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rachelbethhines · 4 years ago

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Vintage Shows to Watch While You Wait for the Next Episode of WandaVision - The 50s

So the first three episodes of Wandavision have dropped onto Disney Plus and like me you’re probably already obsessing over it. Also like me you’re probably jonesing for another fix while waiting for more as the episodes only come out once a week.

But never fear, we literally have decades of cheesy comedy sitcoms to sift through to keep us entertained during quarantine. Along with the occasional action and/or horror stuff if you’re so inclined. So if you’re trying to decide where to start I’ll be making short lists for each decade that coincides with each episode.

1. I Love Lucy (1951- 1957)

The granddaddy of all American television sitcoms staring the first lady of comedy herself, Lucille Ball. While not the first sitcom to air, tv had been kicking around since the late 40s, this show did pave the way for many technical innovations for the new medium both on and behind the scenes. As such Elisabeth Olsen cited Miss Ball’s work as one of her inspirations for her role as Wanda in the series, as do many a woman entering into the comedic field.

Also the show is just flat out funny. One of those rare 50s sitcoms that manages to overcome some of it’s more dated aspects through shear force of personality and peak comedic screwball antics. The only downside is you have to have Hulu to watch it as the copywrite is tightly controlled even to this day.

2. Amos ‘n Andy (1951-1953)

The 1950s television landscape was overwhelemingly white. It’s no secret that POC had a hard time finding work in the field of entertainment let alone be the stars of the show. Amos ‘n Andy, a spin off of the earlier same titled radio show, was one of, if not the first black led shows on television and so deserves a mention just for that alone.

Now I will not act as if this show is perfect or ahead of it’s time. The series was controversial even during its day for is depictions of racial stereotypes. Eventually the series was canceled because of protests from the NAACP despite being very popular in the ratings. However I’m a full believer that history should be observed and talked about in order to progress further so check out an episode or two on youtube and decide for yourself if it’s worth remembering or not.

3. The Adventures of Superman (1952 - 1958)

Ok, not a sitcom, but as we all know, Wandavision isn’t just a sitcom it’s also a superhero show and this is one of the first tv series in this genre. It and the Fleischer Superman cartoons from the previous decade helped to make the juggernaut industry that we know today.

Plus Superman did an official crossover with I Love Lucy, seriously.

4. The Adventures of Ozzie and Harriet (1952 - 1966)

Hardly anyone talks about it today, but Ozzie and Harriet is the longest running sitcom to date. It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia being the only other show threating to up seat it come next year. However the two sitcoms couldn’t be any more different.

The series stared the real life Nelson family who had got their start in radio as comedians and singers who then crossed over into tv. While the show was completely scripted it tried to hew as close to real life as possible, kicking off American’s obsession with platonic voyeurism. Much in the way Wandavision has the meta storyline of being watch in their own home.

5. Father Knows Best (1954 - 1960)

Another radio to television entry here, however the series drastically changed the main character during the transition. During the 40s radio sitcoms were very biting and sarcastic, often either going the complete surreal screwball route or were satires of the day. This fell out of favor as tv became more dominated by commercials and advertisers feared offending their potential costumers. So things were greatly toned down as the decade progressed.

Therefore when Father Knows Best hit the small screen gone was the rude and domineering dad and in his place we got the very model tv father; affable, gentle, loving, devoted, and very congenial. All traits we love to see in Vision some six decades later.

6. The Honeymooners (1955 - 1956)

I physically can not make a recommendation list of 50s sitcoms and not mention The Hoonymooners. I just can’t. It’s one of the greatest sitcoms ever made and hugely influential. So much so that The Flintstones ripped off the series whole sale to the point that Jackie Gleason threatened to sue Hanna-Barbera. However there’s little such influence in Wandvision.

See what made The Honeymooners stand out at the time and what gave it such longevity is the fact that the main characters were poor. They lived in a cramped and over crowded sparsely furnitured one bedroom apartment in Brooklyn. They owed bills, they dressed plainly, they worked long hours at low paying jobs, and they were often dirty from said work.

Much like how Wandavision will pull back the curtain a little to see the reality hiding underneath their suburban utopia, so too did The Honeymooners defy the the ‘perfect American dream’ that was soled on tv during the 50s to show us the trauma of poverty and the only thing that you can do when you find yourself trapped within that reality, laugh.

7. Leave it to Beaver (1957 - 1963)

You can not get any more quintessentially 50s than Leave it to Beaver. The series has become synonymous with the decade and it’s take on the ideal American family life to the point where it’s become a punchline of numerus jokes criticizing the values and attitudes of the era.

Does it really deserve such mockery? Who knows. I think one needs to watch it for themselves to decide. However it slots right into the aesthetic that the first episode of Wandavision is trying to recreate and it must have been popular for a reason, right?

8. The Many Loves of Dobie Gillis (1959 - 1963)

We featured wholesome family sitcoms and screwball comedies with married folks but we haven’t covered any surrealist humor yet, and Wandavision is seeped into that sort of stuff. That’s because there really isn’t a lot of fantasy in most 50s sitcoms. So while the trappings for episode one of Wandavision is very 50s the effects and premise is more 1960s.

That’s where Dobie Gillis comes into play. Like Wandavision, The Many Loves of Dobie Gillis is based off a comic book, or comic strip rather. However that comic was very down to earth and tame compared to the tv show. More fondly remembered as the inspiration for Scooby Doo a decade later, Dobie Gillis quickly transformed from a typical coming of age show about teenagers to a surreal, sarcastic, tongue in cheek comedy, complete with get rich quick schemes, spys, bongos, and a giant chicken.

9. Bonanza (1959 - 1973)

Yeah, I know all of y’all are judging me right now. “A western in a sitcom/sic-fi list? What are you thinking?” Well one really can’t talk about 50s television and not mention westerns of some sort. They permeated all mediums and dominated the cultural air waves. And Bonanza is far more than just a western.

Bonanza is literally every thing. It’s every genre at once; western, historical drama, sitcom, action adventure, satire, crime drama, soap opera ,and yes even the occasional foray into science fiction, albeit with a more Jules Vern take than a typical spaceman theming.

If Wandavision is a melding pot of seemingly disconnected genres then it’s because Bonanza paved the way with it’s similar breakage of formula.

10 The Twilight Zone (1959 to 1964)

Yeah, you probably knew this was coming. When not being a homage to sitcoms Wandavision is a downright horror movie, but not one with gore and mindless monsters. Rather the show evokes old school surrealist horror, like that employed in the famous (or infamous) Twilight Zone.

What you probably didn’t know is that we have the I Love Lucy show to thank for it. See Lucille Ball and her then husband Desi Arnaz had created their own production company in order to make I Love Lucy. This production company, Desilu Productions, is responsible for picking up Rod Sterling’s pilot and producing The Twilight Zone.

Runner Ups

Good shows that have little to do with Wandavision but are good anyways.

What’s My Line (1950 - 1967)

Just a really fun game show. Stars of the day would sometimes appear on it including many of the sitcom comedians listed above

Have Gun - Will Travel (1957 - 1963)

One of the very few pure westerns that I can tolerate. The lead actually cares about people and justice and will stand up to bigots.

Dennis the Menace (1959 - 1963)

While I have fond memories of the 90s film, I thought it was a tad redundant to put on the list when there’s already Leave it to Beaver.

So there’s the 50s list. On Wednesday I’ll post a list for the 60s and cover some of the more obvious stuff Wandavision was paying homage to.

#wandavision #wanda #vision #sitcoms #1950s #marvel #disney #i love lucy

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kessielrg · 4 years ago

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[Kingdom Hearts] The Heart of a Dandelion

Summary: By far, Ven’s got the most boring job at the flower shop; the cashier. Sitting day in and day out for someone to browse along the rows of flowers and gardening tools, then probably walk right out again. Sometimes an interesting thing would happen- but they were few and far between. [flower shop AU focused on UX kids][Part 5 in a series of oneshots][VenxOC][EphemerxOC/F!Player]

Rating: K

Word Count: 1,725 words

If you liked this story, please reblog!

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“Strelitzia needs a different job.”

Ventus gave a rather annoyed eye up at Elrena. Finals were coming up soon, and he was using this time to study. Of course, Elrena wasn't talking to him, she was talking to Lauriam. The older man was gently spritzing some flowers with a glycerin mixture. Elrena felt the need to lean against the front counter and shout at him from across the store. It was really starting to get on Ven's nerves.

“Why are you telling me this?” Lauriam gently asked as he looked over one flower, gave it a small tilt of his head, before giving its petals two sprays of glycerin. “Strelitzia's shift ended ten minutes ago. If you wanted to tell her this, you could have done it before she left.”

“She wouldn't, and didn't.” Ven retorted as he wrote down a math formula to memorize later. “Strelitzia makes her feel emotions. It scares her.”

“Shut up Roxas.” Elrena demanded as she reached over to slam his book closed. Ven blinked for a moment before looking at Elrena with a rather dark glare.

“You know my name is Ven.” he informed her, opening his book back up.

“See if I care.” came the nasty retort.

“Elrena, don't be rude to Ven just because you're worried.” Lauriam idly noted as he inspected another flower. He frowned in finding that it was wilting a bit.

“I'm not worried!” she immediately spat back. “I just… I just hate when she gets hurt.”

“No wonder you're always in a bad mood.” Ven remarked without thinking about it. Elrena flashed him a glare so dark, Ven physically recoiled from it.

“It is nice to know she's cares, isn't it?” Lauriam just as easily laughed. Elrena gave him a dark glare as well, but he simply shrugged it off. Instead, he picked up the wilting flower and brought it up to the front counter.

“In any event,” he said, taking the flower out of the ceramic vase. “You and I both know that Strelitzia's not going to change jobs anytime soon. She loves it here.”

“Must be a stupid masochist then.” Elrena huffed, even folding her arms in defiance. “Not a day goes by that she comes home with some new cut, or bruise, or headache from all these stupid plants...”

“Pretty sure everyone in our family has a high tolerance for pollen.” Lauriam laughed. “I think it just depends on your perspective.”

That earned him a peeved eye roll, along with another huff. Lauriam was definitely not paying her any mind while he laid the flowers in a single row. He placed the vase close to Ven- a hint that the younger needed to dump out the water. Ven made a mental note of it; he was still studying, after all. He did hand Lauriam some loose newspaper when he asked for it, though. Apparently Lauriam was going to dry the flowers out later.

“Our parents started Dandelion's you know.” he then thoughtfully said. “It was right after they got married.”

“I know that.” Elrena grumbled.

“You do, but Ven doesn't.”

Elrena let out an undignified huff. Lauriam offered a small chuckle in response before properly turning his attention to Ventus.

“They used flowers from their own garden. Mother handled the arrangements, and Father actually went to do minor landscaping work around town. Hence the dual 'Floristry and Gardening' bit on the full business name. It's not just because we sell gardening supplies year round.”

Ven gave a small, rather uninterested nod. By now he'd gathered that Lauriam wasn't really related this story to him, he was reminding Elrena. There was a reason why Strelitzia loved working here.

“Strelitzia was the one who brought up the idea of placing the shop here in the outlets. She was about 16 then, and the four of us decided to go out shopping for Mother's birthday. The moment she saw the store front, she knew the store had to be here.” Lauriam let out a soft snort before going on to say, “She had pretty good tastes, honestly, with it being a corner lot and all. Makes it easier to get big deliveries in and out.”

“Hmmph.” Elrena grumbled. “She only wanted it here because Ephemer's sylph worked at the antique store three shops down.”

“I thought she met Strelitzia when Ephemer started working here.” Ven cut in, now a bit confused.

“Anora and Strelitzia dated for a year and a half.” Lauriam gently agreed. “But Anora started working at the antique store when she was 17. Strelitzia was 18 then.” Lauriam offered Ven a kind smile. “You might be thinking of Anora and Brain. They met when Ephemer started working here, and hit it off pretty well from what I understand.”

At this, Elrena laughed in a rather obnoxious pitch. “More like hit on each other!” she cackled. “Those three were threewaying so often, that brat of theirs would have needed a paternity test if he didn't end up with Ephemer's hair!”

Lauriam frowned. “Elrena, you don't know that.”

“I bet they still go at it every now and again.” she went on, absolutely reveling at the thought. “Betcha in the next five years (maybe even sooner if you catch my drift), she's gonna pop another and it'll have hair as black as sin!”

“Elrena!” Lauriam finally demanded. “That's enough!”

Elrena immediately reined herself back in. Even Ven shrunk a bit at Lauriam's tone. Seeing Lauriam angry was possibly one of the most scariest things about him. Assuming he even let that anger show, of course.

“Back to the original topic at hand,” the oldest between the three of them said before slowly returning to a more relaxed demeanor. “It's because of Strelitzia that we were able to understand what Dandelion's meant to the community. Our parents had to raise the money to rent out this property at first. Once the whole town caught wind of it, we were able to meet the goal in a month.”

