smells like a fresh bakery impregnated with a vegetable garden and a smokehouse.

Mouth watering again, I notice Flash is the only one looking at a menu. He’s gotten to the “I don’t care about this topic anymore” stage of his argument. I don’t want to interrupt anyone, so I pick up my menu as well. Maybe someone else will catch on and one by one we’ll come back down to Earth.

“Yes it does!” Peter shouts beside me.

Maybe not.

“You can’t bring that up without discussing the one thing that clearly directly correlates his childhood to that thesis!” Peter says. I suddenly realize he’s seriously into this argument. The point he’s making is one of my own though, so it gives me a short flutter of pride. I know he listens to me and to everyone else, but it’s satisfying to have it confirmed, to know, with evidence, that we learn from each other. “Right, Ned?”

Peter turns from Flash to me to Ned. In the half-second they’re directed at me, his eyes shine with anger. My gut drops. Peter never gets angry, not like this, not at me.

“Yeah,” Ned says slowly, “but Y/N gets this better than I do. Didn’t you say-?”

Peter whips back to Flash.

“My point is-”

Ned gives me a questioning look, head tilted.

Peter is less than a foot to my left, but I take out my phone anyway. He’s too deep into the argument to notice and I can’t ignore whatever is going on anymore. I message Ned and Michelle.

“Peter mad at me for something?”

Whoosh.

The waiter returns to the table.

“Anyone ready to order?” he says, pen and paper pad in hand.

“I am,” Flash affirms immediately. “I’ll have the-”

“We’ll need a few minutes,” I say. Nobody picked up the menu hint.

The waiter nods and leaves with a smile.

“Okay, children,” Michelle says. “Let’s be quiet for a couple minutes and focus at the task at hand. Everyone have their menus? Excellent. I’m so proud. Ready. Set. Go!”

The table as a whole seems fine. Everyone here takes debating as entertainment and few topics result in any real disagreements. (Well, we get over them quickly, at least.)

Across the table, Abe points at his favorite dish as a suggestion for Cindy. Everyone else is calmly reading the first page.

Except Peter. Peter’s mouth is screwed up in mute irritation. In truth, it’s hard to take him seriously with that expression. It looks like he’s trying to hide something in there. Just a couple secrets, no big deal. I consider whispering a joke to him about it to lighten the mood. I deflect the thought immediately; I doubt it would work right now.

Ding! Ding!

My phone. Peter huffs. I switch it to silent.

MJ: “He’s acting weird. Maybe it’s about May? They got into an argument in her room while you were cuddling your Fruity Pebbles.”

“About what?”

Whoosh.

Bzz.

MJ: “I couldn’t hear. Kind of pissed me off. I have no idea. Ned?”

I glance up. Michelle has built a house out of her and Abe’s menu since he’s looking at Cindy’s. Her phone must be hidden inside like an Easter egg.

Ned, like me, hasn’t put that kind of effort into covering up our gossiping. He’s scanning the menu, but texting under the table.

Bzz.

Ned: “I heard 1: time management 2: friendly-at-home-occasionally Peter Parker 3. Y/N might”

Me?

“I might what???”

Whoosh.

Ned: “I cnat believe i typed that without any mistakes not looking. and idk. those were just the words i cauhgt.”

MJ: “Ironic, Ned.”

I sneak a peek at Peter. He lifts an eyebrow. I’m not sure if it’s a reaction to something on the menu or if he knows I’m trying to analyze him through my peripheral vision. Either way, I give up on both the analysis and the texts.

Part 3

Part 3 will be posted tomorrow night!

Let me know what you think :)

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