#*flips desk* AAAAAAAAAAAAA

[danceswithdarkspawn]

HOLY SHIT IT'S DONE

[breezy-cheezy]

Re:Mind is SO GOOD do far!! Even when I hit part 2 and ran face first into the “this is WAY TOO DIFFICULT” wall X’’’’D What do you MEAN button mashing won’t get me through everything??????? How do people actually fight then in this game??????

[agodth]

I ran and flew so fast just to get to this damn meditation shrine AND THEN THE TASK WAS GLITCHED

*flips desk*

aaaaaaaaaaaaa

[broken-clover]

AU-gust Day 2- College

Haven’t used this AU in a while! It’d Daryl/Venom, so obviously I made it mostly for @mama-nana, I hope it turned out okay! It’s a scenario we’ve talked about a bit before, I just loved the idea of Venom being the mysterious library man, but he’s actually just a huge nerd who manages to look cool.

‘Mastering the Mental Game of Billiards.’ ‘The Celluloid Closet.’ ‘The Last course: The Desserts of Gramercy Tavern.’ ‘Emotional Intelligence.’

Eclectic tastes, but that was exactly what endeared Daryl so much. He never caught the contents from so far away, but he was always close enough to catch the various covers as the object of his attention carefully pulled them off the shelf to peek inside. He didn’t especially care, anyway. He was always too transfixed at the way sapphire-blue eyes scanned the pages with keen interest, features gradually shifting until lips turned into a content smile or dissatisfied frown, and the man moved to either take the book to the checkout desk or to place it in a return bin.

Venom. That’s what they’d said his name was. The mysterious library man who came in nearly every day to skim the shelves in near-silence. Plenty of people used the library, of course, but most of the people who came so often spent time studying at the computers or taking a nap in the corner, rather than traipsing the bookshelves like a longing Victorian housewife.

It was that peculiarity that had drawn his attention. There were rumors around Venom, but he couldn’t say for sure which had any merit to them. A few aspiring frat boys had allegedly attempted asking him out, but had been rejected. Daryl was half-convinced those stories had been cooked up by cowards too hesitant to interrupt him in the first place.

At least the concept reassured him slightly, while his stomach did flip-flops inside him. Daryl styled himself as being pretty unflappable, but something about actually making himself step forward and attempting to introduce himself was...not quite frightening, but somewhere close.

“Daryl?”

It took all his self-control to not jump five feet in the air and scream in shock. He’d been so distracted by his own thoughts, he hadn’t noticed the footsteps approaching until a hand had put itself on his shoulder. The brunt of his surprise was channeled into biting down on his lip as he turned around, only to be greeted with a too-friendly face.

Just his luck, he had to worry about Ky Kiske, student council leader with the world’s biggest stick up his butt and a habit of pushing himself into other people’s business. The last thing he wanted or needed at that very moment.

“Oh dear. I’m sorry about that.” The man smiled, and stifled a chuckle behind his hand. “Lost in thought? What were you staring at…”

“I-I just happened to be- I was only looking for-”

“Ah.” Ky glanced over his shoulder, and spotted Venom nose-deep in a pastry book. “Engaging in a bit of spying, are we, Daryl?” His voice dropped into a hush.

And of course Ky just had to make this his problem. “I’m not spying, Kiske.”

“Right. You’re just staring very intently at the baking shelf.” Ky looked at him with a thinly-veiled expression of disgust. “You do know someone your age probably shouldn’t be spying on freshmen?”

“He’s a sophomore, actua-” Daryl cut himself off, realizing how he sounded. “That’s not what I mean. He’s twenty-five. And I’m not that old!”

“I see…” It was hard to tell if Ky really believed him, but he dropped the accusatory tone. “I don’t often see students spending time in the library on a friday afternoon. How long have you been following him?”

This was utterly humiliating. Daryl covered his face with a hand, trying not to grow flustered. “I just came to find some books of my own, honestly. He just happened to be there when I came in.”

The other man shifted his weight back and forth as he thought. “You know, it would be easiest just to talk to him. Worst thing that happens is a simple ‘no,’ no?”

He felt his frustration flaring up.“With all due respect,” Daryl said, not at all respectfully, “perhaps you should worry more about what your son is up to, than what I’m doing?”

Ky blinked for a moment in shock, before turning the color of a ripe peach. “W-wh- are you telling me Sin is getting into trouble again?”