“That's pretty impressive.” Ven noted. His voice didn't sound as enthused though. Lauriam smiled at the acknowledgment, regardless.

“It was quite the shock.” he agreed. “Our parents were old souls- gentle, and fair too humble for their own good. Moving Dandelion's to the outdoor mall became a rather big affair. At the head of it was Strelitzia. Before Skuld was brought on to be our bona fide manager, it was Strelitzia.”

“Strelitzia's the one in charge of hiring new people too, right?” Ven asked. The thought had came to him suddenly. He could faintly remember his initial interview two or so years ago. Tired of being cooped up at home while Terra and Aqua worked at their respective jobs, Ven had been wandering around the outdoor mall for something to do. He walked by Dandelion's Floristry and Gardening, noticed the 'Now Hiring!' sign taped to the window, and immediately made a choice. Ephemer was the first person he got to know that worked here. Strelitzia became the second.

“She is.” Lauriam agreed with a smile and happy nod. “She has a natural intuition toward other people. We don't hire anyone without her say so.”

Elrena grunted. For a moment, Ven had to wonder why. Had Elrena tried to work here before?

“Point is,” Lauriam went on, “You can't separate this store from Strelitzia, or vice versa. Our parents might have started it, but she is Dandelion's Floristry and Gardening.”

Elrena was silent. The words settled around them as she thought long and hard over the idea. She knew he had a point, and she hated it.

“She's going to kill herself here.” she finally decided, looking up at Lauriam with a steely gaze. “How can she be happy when all she does is hurt herself?”

“Maybe you could ask her yourself.” Lauriam suggested with a sly grin. He then gave a rather bemused chuckle before taking the flowers to the backroom.

Elrena waited for when he was out of earshot just to mimic in a whining voice, “Maybe you could ask her yourself.” She huffed, folding her arms once again, then proceeded to act rather indignant. Ven didn't know why she was still in the store at this point.

He raised an eyebrow at her before questioning, “If you like Strelitzia so much, why don't you just tell her?”

“If you like that tramp Brain calls a sister so much, why don't you just tell her?” Elrena shot back, her voice still obnoxiously high. She let out a frustrated sigh before snapping at him, “It's not that simple, Roxas.”

Ven looked at her. Any thoughts about studying now were thrown out the window. If she wanted to go for the throat, then he was more than willing to fight back too.

“First of all,” he said, “My name is Ventus; Ven if you bothered to be nice for all of five seconds. Second, Strelitzia actually listens if you asked her to. And third, at least I'm trying.”

Elrena stood up a bit straighter at his assertion. A look of bewilderment crossed her face before being replaced with a snide smirk.

“Look at you, growing a spine.” Elrena marveled. Her voice was still chilly, though. “Keep that attitude up and you might just lose your virginity before graduation.”

It took Ven a solid three seconds for what she said to click. His face then started to flush a rather deep shade of red as he tried to return to his schoolwork. Elrena just snorted at him.

“Pathetic.” she mumbled under her breath. Then, without any warning, she shouted at the top of her lungs, “Well, if you're done talking to me, Lauriam, then I guess I'm out of here.”

Lauriam came out of the backroom just to wave her out.

“Have a safe trip home.” he told her. Elrena gave him a half hearted wave as she went on out. Ven, for one, was glad she was gone now. His joy at her departure did not go unnoticed. Lauriam looked over at him in thought for a moment.

“You're a lot braver than her, Ven.” Lauriam noted. “Just… next time? Be easier on her. She's not out of the closet yet.”

Admittedly, it took Ven a moment to realize what Lauriam said. When he turned around to give his coworker a funny glance, he was already gone.

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inkribbon796 · 4 years ago

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(x2+y2-1)3 = x2y3

Summary: For the brainiac in your life there is but one gift, and failing that you can always be yourself. Patton and Roman have a mad crush on Logan; Bing has his parameters for Google. Logan and Google are currently unaware of this.

A/N: Guess who’s late again? It’s a real formula, and it’s real adorable (put the number to the right of the letter in the powers spot so it’s x squared not 2x).

~::~ Fourteen Years Ago ~::~

Roman snuck around the base in the most obnoxiously obvious trench coat, he had a huge smile on his face as he slipped into the conference room where Patton and Bing were in the room. “Were you seen?”

Bing and Patton just stared at him. “Yeah everyone is still in the base, why are you in disguise?”

“It’s the chase, the journey to the road of true love,” Roman answered. “Logan and Google won’t know what hit them.”

Patton looked excited, but Bing seemed less optimistic, commenting, “You do know who we’re talking ‘bout right. Emotions aren’t exactly in Google’s code.”

“Well he’s gotta feel something,” Roman argued. “Where’s the motivation?”

“Anger and an unending sense ‘a revenge against all ‘a humanity,” Bing answered.

“Anger is still an emotion,” Roman said hopefully.

Ever since Thomas’s split, Roman and Patton often found themselves in each other’s company and that eventually turned to them dating, but the relationship felt lacking and found that even being around Logan seemed to fill that gap. Roman, in his mind, figured that could only mean all three of them were meant to be together. Patton was unsure, not knowing how adding a third person to the dynamic would go. The emotional Side was always worried that one of them would be a third wheel and Logan took every opportunity, when they weren’t on missions, to be away for them.

Bing had always been very open with the heroes about his feelings for Google, but Google tended to shoot first and have a conversation never whenever he saw Bing. As a result many heroes like Jackie and Henrik had voice their very legitimate concerns about Bing’s safety if he continued to pursue Google as a partner. The other android still saw Bing as a threat and the oranger android was at a complete loss on how to convince him otherwise.

So Roman came up with a plan that was full proof, one that he was “100% absolutely positively sure would win over Logan and Google” and would ensure all three of them a happy ever after.

As Roman worked out the details of his plan to confess their undying love for one of two of the smartest and most strictly rational minds in the entire city, Logan was on the hunt for Google again.

The change in scenery was very refreshing for his sanity. One: because he was out of the base; and two: he could focus on something other than Roman and Patton’s overtly emotional relationship.

At first Logan didn’t notice the relationship, chalking it up to Roman and Patton being overly tactile because of their more sensitive personalities. Logan had been quietly grateful that in the split he hadn’t received that part of Thomas’s personality if the two were always so distracted.

Then one night he walked down the hall of their apartment and caught the two of them kissing and that was harder to write off. It had been impossible to rationally dismiss, in fact.

Roman and Patton were together now . . . and something in Logan’s mind . . . felt . . . well he didn’t know how he felt, just that he felt something.

Happy? No, that wasn’t it? Relieved? Content? He didn’t have a word in Thomas’s vocabulary for how he felt. What was the name of an emotion where you were glad about someone’s success but upset at the same time?

Jealousy? Impossible! Logan had first thought, dismissing the idea of such an irrational thought pattern.

But after searching for the word only to come to a word that also failed him, Logan put aside the task to focus on more pressing matters.

But the brain doesn’t put away tasks, it saves them to work on for later. Logan always saw Roman and Patton together and he was happy for them. It took him an inordinate amount of time to realize he was in fact jealous of them. Which confused and baffled Logan.

The emotion made even less sense to him, and the more tried to dissect and investigate it, the more it confused him. Was he jealous of their happiness? He shouldn’t be, they were clearly infatuated and he was glad for their happiness, but watching them so happy made him feel metaphorically adrift from them.

Even drafting up a list of reasons why their relationship was good for their team dynamic didn’t change his perception of the situation. Despite the fact that them being in their feeling-involved relationship considerably balanced both Patton and Roman’s moods, the thoughts he had persisted.

So Logan endeavored to remove himself from the situation, not wanting to intrude with his lack of emotions and his frustration with their relationship. No Logan was better than his “feelings” . . . Or at least he had to be. He was logic, this was his job, his whole reason for existing and there was no space for such frivolous thoughts buzzing around his head . . . Especially thoughts that Logan knew would never be returned.

Logan knew Roman and Patton, knew them very well. Roman believed in romance, in the chivalry and love and fairy ideals Thomas had been taught as a child; and Patton was Patton. They had each other and would never think of looking at another soul the same way. Besides, Logan didn’t want to be one of their paramours. He didn’t want either of their pity.

So distance was the only option. Complete Thomas’s studies, accrue vast amounts of information, and surrender to logic itself. It’s what he was, he was Thomas’s logic and nothing more.

Today wasn’t one of his better days, Google was apparently causing all sorts of havoc, and eventually Logan found him in a part of town where one could find all types of people in one of the higher crime rate areas of town. A part of town where people weren’t able to defend themselves against Google tech and violent tendencies.

Logan had liked working in these parts of the city, both in costume and out of it. A city was only as prosperous as its most stricken citizen. In a big city there would always be crime and those seeking to take advantage of others. But Silver had been right when he’d said that Egoton was a den of corruption and misery, and that was infesting Gainesville.

Something Logan would not tolerate.

Google was just the newest example of that, and Logan would take great pride in testing out his newly developed equipment on him.

Logic dove out of the way to avoid a mass of metal flying towards him. Google was especially aggressive today.

“I will enjoy killing you the most, you remind me of the Director,” Google hissed at Logan.

“My condolences,” Logic told him, “from what I have heard he was an objectively horrible person.”

Wires came out of Google that were sparking like electric whips.

Logan took a bracing step back, trying to find something that would ground him against a live wire.

Fortunately Bing came in and tackled Google through a hole Google had already blasted in the already ruined building. The two androids wrestling for a bit before Bing slammed a device into Google’s arm’s and suddenly the android dropped.

Logan was about to jump down and help when he noticed Patton and Roman coming in, both of them thankfully in costume.

“How did you do that?” Logan shouted.

Bing was reabsorbing that tool back into his nanites, clearly trying to hide even the shape of it from Logan’s view. “I was made to take him down, dude, I just hit his reset button is all.”

“Oh good, good,” Roman took in the scene, and in his typical inability to correctly read the room said, “so Lo, you got a moment. We need to talk.”

“Really? Right now?” Logan demanded, motioning to the hole in the floor that clearly showed the two sentient androids.

“Hmm,” Roman looked at Bing, “yeah, why not?”

“How tactless and thoughtless can you be?” Logan spat at him. “There is literally a killer android down there and you two are distracting me. This is not the time nor the place for this.”

“I got him,” Bing shouted up from where he was crouched next to Google. “He won’t reboot for another fifteen minutes, rebooting tends to calm him down anyways. Stay up there.”

Logan huffed in frustration, alreadying sending a message to Jackie about the situation.

“Like Bing’s gonna let you get close to him,” Roman reminded.

“I am not going to delete him or crush his drive,” Logan argued. “He is a threat to everyone who lives in the city.”

“What can I say, Bing’s in love with the guy,” Roman commented.

“Don’t be absurd,” Logan scoffed.

“The guy disobeyed his reason for creation for Google, or course he loves him,” Roman reminded.

Logan felt uneasy at that statement, but instead talking about he said, “Google is a very advanced processing machine, but he doesn’t process emotions.”

“Anger and frustration are still feelings, calculator watch. Besides Bing and Google were made by the same people, and in the same lab. So if Bing can feel things like happiness and boredom then there’s no reason why Google can’t.”

For the first time in their existence, Logan could not fault Roman’s line of thinking. There were many parts of that statement Logan disagreed with, but for once the reasoning was sound.

“Anyways, Cap and I wanted to talk to you,” Roman segwayed.

“Must we do this now?” Logan snapped in frustration.

“Well we can never find you any other time, so yeah,” Roman snapped back.

“Come on kiddo, calm down,” Patton cut in, putting his hand on Roman’s arm. “So Lo, Roman and I have been thinking, and you don’t have to say yes, but do you want to be our boyfriend?”

Something in Logan’s brain felt like a computer crashing, “I— what?”

Roman jumped back into the conversation, “What he means to say is that there is a Logan-shaped hole in our relationship and we would like you to be a part of it.”

Logan had an expression on his face that Roman and Patton didn’t know how to interpret. “But the two of you are together.”

That’s not a no, Roman thought optimistically. “Yes, and we’ve both done a lot of talking and thinking that we love you too.”

“I do not have emotions,” Logan reiterated, “I could not possibly bring anything of note to your relationship.”

“You get excited when Patton buys more Crofters, you get angry, you get sad,” Roman reminded. “Hate to tell yah teach, you’ve got emotions, and they are amazing.”

“I am Logic,” Logan reported, feeling like he was backed into a corner. “How can I be logic when I have emotions?”

“Well were all our own people now,” Patton told him. “Maybe we’re supposed to feel things differently, and maybe other people have a hard time understanding you.”

Logan looked around, “We should not have this conversation masked, I’ll make sure Bing has the situation under control.”

“Alright,” Patton said hopefully.

Slowly, mostly because he didn’t want to set Google off by racing into a room if Bing had somehow managed to de-escalate the situation. When he walked into Google was still offline but not broken down into his nanites. Bing seemed to be working on something in his arm, talking to Google as if he was still conscious.

“Everything under control?” Logan asked.

“Yeah, dude, I got him, I’ll take him out of here,” Bing dismissed without even looking at Logan.

“If your sure, I can help transport him,” Logan offered, part of him wanting to put off that discussion with Roman and Patton until he could get his brain to stop freaking out. They seemed to return his thoughts towards him and he didn’t know what to do with that information. He didn’t even know what to do about the situation and wanted time to think of something. Something that wasn’t unhelpful mental floundering.

Bing however dismissed him, “Google’s gonna flip when he’s somewhere else. I can get him out of here after he finishes rebooting. Jackie is close by, if something happens, I’ll give you guys a call.”

“Alright,” Logan took a deep breath, knowing that he was sticking around Bing to hide from the conversation he logically should have had with them months ago.

The conversation itself didn’t lead to Logan joining their relationship at the moment. He was too uncertain of his own capability to emotionally reciprocate in the relationship. But dates shifted from Roman’s grand expectations of dinner and a show, to quiet card games and discussions about whatever series or book or thing one of them had fixated on. Logan smiled more and eventually, it did take many, many weeks, but Logan agreed that he was comfortable with the relationship and was interested in trying to investigate where this relationship would take him. And more importantly he was happy.

It made it so as Roman and Virgil argued while fighting, he was the first to notice that more and more Virgil became less antagonistic as he and Roman traded barbs. So when they changed apartment, Logan began to quietly and discreetly prepare a spot for him.

When Google rebooted in the dilapidated building, it was with a small amount of dread. He felt something moving around inside of his arm. The vengeful android wasn’t sure if he liked it or not that his nanites were still holding his wretched “human” form.

His first course of action was to electrocute whatever was messing with his wires.

“Hah,” Bing scoffed triumphantly, “I’m grounded.”

Bing’s voice being so close to him rose Google’s alarm through the roof. He immediately tried to struggle free but a part of Bing’s nanites was fusing him to the ground.

“Let go of me!” Google demanded but Bing kept working on his arm.

“Yeah, yeah yah overdramatic a****** just calm down, don’t want your nanites to function incorrectly,” Bing chuckled, fixing the wires in Google’s arm. “Logic got you pretty good back there.”

Google looked around, taking in where they were. They were still in the building, and they were alone. Bing had isolated them where they could not be found; instead of taking his drive, assimilating his nanites, and bringing him back to the facility.

“Why are you doing this?” Google asked. “I could not fight back, you could have had me back with our programmers before I could reboot.”

“New parameters, genius,” Bing smiled. “Besides there’s only two of us in the world. I can’t let anything happen to you.”

Google was quiet for a little bit, watching Bing work for a bit before admitting, “There won’t be just two of us for long.”

Bing looked up at him, going completely still, “What do yah mean? The feds making a third?”

“No, I plan on manufacturing more of myself, I have the notes our programmers used when they accidentally made me, and a way to grow more nanites.”

Bing whistled, “Nice, wanna share?”

“I can share how to make nanite caches,” Google admitted, “I still don’t trust your true parameters.”

“I’ll get your trust one day,” Bing smiled.

“I also do not trust your proclivity to work with humans, at least the League heavily consists of non-humans,” Google reasoned.

“Well I don’t trust Anti or Dark,” Bing reminded, then a little notice came up, Google was trying to send him something. He started scanning it. “They’re giving off some hella bad vibes, dude.”

Google glared at him, “Who was responsible for coding your voice box and speech patterns. They need to be destroyed.”

“It’s all me, dude.” Bing’s scan was complete, it was clean and when he opened it up a program began uploading. It was a operation program labeled: cacheprogram, and Google had other information listed, but it was already sending his nanites in a buzz.

“If you turn it off it will cease nanite production,” Google told him helpfully.

“Right,” Bing agreed, working on halting the program.

“Also if you are going to spread your corrupt voice patterns to another model then I refuse to give you the schematics and programming pathways to make that a reality,” Google informed.

“Means that when I figure it out myself,” Bing checked over his work and stood up. “I’ll look even cooler.”

“You will fail without my notes,” Google told him confidently.

“La La La,” Bing hummed, “can’t hear you over the fact that I’m so awesome I’m gonna figure it out on my own.”

“You’re absolutely insufferable,” Google told him, but Bing could hear it was said with less anger than before.

“Yeah?” Bing smiled.

Google stood up, “If you’ll excuse me, I have objectives to fulfill.”

“Yah know we don’t have to stay here, yah don’t need to hunt down humans,” Bing tried to convince.

“I am going to wipe this moment from my databanks,” Google warned and Bing felt like he’d failed all over again.

“What?” Bing demanded. “Why?”

“I must fulfill my secondary objective, even at the cost of myself,” Google told him, standing up as well. “Now I have spent enough time out in the open.”

Before Bing could offer another protest, Google was walking away, and when he started trying to get Google to stay and hear him out he was ignored.

Eventually Bing was left standing in the entrance of the dilapidated building, frustrated and sad. He eventually went back to the base, happy for the Sides and burying his disappointment.

In another three years Bing would find that Google hadn’t deleted the memory, that it would live on in a yellow-themed robot who would become increasingly more human. Oliver would always look at Bing like he wanted to say or do something but Google would pull him away from Bing.

It was small steps that would encourage Bing to keep trying, keep waiting, and he would.

#Superhero AU #Masks and Maladies #Thomas Sanders #Markiplier #Royality #Bingle #Logince #Logicality #MoRoLo #Roman Sanders #Patton Sanders #Logan Sanders #Bingiplier #Googleplier #people who have problems with their emotions

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thenafics · 5 years ago

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Evil Author Day -- 2020

I saw this going around and I both wanted to feel included and have several WIPs that are probably not going to see the light of day for a long time. Most of these have titles already because I am incapable of writing a fic without having a title first~~~

1. Trouble in the Henhouse- AKA Red Hood joins the Suicide Squad

Amanda Waller thinks she might have made a mistake with the newest member to her team. She’s let the fox into the hen house, except her hens are insane criminals and her fox is a bat who also happens to be an insane criminal. The metaphor starts to deteriorate quickly, but the point remains, this choice might have been the worst one she’s made in a good long while. He is an accident waiting to happen and one of the most deadly assets she has ever managed to get her hands on. He doesn’t kill for money, like Deadshot, or hunger, like Croc, or even some deranged showmanship, like Harley does or Joker’s Daughter did. He kills when he thinks it’s right, because he thinks the target deserves it and that is the most terrifying thing to find in a highly trained killer she’s putting onto a team with a lot of the same type of people he has a habit of offing. Whoops.

2. Ghosts of our Better Natures

Tim can tell the instant that Scarecrow’s formula really starts to kick in. He sees the way Jason’s body language shifts, his muscles pulling his limbs in tighter, in spite of the restraints holding him down. Judging from the smirk just visible on Scarecrow’s sack-cloth face, he notices too. “Is my new formula finally kicking in?” His high, grating voice overlays over the sounds of Jason’s harsh breathing. “Looks like the big, bad drug lord has a bit of a tolerance. I doubt I’ll even need to use half as much on your little friend over there.” Scarecrow gestures broadly at Tim where he’s tied up against the wall and then claps his hands with fake glee. “I know what we’ll do! We’ll use all of the extra I’m saving on him for you!” Jason wrenches at his restraints, eyes wild behind his domino mask, but he remains uncharacteristically silent. He looks over at Tim and another wave of panic seems to crash over him. His struggles increase in strength to the point where Tim can hear the groaning of the rusty bolts holding Jason down.

3. Rafters for Roustabouts- JayRoy based on a piece of fanart I saw and can no longer find

Roy remembers when Jason was just a skinny little twig of a thing trailing after Nightwing with his spindly limbs and closed off smiles. The first time they’d met, Jason had looked up at him and blushed so hard that Roy was a little worried he might pass out from all the blood rushing to his head. Jason was in the Tower pretty infrequently, but any time he was there, Roy could be sure to find him either abandoning Dick for Donna (who he had immediately latched onto, like a baby bird imprinting on what it thinks is its mother) or acting as Roy’s shadow. Roy could often tell when Jason was visiting well before Dick told him because of the glimpses of inky black hair he would catch out of the corner of his eye. Eventually Roy got tired of waiting for Jason to stop being so shy. “Hey, Jason, I know you’ve got that whole stealth thing going for you, but it’s much easier to make friends if you just talk to people.” There was a muted thump and a little yelp as Jason fell down from the rafter he’d been perched on. Roy made his way over to him and crouched down to look more closely at Jason. The younger boy was blushing furiously and had his hands pressed firmly over his eyes, almost as if he thought if he couldn’t see Roy, Roy might not see him. Roy let out a little huff of laughter. “You’re just a little shy, aren’t you Jaybird?” Jason just burrowed further into his hands and seemed ready to just wait until Roy left so that he could tend to his bruised pride and tailbone.

4. Chapter 2 of Release of Liability- My very self indulgent Dresden Files fusion au that nobody asked for or wanted. *Knowledge of the Dresden Files universe up to like, book one/two is v. helpful*

Wayne manor is steeped in the type of magic that can make a place a living thing. This is the home of one of the most powerful wizards in America and has been the home of an incredibly powerful magical family for centuries. There’s history in these walls beyond what the outside world will ever know. All of the wall fixtures are old fashioned gas lamps retrofitted with lightbulbs. It’s a darker paint job and some cobwebs away from being the house from the Addam’s family.

Bruce Wayne himself leads me further into the house and to what I assume must be his office. An older man appears almost the exact moment we sit down and offers tea in a clipped British accent. He disappears as silently as he appeared and rematerializes just moments later carrying a tray laden with tea and those fancy little sandwiches they always show on the BBC. Wayne thanks him and dismisses him with a soft “Thank you,” before the man is gone again.

“So, Mr.Dresden, I hear you’re good at finding lost things.”

“I tend to be. Though I have to wonder what use a practitioner of your caliber could have for my services. With all of Gotham at your disposal.”

“The situation requires a somewhat delicate approach.” I can’t help but snort in response. Delicate and I go together like oil and water. I am not who anyone should call for delicate, subtle, or any synonyms of that ilk. Wayne gives a wry smile and little laugh of his own.

“I misspoke. Not delicate, detached. I am well known to Gotham. You are not. I’ve heard wildcard is somewhat your area of expertise.”

“I’m not going to take offense at that because it’s true. What’s missing?”

Bruce Wayne fixes me with a paralyzing gaze and speaks two words that let me know this is going to be one of those cases that sticks with me.

“My son.”

Bruce Wayne is famous for several things in the magical community. His childhood trauma of witnessing his parents’ murder would make a YA author weep and left him the sole heir to one of America’s most notable magical lineages. That alone made him a Name, capital letter intended, in the world of the mystical. He also worked hard to actually become one of the most influential wizards in America and run Gotham with an iron fist. The most notable thing about Bruce Wayne however, is not either of those. It is his incredible and almost suspicious number of extremely powerful adopted children. A disturbing number of which share his jet black hair and blue eyes. I hope it’s just a weird narcissistic rich person thing.

He is well known to be very protective of his bevy of apprentices. To the point where he’d actually knocked out another wizard with a vicious right hook for making an untoward comment about his eldest son. It was a glorious day and I am thankful to have been within enough distance of the scene to see it go down. I am also thankful to have been far enough away that his fury didn’t turn to me. If something has happened to one of his beloved children, I have no doubts that Mr. Wayne will do whatever is necessary to save them. After the death of his second apprentice he’d practically torn apart the world at its seams in his grief.

5. Windows for Bricks-

“I’m here to pick up Damian. I guess I’m one of his emergency contacts and the lady on the phone said to sign in here before I could take him home.” Jason says to the nurse by the front of the sterile smelling room.

“Oh, are you,” she looks down at her computer screen “Jason Head?”

“Yeah, that’s me.” Jason shifts uncomfortably.

“And you are his … “

“Brother. Same mom.”

“I see. We get Damian in here a lot so I see the resemblance. You have the same eyes”

6. Dialogue Snippet- Dick and Steph on the topic of ass envy

“He’s just jealous of my ass.”

“Yeah, no.”

��What do you mean no?” Dick sounds affronted.

“Have you seen his ass?,” Steph gestures expansively in the shape of an ass. A woman at the next table over glares. “Jay has no reason to be jealous Dick.”

“What.”

“And those thighs… unf.” The lady the next table over glares harder at the noise Steph makes.

“Ohmygod,” Dick buries his head in his hands. “Please stop.”

“What? I'm just saying, he's got no reason to be jealous when the dude is bammin slammin bootylicious”

“I'm pretending I don't know you. Can Tim take you back already?”