“Possibly. But I’m not his father, so it isn’t my business to snoop.”

That finally seemed to get to him. “Alright, alright, I’ll leave you be...maybe I should call and see if Sin is up to anything…”

Daryl let out a relieved breath as Ky turned and left, mumbling to himself about Sin’s homework. As soon as he tried to turn around, he found his heart jumping out of his chest for the second time in ten minutes as he found Venom staring back at him from only a few feet away.

“That was one heck of a thrashing. I didn’t know anyone could get away with talking to Mr. Kiske like that!”

He struggled to process everything at once. All the chatter must have gotten Venom’s attention, but he didn’t seem furious with him? Actually, his voice sounded impressed? As he glanced around, Daryl noticed the man holding a familiar wad of leather. “Wait, is that my-”

Venom offered it to him. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. I just saw your wallet fall out of your back pocket and wanted to make sure you didn’t leave without it. Trust me, it’s a nightmare trying to get another ID card from the help desk.”

“That’s- that’s very kind of you, I appreciate it.” Daryl tucked it back into place, still reeling from the fact that holy shit, Venom of all people was talking to him. “I’m Daryl.”

“I know. I saw your ID. Unless there’s someone else on campus who wears a cravat?” Venom gave a wry little smile, and Daryl’s heart immediately melted. Yep. He was an absolute goner. “I’m Venom. I haven’t seen you in any of my classes, so I’m guessing you’re not a culinary major?”

“Uh, criminal justice. I do a little baking in my spare time, though. Mostly just pudding and pastries.”

Venom immediately lit up. “Pastries? Those are my specialty. I’ve been trying out a new flan recipe, too! I love it when they let me make pudding, it’s difficult at times, but really rewarding.”

Gorgeous, mysterious, and he liked pudding? Daryl was half-convinced he was dreaming. The other man pulled out his cell phone. “Is it okay if I get your phone number? I suppose I could use a ~pudding connoisseur~ when I finish the flan.”

Code red, code red, earth to Daryl. He had no idea how he managed to remain at all composed, when mentally he was practically having a full-on freakout as his internal voice screamed in nonstop fright. “Sure! I’d love to!”

In his panic, he almost managed to forget his own phone number. When he handed it back over, Venom tucked a thread of white hair behind his ear and smiled again. “Alright, got it. It probably won’t be done until tomorrow, but I can offer some pictures of my roommate’s cat if that helps?”

Daryl grinned. “I love cats!”

Venom chuckled and turned away. “I guess I should head home and get to work, I’ve been here a while. I’ll text you later! It was nice to meet you, Daryl!”

‘AAAAAAAAAAAAA-’

++++++

‘-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA’

As soon as he rounded the bookshelf and vanished out of sight, Venom pressed himself against the wall and let out a shaky breath. Good lord, he had no idea how he had managed to stay so calm. Had he looked like an idiot? Had immediately talking about pastries made it weird? Arghh!!

It had taken all his willpower plus a bit of reckless stupidity to manage walking over to him in the first place. Venom didn’t know anything about the guy, aside from seeing him a few times across campus, but man was he cute. It seemed like a pipe dream that he’d even be able to start a conversation with Daryl without coming across as an absolute loser.

Venom pulled out his phone again. He’d manage to snap a photo right before he left. It was a little blurry, but Daryl looked just as pretty, with an adorable smile on his face.

Feeling the heat rise to his face, he rifled through the rest of his photo gallery, until he found a photo of an extremely fluffy tabby cat asleep on the couch that he’d taken a few days ago.

“Just like I promised!” He wrote and sent to Daryl’s phone number with the picture, immediately second-guessing if it had come across as too silly or cheesy. Venom buried his face in his knees, only to be interrupted by his phone buzzing.

“Adorable!”

Yep. That was it. Venom was a goner.

[imdoingthismspaintadventure]

Worm 2.3 - In which Taylor has the best day ever

I didn’t have any time to contemplate the message I’d received from Tattletale.  The bell rang and I had to hurry to properly log off and shut down before heading to my next class.  As I gathered my stuff, I realized I had been so caught up in researching on the villains I’d met last night and in Tattletale’s message that I had forgotten to worry about getting into trouble for skipping class.  I felt a kind of resignation as I realized I would have to face the music later in the day, anyways.

Time flies when you’re having fun, or at least reading about interesting stuff. Like the fact that a member of a villanous group maaay or may not have solicited a meetup.

Also the classes you missed would eventually come back around to bite you, so it’s better that it happens now.

Madison was already in her seat as I got to the classroom.  She had a pair of girls crouching by either side of her desk, and all three of them broke into giggles as they saw me.  Bitches.

Ugh. What a great start to the next class. This is going to suck.

My seat of choice was the far right, front row, closest to the door. Lunch hour and immediately after school was when the trio tended to give me the hardest time, so I tried to sit as close as possible to the door, for a quick escape.  I spotted a puddle of orange juice on the seat, with the empty plastic bottle lying just underneath the chair.   Madison was going for a two for one.  It was both a ‘prank’ and a reminder of how they had doused me with juice and soft drinks last Friday.  Irritated, I carefully avoided looking at  Madison and took an empty seat a few rows back.

Taylor don’t you know that’s not the seat where the protagonist must be? Read up on your tropes!

Also uuuuugghhhh, the bitches supreme continue with their pathetic teasing bullshit.

Mr Gladly entered the room, he was short and young enough you could almost mistake him for another high school student.  It took a few minutes for him to start the class, and he immediately ordered us to break into groups of four to share our homework with one another and to prepare to share it with the rest of the class.  The group that had the most to contribute would win the prize he had mentioned on Friday, treats from the vending machine.

Oh and this is great too!

Honestly, the less palsy and group exercise-y my teachers are, the better. I don’t like having to do weird assignments and then share it with everybody else. The introvert in me dies a violent death thinking about it.

It was stuff like this that made Mr. Gladly my least favorite teacher.  I got the impression he’d be surprised to hear he was anyone’s least favorite teacher, but that was just one more point against him in my book.  I don’t think he comprehended why people might not like him, or how miserable group work was when you didn’t identify with any of the groups or cliques in the school.  He just figured people liked doing group work because it let them talk and hang out with their friends in class.

Seems like Taylor agrees with me! Sometimes it can be fun, but yeaaaah.

While the class got sorted, I figured I’d avoid standing around like a loser with no group to join and get something else out of the way. I approached the desk at the front of the room.

“Mr. Gladly?”

“Call me Mr. G.  Mr. Gladly is my dad,” he informed me with a sort of mock sternness.

Oh god he just did that.

“Sorry, uh, Mr. G.  I need a new textbook.”

He gave me a curious look, “What happened to your old one?”

Soaked with grape juice by a trio of harpies.  “I lost it,” I lied.

“Replacement textbooks are thirty five dollars.  I don’t expect it now, but…”

“I’ll have it for you by the end of the week,” I finished for him.

Taylor don’t lie about these things. He probably won’t do jack shit, but downplaying your situation isn’t a good thing to do!

He handed me a textbook, and I looked over the room before joining the only group with room for more: Sparky and Greg.  We had been in a group several times before, as the leftovers when all the friends and cliques had banded together.

At least you have company....?

Sparky and Greg sounds like a comedy duo, honestly.

Sparky had apparently picked up his nickname when a third grade teacher used it in an ironic sense, and it had stuck, to the point where I doubted anyone but his own mother even knew his real name.  He was a drummer, long haired, and was so out of touch with reality that you could stop talking in the middle of a sentence and he wouldn’t notice.   He just went through life in a daze, presumably until he could do his thing, which was his band.

Fun fact, the “nickname becoming his only name” is a real thing. We had a classmate we just called Pan, and I don’t know where that originated from, but it wasn’t his real name or even close. I don’t think we ever knew his real name...

School is weird.

Also he seems veeery zoned out, holy shit. This one won’t contribute anything to the group project, huh?

Greg was just the opposite.  He was smarter than average, but he had a way of saying every thought that came into his head – his train of thought didn’t have any brakes.  Or tracks.  It would have been easier to be in a group with just Sparky and essentially do the work by myself than it would be to work with Greg.

I have met a Greg. I have met at least two Gregs. We all have probably met a Greg somewhere

So we have a chillaxed drummer and an overeager fuckup. Looks like it’s time to begin the classic show “Let’s to this group essay by ourselves!”

Yaay!