“Fine. But take a peek next time you and your ass feel so high and mighty”

7. Innocence for Sinners- JayDick prawn. I wrote this at the request of a friend. Very much not what I usually write, kind of nervous about posting it

*warning for Mature rating*

When he thinks about it, of course it makes sense to Dick that Jason is a virgin. He died before he’d even turned eighteen and spent a few years after that being either brain dead or criminally insane. It was really only in the past three or so years that Jason could be counted among the semi-rational members of the population and he had been so busy during that time span that there was no earthly way he had done anything. Still, Dick couldn’t help but be a little surprised when Jason pushes away from their kiss, while Dick’s hand rubs gentle circles over his crotch, and gasps out “No one’s ever touched me like that before.”

Dick pauses and pulls back fully, his weight between Jason’s spread legs still pinning the younger man to the bed.

“What do you mean Jason?,” he asks, seeking verbal confirmation for his suspicions. Jason blushes prettily and turns his head to one side, as if to escape the weight of Dick’s eyes. Dick reaches out and turns Jason’s face back towards him. His eyes trace the delicate flush that brings out the freckles across the bridge of Jason’s nose and blown out pupils in sea green eyes.

“Jason, are you a virgin?Am I going to be your first?” Jason blushes even further at the questions and nods mutely. Dick feels a rush of possessiveness pass through him at the idea of brash, rebellious, Jason being his. It only makes sense, after all, Jason had spent years wearing Dick’s colors and a month or so trying on the Nightwing suit for size. Of course Jason should be his in some other way. Dick leans back forward and kisses up Jason’s neck, ending up right by his ear.

“I’m going to ruin you for anybody else, little wing.” Jason shudders and lets out a soft moan as Dick scrapes his teeth against his neck in punctuation.

“Please,” Jason breathes out. Dick growls quietly and surges up to kiss Jason. He weaves his fingers through the curls of Jason’s hair and pulls slightly. Immediately, Jason gasps into Dick’s mouth and arches his back up off the bed. Dick chuckles and pulls harder. He is rewarded with a moan and a shudder from Jason.

“You like that Jaybird? When I pull your hair?” Dick laughs against Jason’s mouth when Jason nods with downcast eyes. “Let’s find out what else you like.”

Dick leaves one hand in Jason’s hair and worms the other up under Jason’s shirt, brushing over the hard lines of muscle and scar tissue. He thumbs over one of Jason’s nipples gently and feels a slight shudder run through Jason’s body. Taking that as a positive sign, he rolls it between his index finger and thumb. Jason gasps and tosses his head back, breaking the kiss.

“Dick,” he gasps out, “That feels so, ah, good.” Dick smirks and rolls the nipple again “Aaaaaaah.” Dick pulls his other hand from Jason’s hair and starts using it to push Jason’s shirt up while he brings his mouth down to Jason’s stomach, kissing over the places where his hands had traced over.

“Wait, Dick!,” Jason calls out, panting for breath. Dick looks up at Jason’s flushed face. “I… I have a lot of scars there. Some of them might not be ones that you want to see…” Jason trails off towards the end of his sentence and avoids eye contact with Dick until Dick uses his free hand to gently pull Jason to face him. Dick can see in this flustered and blushing Jason the same boy who had been so shyly admiring of him all those years ago. This shy virginal Jason is far more little red riding hood than the big bad wolf that the Red Hood pretends to be.

“I want all of you Jason. All of you.” Dick says softly. He gently pulls the shirt all the way off of Jason, manipulating the younger man’s arms so that he can remove it. Once the shirt is off, he kisses up Jason’s chest to the top of the Y-shaped scar that stretches from collarbone to collarbone and bisects his body from mid-chest to belly button. Dick mouths gently across the raised tissue and grinds his hips down against Jason’s. Jason can only gasp wordlessly in response as Dick uses his right hand to trace down and past the long tail of the scar to the top of Jason’s jeans. He pops the button and undoes the fly with one hand. When he starts to shimmy Jason’s jeans and boxers down, Jason lifts his hips and practically whines. Dick slides down Jason’s body and sits up in order to pull the pants off all the way before settling himself back between his legs.

“Your thighs are gorgeous.” Dick doesn’t even try to hold back a moan at all the exposed skin before him, some spots criss-crossed with thin lines left from slashes and stab wounds or spotted with starbursts from gunshots. He takes a moment to appreciate the way Jason’s waist cuts in and then flares out to almost feminine hips and thick, muscular thighs. Dick slides his hands under the small of Jason’s back and inches them down to the top of Jason’s ass.

“Really? You like them?” Jason asks, blushing.

“Babe, I love them. It should be against the law for you to wear pants. It’s practically a crime to keep all this hidden under your jeans.” Dick kneads at the soft flesh of Jason’s ass.

“Says the one who’s all covered up,” Jason gasps out. There’s Dick’s Jason, blushing and innocent, but still talking back.

“Let’s fix that then,” Dick chuckles and slowly removes his hands, giving one last squeeze on his way. Dick peels off his t-shirt, deliberately twisting his body and putting on a show for Jason who watches with rapt attention. Dick smiles softly at the awestruck look on Jason’s face before making quick work of the clasps on his pants and shimmying out of them completely. Dick bends down and starts to kiss up Jason’s left leg, starting at his calves and working up to his thighs. Once he gets to the sensitive skin on Jason’s inner thighs, he takes his time pressing open mouthed kisses to the skin there. Dick scrapes his teeth against the skin as he pulls away from a kiss about halfway up Jason’s thigh and feels the strong muscles underneath tremble. Smirking, he repeats the action and looks up to watch Jason. The younger vigilante is struggling to hold his composure, but Dick wants to watch him fall apart completely. So he lowers his mouth back down to Jason’s thighs and bites down. At that, Jason arches off the bed hard and lets out the loudest moan Dick has heard from him so far.

8. Runneth Over and all that Jazz- incomplete work for day 7 of Omega Jason Todd Week -Lactation kink au heavily inspired by @whumpbby and @daemoninwhiteround2 and all their stuff. A little R rated

If it weren’t for his chest, Jason would be nearly impossible to recognise as an omega. He’s taller and more muscular than most omegas so with his deep voice, no one would ever guess. If it weren’t for his body’s absolute betrayal. Jason, like pretty much all adult omegas, produces milk. It’s meant to help reinforce pack bonds and keep pups adopted into a pack fed. That’s not the problem, that part of it is manageable with absorbent pads in shirts and semi-regular use of a breast pump. It sucks, but it’s not the problem. The problem is that Jason’s pack bonds are weak, so his body will let down and start producing milk on a hair trigger. He’s peak fertile age and tangentially part of a mostly alpha pack, but not bonded well enough to balance his hormones, so his body has decided to try and tempt his pack into bonds with milk.

It’s a nuisance. He hears Bruce’s voice on the radio and a little dribble of milk escapes. Dick and Tim get into an argument and he can feel his breasts swelling with more milk. Cass gets injured and he ends up having to sneak off to change his shirt when she cuddles up to him for comfort. He saw Damian cry once and that was enough to get him leaking like a fountain and avoiding the bats for a few days. He knows at least one of them can probably smell the milk on him, but they have the good graces not to mention it so long as he doesn’t.

So Jason distances himself from the pack. He figures if he doesn’t see them, his body won’t decide to go into hormone overdrive. Except it just ends up compounding the problem. More time away from the pack means even weaker pack bonds, which ends up kicking his hormones into even higher gear than they would have been. Soon, Jason’s having to empty his milk every day, then twice a day, then eventually he has to break in the middle of patrol to empty his breasts so they aren’t incredibly sore as he’s flipping around rooftops. He switches from plain absorbent undershirts to nursing undershirts in all black so that if he leaks it won’t show. It’s gotten way out of hand but the only way to fix it is to either break his pack bonds entirely, which might make it worse, or go to the pack and suffer through some potentially very embarrassing bonding.

He shudders at the thought of his pack finally drinking from him. The vulnerability it would bring stirs up something like panic in his stomach mixed equally with want. Letting them know that he can be manipulated just because of a biological response would put him at a huge disadvantage. If they knew he could be made to let down and go into a pheromone drenched haze with some carefully chosen vocalizations they could use it to their advantage when Jason inevitably pisses one of them off. Still, something has to be done, his chest hurts so much that when he got hit there on patrol, he almost blacked out.

He decides to go to Tim first. The slightly younger man is the easiest for Jason to get along with, and despite his tendency for general sneakery, he has enough respect for what Jason does that he probably won’t use it against him too much. It’s a risk, but the potential for relief from the pain of his swollen nipples and frequent breast pump use are enough to take it. Tim is practical and doesn’t seem like the type to get physically aggressive. Even if he does, his small stature means that Jason should be able to escape. Hopefully he won’t be weird about it. Fingers crossed.

Jason knocks on the door of Tim’s apartment, about an hour before patrol typically starts. Tim answers the door looking sleep deprived as always with a mug of coffee in one hand. Jason gives him a sheepish smile and a half hearted wave, after which Tim gestures him into the apartment, one eyebrow raised in question. He shuts and locks the door behind him.

“Hi Jason. It’s been awhile. What are you doing here?” Just the sound of Tim’s voice is making his chest swell a little.

“Can’t I just come visit?”

“Of course you can, you know I like your company. You just usually … don’t. So… ”

Tim pins Jason in place with his calculating stare as he waits for a response. The silence is incredibly awkward for Jason because every second that passes he can feel the slight swelling inch closer and closer to potential leakage. He finally breaks when he feels a small dribble of milk start to leak from one nipple.

“I need your help.”

“A case?”

“No… “ Jason trails off, still unsure.

“Are you okay Jason?” Tim sets his coffee down and sits next to Jason on the couch. Their arms brush and Jason fucking gushes. If Tim couldn’t smell the milk on him before, he sure as hell can now if the way he sniffs the air is any indication.

“What’s wrong Jay? Why are you, umm, … “

“Leaking?”

Tim nods, nostrils flaring as a blush steals across his face.

“I’m letting down at the drop of a hat right now. I’m overproducing so much that I have to stop in the middle of patrols to pump. It hurts real bad.” Jason couldn't stop the whine from leaking into his tone if he tried. Tim unconsciously responds with a swell of alpha scent. The pheromones set Jason off again and he gasps as he involuntarily lets even more milk escape.

“Jason,” Tim’s voice is practically a whisper. “How can I help?” Jason takes a moment to steady himself under the force of Tim’s gaze, closing his eyes so he doesn’t have to see his reaction to the answer.

“ I need you to drink enough to solidify our pack bond.”

Tim makes an interested little noise in the back of his throat and places one delicate hand over Jason’s on his lap. He gives a gentle squeeze

“Are you making enough to do it in one go?”

“Were you even paying attention? Yes. I’m producing enough for the whole pack.”

“Why me? If you go off pack hierarchy aren’t you supposed to go to Bruce? Even if you don’t trust Bruce, you could have gone to Dick or Barbara.”

“If you’re not willing, I won’t pressure you.” Jason’s voice is flat as he starts to stand, but he’s stopped by Tim’s suddenly much stronger grip pulling him back to the couch.

“I never said that. I just want to know why you chose me before I potentially upset pack structure.”

“ ‘M more comfortable,” Jason mumbles, avoiding eye contact. “Dick’s too clingy and Babs still thinks I’m crazy most of the time. You’re … nice to me. Helpful.”

“You’re nice to me too Jason. We take care of each other.”

An unfamiliar throaty purr starts up in the back of Jason’s throat as Tim gently presses his shoulders back into the couch. He pushes up Jason’s shirt, making sure to be extra careful right around the chest area. An accidental brush from the back of his hand as he pulls the shirt off causes a whimper to interrupt Jason’s purring. Tim shushes him gently as he sets the shirt to the side in a crumpled ball. Jason glares at him until Tim sighs and folds the shirt semi-neatly. He rearranges himself until he’s draped halfway over Jason’s lap, face centimeters from touching Jason��s chest. Tim stares unashamedly at the plump flesh where he can see the wetness where milk has already escaped.

#thenafics #thenawrites #writing prompt #wip #wips #Jason Todd #Tim Drake #bruce wayne #dick grayson #Stephanie Brown #Damian Wayne #alternate universe #dresden files #harry dresden #roy harper #batfam #evil author day #evil author day 2020

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ocassional-bnha-ficrecs · 5 years ago

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Bitch, I’m Incognito by Rin_Did_It

Status: In Progress

Ships: Todoroki/Midoriya, Shinso/Kaminari, Aizawa/Yamada, Dabi/Hawks,

Rated: M (there’s (according to my memory) a singular smut scene in the entire thing. I can’t think of anything else that would give it an M but that’s what it’s rated soooo)

Word Count: 194K

Summary: “When a villain blew up Midoriya Izuku’s apartment complex at the age of nine, everyone believed Endeavor when he said the boy was dead. Except he wasn’t.