I got my share of the homework out of my new backpack.  Mr. Gladly had asked us to come up with a list of ways that capes had influenced society.  In between the various steps of my getting ready for my first night out in costume, I had taken the time to fix up my art project and had come up with a fairly comprehensive list for Mr. Gladly’s homework. I had even used newspaper and magazine clippings to support my points. I felt pretty good about it.

Taylor is pretty efficient about her work, I like it.

A way in which it has influenced society is that now instead of normal crime bosses, we have regenarative metal-scaled hellfire-spewing living human dragon crime bosses. Don’t ask me how I know or why I smell of ash and smoke.

“I didn’t get much done,” Greg said, “I got distracted by this new game I got and it is really really good, it’s called Space Opera, have you played it?”

Oh--Ohno

Greg no

A full minute later he was still on the same topic, even though I wasn’t playing any attention to him or giving him any feedback on what he was saying, “…you have to understand it’s a genre, and it’s one I’ve really been getting into it lately, since I started watching this anime called – Oh, hey, Julia!”  Greg broke off from his monologue to wave with enough energy and excitement that I felt a little embarrassed to just be sitting next to him.  I turned in my seat to see one of Madison’s friends coming in, late.

Oh god this boy is a walking human disaster.

“Can I be in Madison’s group?” Julia asked Mr. Gladly.

“That wouldn’t be fair.  Greg’s group only has three people.  Help them,” Mr. Gladly said.

Julia walked over to where we were sitting and made a face.  Just loud enough for us to hear, she muttered a disgusted, “Ew.”  I felt much the same about her joining us.

nooooooo

The bad situation got even worse!!

Whyyyy

It was downhill from there.  Madison’s group moved so the four of them were sitting right next to our group, which let Julia talk with them while still sitting with us.  The presence of all the popular and attractive girls in the class just got Greg more wound up, and he began trying to insert himself into their conversation, only to get shut down or ignored.  It was embarrassing to watch.

Well this class is being all around fantastic.

If the bitches are the apocalypse then Greg is blowing the fucking trumpets.

“Greg,” I said, trying to distract him from the other group, “Here’s what I did over the weekend.  What do you think?”

I handed him the work I had done.  To his credit, he gave it a serious read.

“This is really good, Taylor,” He said, when he was done.

“Let me see,” Julia said.  Before I could stop him, Greg dutifully handed my work over to her.  I watched her glance over it, then toss it onto Madison’s table.  There were a few giggles.

NO

“Give that back,” I said.

“Give what back?” Julia said.

“Madison,” I said, ignoring Julia, “Give it back.”

Madison, cute and petite and crush of choice for half the guys in our grade, turned and managed a combined look and tone of such condescension that a grown man would have flinched, “Nobody is talking to you, Taylor.”

Aaaaaaaaaaaaa

Why are they the worst! They are masterful at being the worst!!

That was that.  Short of running to the teacher and complaining, I wasn’t going to get my work back, and anyone who considered that an option has clearly never been in high school.  Greg looked between me and the girls with a kind of panic before settling into a funk, Sparky had his head down on his desk, either asleep or close to it, and I was left fuming.  I made an attempt at trying to to salvage things, but getting Greg to focus was impossible, as he constantly tried to apologize and made lame attempts to convince the other group to give my work back.  Our time ran out, and Mr. Gladly picked out people from each group to stand up and go over what they had come up with.

*flips an infinite number of tables*

This is painful and very realistic at the same time! You sure know how to evoke gigantic feelings of frustration, Wildbow!

I sighed as Mr. Gladly picked Greg to do our group’s presentation, and was forced to watch Greg botch it badly enough that Mr. Gladly asked him to sit down before he was finished.  Greg was one of those kids I always figured made teachers groan inwardly when they raised their hands in class.  The sort of kid that took twice as long to answer as anyone else, and was often only half-right or so off-tangent that it derailed the discussion.  I couldn’t imagine what had possessed Mr. Gladly to pick Greg to do our group’s presentation.

And of course Greg is the one picked! Of couuurse.

The universe is a petty bitch like that.

Honestly Taylor, the fact that you haven’t said fuck it, and gone Exodus on the school is proof that you are a good person.

What made things worse was that I then got to watch Madison rattle off my very impressive sounding list of ways capes had changed the world.  She cribbed almost all of my stuff; fashion, economics, Tinkers and the tech boom, the fact that movies, television and magazines had been tweaked to accommodate cape celebrities, and so on.  Still, she got it wrong when explaining how law enforcement had changed.  My point had been that with qualified capes easing the workload and taking over for most high profile crises, law enforcement of all stripes were more free to train and expand their skill sets, making for smarter, more versatile cops.  Madison just made it sound like they got a lot of vacation days.