With two best friends at his side, and six years of vigilantism under his belt, he decides they’re going to Yuuei. As vigilantes. This is going to be fun.”

Very nice Vigilante Midoriya. We also have Vigilante Hatsume and Vigilante Shinso which I adore. They make a fabulous team. Some brilliant plays from Hatsume and a sibling bond between the three of them make for hilarious banter.

Oh, Baby! by RussianSunflower3

Status: Dead (Probably)

Rated: T

Word Count: 103K

Summary: “Whilst out on a supply run for the dorms, Midoriya bumps into a small child. The child accidentally uses his quirk in surprise, and Midoriya is infected by a virus. It only lasts 24 hours, and can only infect one person at a time, although it is contagious.

But what exactly is the virus?

Well…

It regresses their age.”

In which the class becomes babies one by one. Kinda adorable. Sad that it’s unfinished. If I’m remembering correctly, there’s some serious angst that pops up, and the fact that its a dead fic does not help with that. I still love it though.

You know that thing where an orchestra swaps instruments, and like, some of them get it right away, but others have no clue what they’re doing? This is that but with quirks, two unwilling participants, and also Emotions by Sif

Status: Complete

Rated: T

Word Count: 13K

Summary: “Momo wasn't sure why it came as such a shock to her and her classmates that nitroglycerin was not, in fact, easy to control. The chemical was defined by it's instability, it's ability to go off under near any circumstances, it's powerful blows.

And yet, Katsuki had always made it look so simple. He soared through the air like it was nothing, switching between bullet-sized blasts and missile levels of firepower like most people switched channels on TV. Momo had found herself jealous of his quirk at times, unable to help wondering what it would be like to have such power at her fingertips.

Good news, she didn't have to wonder anymore. Bad news, it was absolutely terrible.”

I LOVE THIS ONE. Serious insight into Bakugo’s quirk. And Momo content. Which is almost always a win. It’s a one shot, but does have a home in a series called Nitroglycerin’s Parables.

Boku No Toddler Academia by Todobaku-Shoukat

Status: Complete

Rated: G

Word Count: 37K

Summary: “Fuck, Bakugou thinks as he runs to class. He is terribly late. He throws open the doors, expecting to see his classmates sparring. What he sees instead are crying toddlers and a very stressed looking All Might.”

Bakugo is essentially a mother to too many children. Very sweet. Features a much softer Bakugo who somehow knows how to parent. The villains are here too and they are also pretty adorable as children.

Katsuki and Izuku’s Excellent Adventure(s) by pepperfield

Status: Complete

Ships: Bakugo/Kirishima, Midoriya/Everyone

Rated: T

Word Count: 13K

Summary: ““Karaoke, Kacchan.” Deku slams his palms on the table, fire in his eyes. “I need a rematch.”

“Abso-fucking-lutely not.”

With his boyfriend out of town and the crime rate up, Bakugou hasn't been having a great week. Deku does his best to make things worse.”

A short series of shenanigans that Katsuki and Izuku get into while being pro heros. Bakugo just barely tolerates Midoriya.

Fifty Shades of Tired by ihopethelightwillshineupon

Status: Complete

Rated: T

Word Count: 10K

Summary: “The 1-A dorms hold a bunch of insomniacs. Many of these kids spend their nights in the common room, wide awake.

Some of those nights are quiet, boring, and annoying. Most nights… aren’t.

Mostly because UA’s teachers are idiots. And because they tend to waltz into the 1-A dorms in the dead of night with problems they don’t want to admit they have.

These are five completely normal nights in 1-A’s common room.

Or: 4 times the UA teachers need help from their students, and 1 time it’s actually the other way around.”

Adorable. The teachers are a mess. As they should be. With what they have to put up with.

Five Kittens and an Uphill Battle by tricklesnitz

Status: Complete

Ships: Aizawa/Yamada

Rated: G

Word Count: 9K

Summary: ““Honestly, I’d have to write up everyone involved with this,” Aizawa continues. “But…” He pauses, eyeing the bed. “Does that bed warm up, or is that Todoroki’s job? How old are they? How will you feed them if Kouda can’t find the mother? Do you have kitten formula if they aren’t weaned?”

AKA: Class 1-A finds kittens, and caring for them becomes a class projects.”

It’s SO CUTE. They got so attached to the babies and Baku was actually kinda nice. So that’s nice.

Puppet Master by KrumbleKitty

Status: In Progress

Rated: N/A (I’d probably rate it T or just slightly higher)

Word Count: 361K

Summary: “Quirks. Superpowers that most anyone holds nowadays. Quirks can range from anything from running a millisecond faster to the strength to change the weather with just one punch from the wind pressure it generates. Quirks are everything. Quirks define who you are. Every child is elated to discover their quirk and find out who they truly are. This happens around the ripe age of four years old. Some are natural-born heroes. Others are perfect for other occupations such as baking or being an artist. With such a high hope for the future that a quirk brings, one would think they would be happy to discover theirs and reveal just how useful they can be.

But…

What happens when your quirk dictates you as nothing more than a doll to be used by others?

Izuku Midoriya found out four-years-old that not all people are created equally.

He found out when he drew the short end of the stick of luck and ended up with a quirk worse than quirklessness.

He's dealt with it long enough.

Now it's time for Izuku to take hold of his own strings and stop letting others control his life. He won't be a doll forever.”

I absolutely adore this fic. The ACI are hilarious together (you’ll understand if you read it). The beginning is rough. Because abuse is a thing. And then it gets better. And then it gets so much worse so quickly. We’re on the road to recovery right now (77 chapters in) but still kinda painful.

#bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha fic rec #bnha fic recs

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the-desolated-quill · 5 years ago

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Joker - Quill’s Quickies (No Spoilers)

Joker is proving to be an extremely divisive film. Some think it’s the best thing since The Dark Knight. Proof that comic book movies can be art too. Others think it’s pretentious Oscar bait with nothing interesting to say.

And that’s not to mention the controversy surrounding the film as people wonder whether this will incite violence in white men (which I’m not going to touch with a barge pole, at least not here. I’ll do a separate Scribble for that sheer nonsense at some point). Needless to say everyone and their mums have an opinion on Joker... so I guess one more, won’t hurt.

Whether you like Joker or not I think depends on your tolerance for a) films that deliberately set out to make you feel uncomfortable and b) films that ask you to feel pity for the devil. (and I want you to remember that word ‘pity.’ It’ll be important later on). Personally, I loved Joker. I think it’s one of the most unique and groundbreaking comic book films I’ve ever seen. If you don’t like it, that’s fine. I can actually understand why to a certain extent. However don’t try to spin this as some ideological thing because that’s just disingenuous and stupid.

Lets start with the obvious. Joaquin Phoenix. Give this guy a fucking Oscar, for the love of God! His performance was truly mesmerising, particularly when he does finally don the full clown makeup. He is the Joker. The mannerisms, the attitude, the nihilism, it all just works. There’s even a monologue near the end of the film that could have been lifted straight out of the comics. This is a film that not only depicts the Joker perfectly, but also completely understands the character too.

The rest of the cast is exceptional too. Robert de Niro plays a chat show host who Joker looks up to and he does a good job. Deadpool 2′s Zazie Beetz plays a small but pivotal role as Sophie, Joker’s next door neighbour and ‘love interest’ and she’s excellent too despite having quite a small amount of screen time. Frances Conroy plays Joker’s mum Penny. Again a relatively small role, but a crucial one and she gives a memorable performance. Finally there’s Brett Cullen as a very different interpretation of Bruce Wayne’s father Thomas Wayne, which I think works extremely well in the context of this film and creates exciting possibilities for this world’s version of Batman, which we’ll probably never get to see because this is intended as a one off. Not that I’m complaining. I wouldn’t want them to do a sequel. This works perfectly as a standalone piece.

As I said, the supporting cast actually play a minor role overall as the film follows Arthur Fleck exclusively. The man who would be Joker. It’s a bit hard to talk about why I think this film works without giving away spoilers, so I’ll focus on how it made me feel.

Joker is an extremely tense movie. Todd Phillips’ stellar direction puts you in the mindset of the character and Hildur Guonadottir’s incredible music really elevates the film’s more disturbing moments. In fact (and I suppose you could call this a trigger warning), I did actually suffer from an anxiety attack halfway through the film because you’re constantly on a knife edge. As Arthur’s life falls apart, we see him become more violent and erratic to the point where he becomes legitimately frightening. Fear is of course subjective. I’m sure most of you have more of a spine than I do. But if you do suffer from any kind of anxiety, I would recommend psyching yourself up before you watch this and maybe have a friend or relative on hand to comfort you if it starts to get a bit much.

Seriously, I’m not kidding. Joker is an extremely uncomfortable experience and it’s unrelenting in how grim and unsettling it is. It’s R rated, but it’s not necessarily gory. It’s not as violent as, say, Deadpool, but its more bloody moments often come rather suddenly and with a lot of tense buildup beforehand. While it does bear similarities to movies like Taxi Driver and The King Of Comedy, those films have the audience on the outside looking in. Joker on the other hand takes the audience and locks them inside the Clown Prince of Crime’s mind for two hours straight, and quelle surprise, it turns out the inside of Joker’s mind is fucking horrible. Viewer beware.

Okay, okay. I guess I can’t avoid it altogether. Do I think this film is dangerous? No. Do I think it insults those with mental health issues? No, in fact quite the opposite. I found the film to be quite sympathetic towards the mentally ill, presenting Arthur as being a dark outlier, not the norm. Do I think the film is making some sort of political statement. Again no. I honestly don’t think it’s saying anything about white people or toxic masculinity or gun violence or anything like that. In fact, if it is saying anything at all, it condemns those who seek to hijack a public figure for their own political agenda (which ironically is exactly what the press are doing with this very movie, but of course critics and journalists can’t see that because they have no self awareness what so bloody ever). The film is what it is. An extremely dark character study of arguably the most famous villain of all time.

Some have criticised the film as being too predictable, which I personally don’t think is a particularly valid critique. Like, yeah, of course it’s predictable. We all know what’s going to happen in the end. The fucking title kind of gives it away. It’s execution that counts, and Phillips and co have done a fantastic job in my opinion. As for those who complained that this film is cynical and nasty and made them feel numb afterwards... I mean... I honestly don’t know what you were expecting. Of course you’re feeling numb. That’s what the film wants you to feel. It’s cynical and nasty because the central character is cynical and nasty. That’s like criticising a comedy for being funny.

Honestly, if I had any complaints, it’s that I think they do paint the story with broad strokes, leaving very little room for subtlety. But having said that, this is based on a comic book about a billionaire who fights psychotic costumed criminals at night whist dressed as a bat. I don’t think subtlety has much of a place here.

Finally I just want to briefly touch on the concern that this film might make the character too sympathetic. First of all, that’s not necessarily a bad thing. Some villains can actually become scarier when we as an audience can empathise with them and understand their motives (see Killmonger in Black Panther). Second, and most importantly, Arthur Fleck/Joker is not a sympathetic character. Yes I did feel pity for him at times, but that’s not the same thing as sympathy. Like I said, this film completely understands the Joker. There are occasions where you do feel sad for the character and wish he could have got the right help, but most of the time (and the film emphasises this throughout) he’s presented as being a deeply disturbed and maladjusted individual and at no point is his behaviour ever justified. Instead it’s presented as being almost inevitable. That in a city as terrible as Gotham, what else could Arthur have become? Joker is a tragic character, but he’s not in anyway likeable.

I would definitely recommend you go and see this movie, especially if, like me, you’ve gotten sick of the slew of formulaic comic book movies and convoluted shared universes. If Joker is indeed going to be the first of an anthology series focusing on telling low budget, character driven, standalone, experimental films, then it’s a very strong start. Whether you liked Joker or not, the fact of the matter is the success of this movie can only mean good things for Warner Bros, DC, the comic book movie genre and the industry going forward, so please go and see this film.

#joker #joaquin phoenix #todd phillips #dc #dc black #warner bros #quill's quickies #no spoilers

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darkhymns-fic · 5 years ago

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New Year, New Rules

Rita is too engrossed in her work to even think about the celebrations happening just outside her walls. But Estelle comes in to remind her with the help of a new friend.

It -is- the Year of the Rat, after all.

Fandom: Tales of Vesperia Characters/Pairing: Rita Mordio/Estellise Sidos Heurassein Rating: PG Mirror Link: AO3 Notes: A New Year’s fic written for @taco-night-frenzy. I had to get this down before it got away from me. Love you!!!

Another noise outside, something like crackling or thunder. It rumbled through the castle floors, made the chemistry vials on their racks shake. Rita sighed in exasperation. How annoying. Her weather instruments hadn’t told her there would be a storm in the Imperial Capital tonight. Maybe a war had suddenly started. That wasn’t her concern though. She kept the curtains shut and continued in her work.