Oh fuck off Madison! At least you explained it wrong, you absolute dick.

This is just the “Taylor’s life sucks” episode, isn’t it?

Mr. Gladly named another group as the winners, by virtue of the sheer number of things they had come up with, though he made a point of saying the quality of Madison’s work was nearly good enough to count.  From there, he moved on to his lecture.

At least she didn’t win. There is some justice in the world.

A pitiful, insignificant amount...

I was steamed and I could hardly focus on the lecture, as my power crackled and tugged at my attention from the periphery of my consciousness, making me acutely aware of every bug within a tenth of a mile.  I could tune it out, but the extra concentration that took, coupled with the anger I felt towards Madison and Mr. Gladly, was distracting enough that I couldn’t focus on the lecture.  I took a cue from Sparky and put my head down on the desk.  Being as exhausted from the previous night’s activity as I was, it was all I could do to keep from dozing off.  Still, spending the class half asleep made it go by faster.  I was startled when the bell rang.

Oh shit her powers get more powerful or precise when she’s pissed off! That is very interesting

At least she can keep it in check and not have a bee accidentally give the Lung treatment of stinger to eyeball to some of these wonderful individuals.

As everyone gathered their things and began to file out, Mr. Gladly approached me and quietly said, “I’d like you to stick around for a few minutes, please.”

I just nodded and put my books away, then waited for the teacher to finish negotiating where to meet the prize winners from the class contest so he could pay for their prizes.

When it was just me and Mr. Gladly in the classroom, he cleared his throat and then told me, “I’m not stupid, you know.”

“Okay,” I replied, not sure how to respond.

!!! Is Mr. Gladly actually going to do something?!

Nice!! Good on you, Gladly, for bringing this up!

“I have something of an idea of what goes on in my classroom.  I don’t know exactly who, but I know some people are giving you a pretty hard time.”

“Sure,” I said.

“I saw the mess left on your usual seat today.  I remember a few weeks back when glue was smeared on your desk and chair.  There was also the incident that happened at the start of the year.  All of your teachers had a meeting about that.”

I couldn’t meet his gaze as he brought that last event up.  I looked at my feet.

“And I’m guessing there’s more that I don’t know about?”

Please talk about it Taylor, this cannot continue like this.

“Yeah,” I said, still looking down.  It was hard to explain how I felt about this conversation.  I was gratified, I think, that someone had brought it up, but annoyed that that someone was Mr. Gladly.  I felt kind of embarrassed too, like I had walked into a door and someone was trying too hard to make sure I was okay.

“I asked you after the glue incident.  I’m asking you again.  Would you be willing to go to the office with me, to talk with the principal and vice principal?”

Ow, Taylor you poor thing! I know exactly how you’re feeling and how much it sucks, but this situation merits the genuine concern!

It is not shameful to need help

After a few moments of consideration, I looked up and asked him, “What would happen?”

“We’d have a discussion about what’s been going on.  You would name the person or people you believe responsible, and each of them would be called in to talk to the principal, in turn.”

“And they’d get expelled?” I asked, though I already knew the answer.

Mr. Gladly shook his head, “If there was enough proof, they would be suspended for several days, unless they’ve done something very serious. Further offenses could lead to longer suspensions or expulsion.”

...A several day suspension isn’t going to do shit.

I gave a rueful chuckle, feeling the frustration welling up, “Great.  So they might miss a few days of school, and only if I can prove they were behind it all… and whether they get suspended or not, they feel a hundred percent justified in whatever else they do to the rat for revenge.”

Yeaah Taylor is right here. This is just going to backfire.

“If you want things to get better, Taylor, you have to start somewhere.”

“That isn’t a starting point.  It’s shooting myself in the foot,” I said, pulling my bag over my shoulder.  When he didn’t immediately respond, I left the classroom.

I have to say, they really managed to capture how schools can be Agressively, Gloriously Useless in issues like this a lot of the time

Emma, Madison, Sophia and a half dozen other girls were standing in the hall, waiting for me.

Oh my god it keeps getting worse!

How does it keep getting worse!!