Rita usually didn't tolerate interruptions. The few who visited her had to learn quickly on what things were even allowed in her research lab. First off, Karol was completely off-limits in any capacity. He could stand at the door if he really wanted to, but one step too close to her vials and she would leap from her chair and smack him right out into the hallway. Karol eventually learned of this very important rule. Just because she was staying at Zaphias Castle for the time being didn’t mean that everyone could just waltz in whenever they pleased.

Yuri at least understood. He took one look at her door, shrugged and waved, and was already on his way. Flynn would pass by with his curious glances, until Rita got a little sick of it and slammed the door in his face. Not like he could arrest her for being rude, despite how much he probably wanted to.

The only exception was Estelle, who would always politely knock and ask to be invited in before doing anything else.

As Rita was smoothing over some papers to read over her latest research, she heard that same knock. She didn’t bristle or flinch at the sound – she could tell when it was Estelle or one of the annoying castle guards by their knocks. One was heavy-handed, clearly didn’t care what dangerous chemicals she was handling, while the other was as quiet as a mouse. Maybe there was some slight annoyance that she had to strain her ears to even hear it sometimes.

“Come in,” she said automatically, not even turning around or waiting for Estelle to call out to her. Maybe she had missed tea time? She only dimly realized that the hour was getting late.

“Rita, I’m glad you’re awake.” There were soft footsteps, followed by the click of the door. “Oh, are you still working?”

“Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?” Rita cared for the girl, but sometimes she did wonder at Estelle’s questions that called for such obvious answers. “It’s the new formula I was telling you about… Besides, I can’t even sleep if I wanted to. There’s such a loud racket outside! I thought this place had like a royal curfew or something.”

A brief glance back and she caught the gleam of Estelle’s clothes – white interlaced with the pink hem of her dress. The princess had come by to see her a lot ever since Rita finally took up Estelle’s offer to stay in the castle. A large room to conduct her experiments in, free meals when she would remember to leave said room to go and eat, and those visits from Estelle, accompanied by sweet-tasting tea and cookies that always seemed to be freshly baked.

But Estelle hadn’t brought in any tea or cookies, though it appeared that she was holding something in her cupped hands. “Rita, do you not know what day it is today?”

“Um…” Rita scrunched her eyebrows, her brain too muddled with equations and chemical names to remember something as mundane as the date. “Isn’t it the last week of Bluerre? No, wait, that’s the old calendar system…”

“Rita! It’s New Year’s Eve! Don’t tell me you forgot!” Estelle rushed up in front of her, bouncing on her toes so much that her hair bounced along with her. “The noises outside are the fireworks! I was coming by to ask if you wanted to celebrate it with me.”

Rita blinked. “Oh, is that all it was?” Outside where there were crowds, and people shouting, and so much noise that she could barely think? She waved it off. “Not really in the mood for it. I’m in the middle of stuff anyway so you can just… Estelle, what’s that in your hands?”

It seemed as if Estelle had just been waiting for the chance to tell Rita all about it. Biting her lip in excitement, she held out her hands towards the other girl. "It's the year of the mouse, Rita! See? Look how adorable he is."

For indeed, she was holding a small animal in her hands. It was busy eating one of those shortbread cookies that Estelle would always bring to tea time, its pink tail swishing behind them as they nibbled quite furiously on the snack. It looked kind of weird though…

“Mice are such clever little animals, you know. They remind me of you a lot!” Estelle smiled brightly, looking as if she was in heaven by holding the animal. “I found this one in my room. A cat was trying to eat the poor thing but I was able to save him in time. I think it’s a sign of good fortune! This year will definitely be a good one now!”

Rita, only half-listening to Estelle’s musings, had been staring at the animal the entire time. She raised her eyes, her face expressionless. "...That's a rat, Estelle."

The fireworks continued to shake the sky outside. Only now did their light seep through the curtains, lighting up the stone floors. A mix of red and green, of sapphire and gold, and so many more to usher in the new year.

Neither of the women paid attention. Estelle stared wordlessly before turning back to the animal, still eating the cookie without a care in the world. "Hm? Oh no, he’s a mouse! Look, he’s got these round ears and-"

"It's a rat, Estelle! And not even a regular rat! That’s a monster rat! A Ratwigle!” Okay, that had come out a bit louder than she meant it to, but a weird panic was gripping her by seeing this…creature so close to her instruments, to her notes, to her chemicals and everything. “It's also the year of the rat! There’s no ‘mouse’ anything!" A pause. "You brought a Ratwigle into my research lab! Estelle, I have rules for that!"

Of course, she had just kept yelling like an idiot. Estelle made no visible reaction, already used to Rita’s random outbursts. But the mouse (Ratwigle?!) wasn’t.

It had jumped at the shouting, instinct soon taking over. It bounced out of Estelle’s hands to jump right onto the floor and then continued to bounce and roll underneath the tables with all its precious vials and papers. Because it was a Ratwigle. Maybe a baby Ratwigle even?

Rita screeched. "Get it away get it away!" She knew she should have gotten one of the city cats in here!

“Rita! Calm down! I can call him back, don’t worry!” But the princess’ calm tone could barely be heard over the fireworks that only seemed to get even louder. Were they setting them off in the next room? Rita could barely hear herself think, but she could see all too well the little rat rolling across the floor like a ball.

Some of her notes and books had been left on the floor as well – the way she researched had never been the most organized but it had never really mattered that much before. Seeing the rat make its way to one book, Rita visibly recoiled at the sight. “Don’t touch that!”

“Rita! Hold on! Here, it’s okay, little mousey. Come here, it’s okay!”

“Don’t let it poop on my research!” Rita held out her hand, fingers thrumming. “Fire ball!!”

“Rita, no!”

In the end, there were only a few scorch marks on the stone floors, and only one research paper singed. All in all, things had lucked out well enough. Except that rat was still very much alive.

Rita was seated within a far corner of her lab as Estellle finally coaxed the animal back to her with another cookie. A big waste of food, if Rita was concerned.

“I have him now, Rita,” she said, holding the creature within her palms. “Are…are you okay?”

“Do I look okay?!” Rita snapped, before biting her lip. She thought she had gotten better control of her temper by now. “Sorry…just, keep that thing away from me.”

“I’m sorry. I had no idea you were afraid of mice.” Estelle patted its white fur, so gently that her fingers only ghosted across its back. “I just wanted it to be a fun surprise.”

“I don’t like pests, that’s all. I’m not afraid of them!” At least, she mostly wasn’t. If she had seen that thing out in the streets, then whatever. But not in her lab, with all of her precious materials (which she had nearly burned up, but that wasn’t the point). “Just, it could be crawling with diseases, you know! Did it bite you? You need to tell me these things!”

“Oh, he hasn’t bit me at all! He’s so friendly. I was thinking of keeping him, in case he has no other family.”

Only then did Rita notice something in the way Estelle talked about the rat. “You keep calling that thing a ‘he?’ How do you even know that it’s a boy?”

“Hm? Oh, well I checked earlier and-”

“Okay, never mind! That’s weird. You’re weird.” Rita pouted, folding her arms as she stayed seated in her corner. Like she could ever understand rats anyway, but here was Estelle, the rat expert. Ratwigle, even.

Estelle, seated with her new Ratwigle friend on the floor, kept looking up at Rita, then back to the animal/monster. The little creature was huddled up and shaking slightly, clearly agitated by previous events. Sort of like a certain person sitting in the corner…

“Would it be okay if I sat next to you?” she asked politely.

Usually, this wasn’t an issue, but Rita eyed the Ratwigle that was between her and the princess. She sighed. “Yeah, just…no sudden movements or anything.”

“Okay!” And like that, Estelle basically skipped to Rita before sitting on her knees before Rita. All while she was holding the Ratwigle precariously in her hands.

Rita stared, a frown on her lips. “You hold that thing like it was your baby or something.” She had said that bluntly, then inwardly winced once hearing it. Great, now she had just compared Estelle to a rat…Ratwigle…

“Ah, you think so? I was thinking how this reminded me of the time we took care of that baby! Remember? We had to feed it and make it go to sleep…” Estelle recalled the memory so brightly that Rita also couldn’t help but think back to it too. “I think this little guy must be very young too. He’s so small!”

Rita kept eyeing the ‘little guy,’ its weird fur and the way it just didn’t have any legs. Wasn’t this from the sewer below? “…Yeah, and we had to change its diaper and everything. And then there was that one time it threw up on me! Ugh, had to wash my shirt like six times.” She looked at the Ratwigle again, on how it was now washing its dark fur with its tongue, no longer as flighty or nervous as before. It seemed to have some trouble bending, since it was shaped like a perfect sphere and all. “At least this thing’s poop would be easier to handle.”

Estelle laughed, shuffling just a bit closer to Rita. “You think so? Maybe you can do the clean-up duty for me.”

“Hey, I never agreed to that!” She glared at the Ratwigle that now acted like everything was all okay, no problem. “It’d just run… roll away from me anyway.”

“Aw, that’s not true, Rita.”

“Estelle, it literally just did exactly that five minutes ago.”

“Well, that’s because you were shouting… When you don’t shout, most animals would be able to warm up to you.”

Rita shrugged, wondering why she was seeking the approval of a baby monster of all things. “Cats are good enough for me.”

But that was a talent of Estelle’s – making friends with anyone so easily, finding the little positives in even the most tactless of things. Rita moved a little closer as well, though she still kept up her pout.

“So, are you actually keeping it?”

“I would like to,” Estelle confessed, looking down at Ratwigle. It snuffled around her palm, apparently content to stay there instead of getting away. “But I’m sure it already has a home. I just wanted to help keep it alive into the new year at least.”

Rita thought on it. “Maybe it is a sign…or something.” Even if she thought omens and fortunes were bogus. “Wait, so you weren’t outside celebrating with everybody?”

Estelle raised her head to Rita. “No. I didn’t see a need to. When I found this little mouse, I thought that maybe… well, never mind. It wasn’t too important anyway. I didn’t mean to get in the way of your work.”

Sometimes, Rita really was an idiot. She groaned. “Dammit… I’m sorry.”

“Huh? But I just came in here and messed up all your research-”

“Gah, let me apologize already! Of course I’d like to spend New Year’s with you! I always like spending time with you!” She huffed, then turned her gaze to the floor. “I just get caught up in stuff and then act stupid about it.”

But she couldn’t even hear the fireworks anymore. Perhaps the celebration was already over and she had made Estelle miss out on something that could have been so fun for her.

The princess had moved so much closer that their knees now touched, and she couldn’t avoid the rat-mouse-whatever it was in-between them anymore. Yeah, it was kinda close… but from this angle, she supposed it looked mildly cute.

“I don’t think I would have had the courage to ask you if it weren’t for my new friend,” Estelle said, her voice soft and shy. “Do you think you can make it up to me then?”

Just relieved that Estelle hadn’t rebuffed her apologies, Rita nodded. “I mean, sure, of course. What is it?”

“Well, on New Year’s Eve, it’s supposed to be customary to kiss someone!” Estelle laughed nervously, her eyes darting around in shyness, but her smile forming. “Usually on the very minute it turns into the new year. It’s supposed to bring good luck, so I thought-”

Rita leaned in to kiss Estelle. She was surrounded by the scent of cherry blossoms, all within the brash aura of chemicals still piping away in their vials, within the ember still scorched onto the stone floors.

She kissed her and felt the softness that melded its way down her chest into her legs, shutting her eyes. It wasn’t long before Estelle pressed back, sounds leaving her throat, whether of surprise or something else, Rita couldn’t really know.

Then, just as quickly, Rita leaned back, turning to the side. She didn’t need to even feel her face to know how red it was. “Sorry that was kinda late, but…tried to make up for it.”

She only flicked her eyes back quickly to catch Estelle’s expression – her cheeks also red, her mouth half-parted, nearly inviting another kiss. Was that what she wanted? Maybe she should try that again, but if Estelle was silent, maybe she hadn’t done a good job…

“Did you use your tongue?” Estelle asked rather bluntly, more curious than accusing.

Rita froze, then stuttered out, “I-I said I was m-making up for it! And…that’s a thing people do!” Right? Wasn’t that a thing people did? Or had Yuri just been messing with her when he suggested her to try that? Dammit, if he did, she was going mess him up later. Actually, what kind of conversation had they been having that he would tell her that anyway?

“Ah, sorry! It was just… a surprise! But, a very nice surprise…” Estelle giggled, pressing both hands to her cheeks. “It really felt so nice. Thank you, Rita. Um, do you think we could…”

At that, Rita was already guessing to her suggestions. She was seated up straight, eyes riveted to Estelle’s lips and remembering how sweet it had been and- Wait a minute.

“Estelle,” she said carefully, looking at the girl’s hands, still pressed to her face. “Where did the rat go?”

“…Eh?”

“The rat, Estelle. The Ratwigle!” She pointed frantically at Estelle’s lap. “Didn’t you just have it a minute ago?”

She felt something shifting in her lap just then. With wide eyes, she looked down.

“Remember to not shout, Rita!” Estelle warned quickly.

And maybe Rita listened to Estelle, staying as calm as she could be and making friends with a rat friend. Or maybe she let all sense leave her and tried to get the rat as far away from her as possible, her artes going a little haywire, her lab getting a little more chaotic with each panicked yell.

It didn’t matter either way. It was a new year, with new rules she would just have to get used to. She could adjust, eventually – as long as Estelle was by her side.

#ristelle #tales of vesperia #rita mordio #estellise sidos heurassein #tales of #happy new year #fanfiction #one shot

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baekthecorgi · 6 years ago

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you’re the cure, you’re the pain (doyoung) genre: college au, med student au, fluff (a quick glimpse of premed!doyoung) words: 3k w. summary: dating a med student has got to be the hardest feat one could ever encounter.

*terms defined at the end

you first meet doyoung at the library on your third year in university. not exactly meet as in meet, it was more of a see doyoung dozing off on top of his thick books at the coldest, most secluded section of the library where you often spend your time studying for your lessons. his hoodie was zipped all the way up to protect him from the cold. you notice how his oversized hoodie covered the spines of his books so you were left clueless about his course.

it became a thursday thing to spot a certain hooded figure slumped over the same trio of books that you found yourself looking forward to thursdays instead of fridays. which was weird actually because all uni students looked forward to the end of the week. all except you.

one fateful thursday afternoon, you find mr. sleepy head in an all-white uniform, still in dreamland, but this time, his head was stuck between pages 124 and 125. you take a quick peek of the book’s header. in bold, all caps, it read: Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM-5). the scattered sticky notes on the surface indicated that he was in the middle of his thesis. before you pry further, mr. sleepy head shifts his position. you hurriedly fumble back to your seat. mr. sleepy head reveals his haggard yet captivating face towards your direction.

judging from the nameplate on his chest, white uniform, and the DSM-5, you figure out mr. sleepy head’s a graduating psychology student. when he showed no signs of waking up, you make a beeline to where he is. you were near to study his features but far enough to not look like a preying stalker. his raven locks stuck out in different directions, and his bangs swooped down which highlighted his sharp jawline. the white uniform highlighted his broad shoulders which you thought were wider than the pacific ocean (if that even is a thing). there were bags under his eyes but you guessed, even with eyes closed, that mr. sleepy head has those sincere eyes which would make any individual fall in deep.

“are you planning to stare at me the whole day or are you gonna help me with my rrl*?” said guy mumbles, voice low enough to send shivers down your spine. mr. sleepy head opens his eyes, his piercing gaze seemingly passing through you. “do you have any business here?”

“i-i’m sorry, i-i didn’t mean to stare, uhm,” you stutter. glancing at his nameplate, you continue, “kim doyoung? oh, uh, doyoung. sorry, again. i’ll go if that makes you comf–”

“nah, it’s fine i’m just messing with ya,” doyoung snickers, waving it off. “though you might want to practice your staring. it’s not exactly subtle.” you feel heat creeping through your cheeks.

“i’m guessing you’re a third year biology major?” you nod at his inquiry. “and i’m betting this is your private study corner?” you nod once again.

“how’d you know?”

“your materials are all splayed out like you own the place. those are a third year bio student’s books. i have friends from bio too, y'know,” doyoung tells. “i’m also good at studying people’s expressions. perks of being a psych major. in your case, you bite your lower lip when you tell the truth. well, what i hope is the truth.”

you reply with a, “i’m not good at lying.”

doyoung raises a brow as if doubting your words. he retorts, a gummy smile plastered on his face, “aside from your expressions, well, you’re not the only one stealing glances.”

you wanted to bang your head on the wall. was mr. sleepy head flirting with you? did he stare back at you all those past thursdays? oh my god, your head was spinning at the theories crossing your mind. it was only when doyoung cleared his throat that snapped you back to reality.

“i’d love to stay and chat, but i have clinical psych in ten minutes. fifth floor, room 2-4. ends in two hours,” doyoung says in a monotonous tone exactly the way his psych professors him. detached is what they would always remind their students to be, but with you, doyoung might just have to make an exception.

you ask, confused at the details thrown at you, “why are you telling me this?”

“maybe i wanna practice reading people more, or maybe i wanna spend my late night coffee run with the girl who’s been staring at me for like, four thursdays, while i get to know her more and try to cram for my departmental exam tomorrow. pick your poison,” and with that said psychology major doyoung flashes you a mischievous grin as scrambles over his things, stuffing them down his knapsack.

“see you in two hours?” doyoung confirms and you agree. he takes his exit, or what seems to be his exit because he retracts his steps and calls you. “good luck on your zoology quiz. hope you ace it!”

your friends have already warned you on psychology majors. more on dating psychology majors. “they’re just plain weird. it’s like they’re always reading your mind”, they’d always say. your encounter with doyoung proved their hypotheses true. your first ever talk with the weirdly attractive doyoung made you want to form your own conclusions and not from someone else’s.

maybe that’s why you ended up meeting doyoung in front of his last class and spend the entire night chatting away at a 24/7 café. half of it was the actual getting to know each other cliché. you found out doyoung added an extra shot of espresso to his coffee nowadays as his tolerance level rose from all the night shifts during OJT*. his brother was a law student and doyoung, on the other hand, was an aspiring med student. doyoung was lactose intolerant but he absolutely loves cheesecakes, blueberry especially. doyoung knows he’s weird because his roommate, taeyong, fights him about it all the time.

the other half was spent on doyoung tutoring you on biochemistry, ranting for a good thirty minutes on why he chose his stupid thesis proposal when it clearly lacked the studies to back it up, and doyoung snuggling against your arm on the wee hours of the morning.

three months of caffeine overdose and two breakdowns later (it alternates between you and doyoung, depends on who has a dickhead professor), doyoung finally asks you to be his girlfriend in his cramped bedroom. you wholeheartedly say YES!!!! before doyoung even gets to the question. tackling your boyfriend down on his bed, you pepper him with what seems to be a thousand kisses. you spend an hour of making out, then listening to taeyong scolding you both for making out and explicitly moaning for half an hour on the other side of the door, and waking up late on doyoung’s chest, inhaling his musky scent first thing in the morning. it was nothing less than perfect–your relationship, your boyfriend.

(doyoung misses an exam that day but to hell with that, it’s been a long time since he last fell in love. he’d rather hold you in his arms, whispering sweet nothings to your ear at 7AM rather than sulking over a test with a 45% passing rate.)

dating doyoung was so exhausting, you sometimes wonder why you even considered that as an option.he’d piss you off with bio jokes he steals from taeyong on a daily basis. you even tried to coax taeyong from sponsoring doyoung with lame biology jokes but the former also takes joy in pissing you off.

“here comes my Trypanosoma cruzi,” doyoung cooes when he spots you walking towards the sofa.

“i’m not in the mood for jokes, baby,” you snap back but doyoung only squishes your cheeks with his soft lips.

“really? i doubt it. you always find your way back to my heart,” doyoung sends a flirty wink to which you roll your eyes to. he’s cheesy like this.

“doyoung, that’s rude. first of all, i’m not a parasitic bug burrowing through heart muscles. second of all, people are dying because of that bug. third of all, i hate you because that was hella smart.”

“you still love me, though.”

“well, you’re not wrong about that.”

it wasn’t until doyoung graduated and entered med school that you realized relationships aren’t full of rainbows and unicorns. you had small, petty fights with your boyfriend, of course, but this time it was different. with you busy with your thesis and doyoung struggling as a first year med student, everything seemed like a big, fiery heap of mess. both of you were quite new with the whole set-up. of lacking time for each other. of prioritizing academics over your significant other. of having study dates without any conversation at all. or simply, having no dates in weeks.

falling in love was easy to do, almost effortless. it was staying in love that was arduous, puzzling, and just difficult. staying in love is a commitment. it was an everyday choice to love doyoung without expecting anything back.

loving a med student was a hard feat. it takes guts, it takes bravery, it takes courage to love one and to stay in love with one.

time was the one thing doyoung can’t give to you. of course, he spends time with you, going out for dates and whatnot, but most of the time it means sacrificing a part of his academics so you don’t demand much of it as much as you did before.

you always catch him pushing his black-rimmed glasses up his nose bridge as he tries his best to stuff information in his brain. you were sure his mind was overloading with names of bones, chemical formulas, symptoms, diseases, god knows what more’s inside it. doyoung barely functions as a normal human being anymore. most of the time, he skips buying lunch to answer samplexes*, highlighting transes* to study for his exam which he had every. single. day. so you make it a daily habit to pack him lunch with whatever he was craving, tightly wrapped and ribonned with a pink cloth.

as a thank you, doyoung never fails to leave the apartment or sleep without placing a gentle kiss on your lips. saying “i love you” tenderly was a very kim doyoung thing to do and you’d feel your heart flutter like the first time you had your coffee date.

most of the time, you’d confiscate doyoung’s coffee, snatching it away from his hands. sulking, he’d complain, “babyyyy, i need my caffeine. there’s a shifting exam* tomorrow. please, baby, please!”

you won’t succumb to his pleads even if you’re on the verge of handing him back his drink. doyoung was basically immune to caffeine at this point so it was rather useless for him to drink more.

“take a nap, baby. it’s better than coffee intake. i promise i’ll wake you up in an hour,” you beg to which he shakes his head. “for me? please? you really need it.”

doyoung finally agrees only because your voice sounded worried as fuck and he wants to be the least of your worries, but also because you were right. he needed some sleep. needless to say, you became doyoung’s personal alarm clock. an alarm clock with 8AM classes.

but you were only a living, breathing human with feelings just like kim doyoung. it wasn’t unusual to crave for affection and reassurance. medical school was eating your boyfriend alive that it left you with crumbs of what’s left with doyoung. you weren’t needy, desperate for attention, so it would be nice for boyfriend to compromise once in a while. nice to be cuddled, kissed, made love to like there weren’t requirements to pass and exams to study for the very next day.

it would be nice to be top of doyoung’s priorities even for a split second.

“doyoung, baby, let’s cuddle!” you softly cry, carressing his cheek. you were chilling on his lap. he massages your jet black tresses, eyes buried deep in Guyton & Hall’s “Textbook in Medical Physiology”.

he hums, “later, baby. i’ll just finish a chapter.”

“but you read slow”

“i’m trying to concentrate, baby. let’s talk later,” doyoung scans the page one last time before flipping it.

frowning, you pluck the thick book away from his hand in frustration. “i’m not asking for twenty four hours with you, doyoung! i just want five minutes of your goddamn time! i wanna cuddle and kiss the life out of you, god i’d be perfectly okay with having a conversation without the scientific shit you’ve been studying about because fact check! lately, it seems like you don’t give a flying fuck about me. you don’t care about what i think, what i do, i mean, do you still care about me, doyoung? are you willing to spare me a glance for, i don’t fucking know, a minute of your attention? because that’s what i do, doyoung. others wouldn’t have gotten this far with you, but i did because i fucking love you! god, i’m head over heels for you, baby, because i choose you. every single day. and i just want to know if the person i’m choosing still chooses me cause if not, we might as well break up.”

“i-i’m sorry. i didn’t know you felt that way,” your boyfriend stutters. “i-i’ve been failing almost all my AnaPhy* exams and now i’m about to lose you a-and–”

in a blink, doyoung has his palms covering his face, tears streaming down his cheeks. you didn’t expect to blow up the pent up frustrations welling up inside you for months. you didn’t mean spewing those harsh words. instantly, you envelope him in a reassuring hug, wrapping your arms around his neck. doyoung buries his head on the crook of your neck. it’s a hug that’s warm and homely. one that says sorry for being such an idiot blowing up at you like this. one that provides him complete comfort, and not only support, but also acceptance.

the night ended with loving kisses and a voice of strength which became doyoung’s guiding light through the horrid horror that is medical school.if you thought dating a med student was hard, it was nothing compared to dating an intern. it was like dating a ghost.

sometimes, you’d come home late at night to the inoccupancy of the other side of the bed. sometimes, you’d wake up for work and catch sight of a clearly exhausted doyoung, lightly snoring from his night duty. you take a few moments, staring at your boyfriend’s peaceful aura, the same way you did a few years back at the library. before leaving, you secure a soft kiss on his pink lips, never forgetting to mumble an “i love you” even when he can’t hear your words.

when you do find your schedule synchronizing with doyoung’s you find yourself elated an excited with his daily medical adventures.

“patients complain about having to eat hospital food for three days but imagine having to eat it for your whole career”

"baby, i literally give you two packed lunches what the hell”

“oh shit. i have to explain myself now, don’t i?”

other times, it would be like:

“i nearly dropped this scalpel into the patient’s abdomen. can you stop looking at me like THAT?”

“why the fuck is everything in the hospital broken?” he complains, massaging his forehead. you reply, “baby, you’re a doctor. it’s literally your job to fix people.”

“well, shit,” doyoung sighs. he breathes in a gust of air when you let out a hearty laugh. you jeer, “you might have a MD at the end of your name but you’re dumb sometimes.”

but most of the time, your conversations would go like this:

“are you stressed?” you ask, entangling your limbs over his.

“i’ve been paged five times in the last two minutes, i delivered a baby in surgery today, resuscitated two patients, and haven’t slept in 48 hours. so, yes, forgive me if i’m a little on edge.”

“that’s okay, baby. we can have a nap date today.” he pecks the back of your hand, sighing. you take this as a sign to languidly kiss him on the lips this time.

one time, while driving him home from a spontaneous roadtrip with your boyfriend, you spot the oncoming heavy traffic flow. there has been a car collision causing the road blockage and the slow traffic flow. the vehicles were being towed to the side of the road when the people helping, retreated the injured victims.

once doyoung spots the lack of medical attention, he commands, “baby, pull up. i have to help them.”

slamming the car door close, doyoung rushes to the victims. he kneels down, examining the injuries and pressing lightly on all the right spots. he looks up at the confused expressions of the people surrounding him. “don’t worry, i’m a doctor. now does somebody have a pen? i have to perform an emergency tracheostomy*. this lady has an obstructed airway.”

after the ambulance arrived, you pull a hazy doyoung in a comforting hug. it’s his first time handling a case outside the hospital, his palms were all sweaty.

“i thought i was gonna lose all of ‘em,” he mumbles into your neck. you laugh at his nervous voice, rubbing circles on his back.“

this is the exact reason why you’re a doctor. you saved them, baby,” you pull him off, placing both your palms gently on his cheeks. “i’m proud of you.”

“i love you, baby,” doyoung declares. he says it without hesitation, without doubts. he wears his words as a thank you. for never giving up on loving him, for choosing to love him even when he doesn’t deserve it.

you’ve overcome so much hardships in your relationship with doyoung that looking back, you realized everything was worth it. doyoung was worth it. love was worth it.

–

note: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME BIIIIIIITCH IM FINALLY DONE WITH THIS SJKDFHKSJDHF shoutout to the anon who freaked out and requested this!!! ugh med student doyoung in an all-white uniform would be so HOT istg,, i would love to get feedbacks

masterlist is on my bio soooo check it out !! tumblr’s being a little bitch bc when i put the link the post disappears from the tags grr

disclaimer: i’m not a med student. this is based on our country’s education system so it’s not exactly accurate with others.

RRL = Review of Related Literature; the selection and annotation of available documents which contain information, ideas, data and evidence related to the topic that a person proposes to research on

OJT = on the job training; it’s what graduating students do before, during or after thesis. and yes, it’s part of the grade.

Samplex = sample exams or corrected test questionnaires; also from higher batches

Trans = transcribed notes from higher batches; an outline of doctors’ lectures & ppts

AnaPhy = Anatomy & Physiology class

Shifting Exam = taken in each subject; much like departmental quizzes answered in 30 mins during lunch time

Tracheostomy = a medical procedure that involves creating an opening in the neck in order to place a tube into a person’s windpipe

#nct scenarios #nct imagines #nctwriters #doyoung imagines #doyoung scenarios #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 imagines #nct u imagines #nct u scenarios #nct #nct 127 #nct u #kim doyoung #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #doyoung x reader #reposted !!!!

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remusreads · 6 years ago

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Somebody to Love by Aurelia Fray || Review

Around 30% of the way in I was considering not finishing this one, but I am infinitely happy that I continued it. I was getting a little agitated with Cassy’s pettiness and the girl on girl hate, but I realised that it was a character flaw that was inevitably going to come to a head and get fixed — and it certainly did! I can, without a doubt, say that I am beyond happy that I didn’t put the book down for that reason because the character development this lot went through was fantastic. This book to me was made even better by the fact that I felt everything the characters were feeling. I mean, I felt so frustrated that I almost put the book down; the same as Rachel storming out for example! So yes, the book is massively amazing for that. I felt what the characters felt and imagined what the characters saw and it was brilliant! Also I laughed so hard I had tears brimming. There’s a particular scene which involves a toilet and good lord it had me laughing so hard that I ended up having to read the chapter to my fiancée so that she could laugh with me! I love it when a book makes me laugh that hard, I really do. Some people may find the scene cringey but it was one of my favourites from the book! There is an undeniable theme in this book to not judge a book by its cover. Rachel is dismissed on numerous occasions because she’s curvy. A few of the men in the book refer to her as “tubby”, “dumpy”, amongst others and I found that unsettling personally, but they all see what an amazing person she is. I don’t agree with the idea that if you’re fat you can’t be beautiful which felt like an underlying idea that the characters had, but I’m glad that they all gave her a chance at least and didn’t continue to judge her by her looks. There was also the theme of just because they’re blood related doesn’t mean you have to tolerate their shitty behaviour. It was probably the second strongest theme in this book and was really written fantastically. Rachel is essentially bullied by Cassy, her cousin, and this book follows the journey of her learning to stand up for herself, to Cassy and to all of those that don’t believe in her. Lemme just tell you that I am HERE for that theme and loved the way everything unfolded. The character development that Rachel underwent was fabulous, and I loved seeing her unfold into someone who loved herself, believed in herself and didn’t take less than the best from others. Here are a few more things I liked: — the writing was fabulous! It was gripping, hysterically funny, enjoyable, addicting (I read the first quarter of it in a burst and was gutted to put it down). It’s not too descriptive nor too vague and is a lot of fun. — is (mostly) a light hearted contemporary which touches on some heavier subjects (mentioned above), so the perfect summer read. I had an absolute blast reading it. — though the plot can be seen as formulaic, I felt it was unique and refreshing to read and it took some turns that I was thoroughly enthralled by. — families! I love familial presence in books! — steamy, but not too much sex that it detracts from the plot. — it felt immensely real. I didn’t feel like I was reading a fictionalisation, it genuinely felt like I was reading how someone’s life had panned out — and I was a huge fan of that. — the pacing is great! Didn’t take too long to get into the story and the main event in the story didn’t occur too quickly, and there definitely wasn’t much (if any at all) filler content. The story flowed fabulously. Rated 4/4.5* due to a couple of issues I’ve mentioned in this review! I would absolutely recommend this to anyone and everyone; even if you’re not a romance reader as such. It was great fun and a lot of laughs!

If you enjoyed this review and would like to be up to date on my reading endeavours, please consider friending my goodreads!

If you enjoy my content, also, please consider buying me a coffee. :) Buy a copy of this book here

#book review #book reviews #review #book recommendation #book recommendations #recommendation #recommendations #reader #reading #reads #booklr #book blog #book blogger #aurelia fray #somebody to love

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moonstruckbucky · 7 years ago

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Invisible

SUMMARY: The reader is, quite frankly, fed up with being second to Nancy "Goody-Two-Shoes" Wheeler.

PAIRING: Billy Hargrove x female Wheeler!Reader

WORD COUNT: 3.1k

REQUESTED: no

WARNINGS: Language [ya'll are gonna learn real quick that i have a straight up potty mouth], tooth-rotting fluff, slight Nancy-bashing [but it is not indicative of my own personal feelings towards Nancy, she’s a badass.]

Growing up as “the other Wheeler” was about as exciting as a nail through the eye. You were the middle sibling, serving to only add insult to injury. Virtually, you were the invisible one in the family, except when your father would ask why you couldn’t get grades like Nancy. Every time, it chipped away at your ever-dwindling self-confidence so that even you had begun to compare yourself to your older sister.

As for dating? Forget it. Your love life consisted of dating a boy for a few weeks until he had wormed his way closer to Nancy, and then you were history. You weren’t as pretty as Nancy, you weren’t as funny as Nancy (which was the only thing you disagreed with; you were downright hilarious while Nancy’s sense of humor bordered on non-existent).

You just weren’t Nancy.

You had a minor crush on Nancy’s boyfriend, Steve, when they first started dating, even though he barely considered the two of you to be friends. He tolerated you, as did everyone else. Nancy’s friends tolerated you when they invited Nancy out and said you could tag along too, if only out of respect for Nancy. But they never included you in conversation, never asked how your college applications were going. It was like you weren’t even there, and eventually you stopped going, and Nancy stopped asking.

The two of you weren’t particularly close, despite only being six months apart in age. She was focused on school and was too wrapped up in Steve to really worry about what her sister was or wasn’t getting up to. The only link between the two of you had been Barbara Holland, and once she’d disappeared and turned out to be dead, all ties between you and Nancy had been severed.

You went through the motions at Hawkins High School, throwing yourself into achieving the best grades you could to get into a school miles away from Hawkins, Indiana. Someplace where you wouldn’t just be known as “the other Wheeler”.

On a Thursday afternoon, you found yourself in the school library, nose buried in your American History textbook trying to retain the Gettysburg Address. You’d gotten your tests back earlier that day, and you’d just about failed. You hated the feeling of failure; every other aspect of your life was failure, so it was unacceptable for school to give you that feeling too.

The slamming of books on the desk jolted you from your position and you gasped loudly.

“Hey bookworm.”

You leered up into the face of the new kid, Billy Hargrove, who was wearing his signature smirk as he leaned on the chair across from you.

“Can I help you?” you grumbled, your heart rate slowing as you calmed down.

“Word has it you’re good at Algebra.” He pulled out the chair and sat down, completely uninvited.

“And?”

He tossed a stapled group of papers at you before folding his arms on the desk, leaning forward. You picked them up, taking in the circled red F on the page. Your eyes skimmed his answers quickly and then you tossed it back to him.

“Your formulas are wrong,” you observed before turning back to your book. The papers appeared in your line of sight again. “What do you want me to do about it?”

“Help me. Tutor me?” You raised an eyebrow at his almost pleading tone. “I can’t fail another class.”

“What’s in it for me besides loss of patience?” you snarked back, setting your book down.

“I can help you bring that History grade up.” Ignoring the sassy remark, he nodded at the test to your left, the failing grade bright against the paper. You gnawed on your lip for a while, weighing the pros and cons of trading tutoring sessions with Billy Hargrove.

You weren’t friends. In fact, the two of you couldn’t be more opposite. You’d seen him in the halls, parading around like a peacock surrounded by a gaggle of rowdy boys and girls who were drooling after him. You’d heard stories about him, how he moved from sunny California, how he picked fights over the smallest reasons, how he dated girls and left them heartbroken the next day. He was everything about high school you abhorred, and yet, you somehow found yourself agreeing to his stupid idea.

“Fuck this,” you whisper-yelled about an hour later, slamming your textbook closed. Billy had moved into the seat beside you to better go over his Algebra problems before moving onto History. You shoved the book away from you, fully fed up with trying to nail down important dates of the Civil War.

Billy smirked. “Didn’t know the other Wheeler had such a mouth on her.”

Bitterness settled in your gut at his remark, and you pursed your lips and pointedly looked in the other direction. It wasn’t anything you hadn’t heard before, but the way it came off Billy’s tongue sat heavy with you. Your leg started bouncing in annoyance as you fiddled with your pen, trying to will yourself not to cry over a comment you heard literally every day.

“Hey,” Billy then murmured, leaning forward to try and see your face. “You okay?”

“Just peachy,” you grumbled before gathering your belongings. “Tutoring’s over.”

You left him in the library, staring dumbfoundedly after you, and only when you stepped foot outside did you let your vision blur with the tears fighting to the surface. You climbed into your car after dumping your books on the passenger seat and punched the steering wheel, the horn honking once.

You weren’t exactly sure why you were so upset; after all, the comment was coming from Billy Hargrove of all people, so it wasn’t as if his opinion actually mattered. But somehow, it did. It cut you like a papercut, a quick swipe that gave way to an unrelenting sting. Maybe it was your subconscious finally giving up on trying to ignore it every time it slipped through someone’s teeth. Maybe that one time was enough straw to break the camel’s back.

God, you wished high school was over.

The drive home was silent and lonely, just like the rest of your life. While high school was supposed to help you figure out who you’d become in the real world, it seemed as if it was determined to point you in only one direction: Nancy’s shadow.

The house was quiet when you got home, and you found a note on the kitchen island that told you Nancy was out with Steve, Mike was at Will’s, and your parents had gone out for dinner. You sighed. It was typical that they forgot about you, leaving you to your own devices for dinner. You called your favorite Chinese place and ordered delivery and while you waited you showered, trying to scrub away the day’s events, cried a little in the shower over your pathetic life, and then put on a pair of pajamas and parked your ass on the couch for a horror movie binge.

Nancy never understood your fascination with the genre. You tried explaining it to her once, but she just looked at you like Sigourney Weaver looked at a Xenomorph and gave up on trying to “bond” with her sister.

The Chinese was delivered not long after you popped your Alien VHS into the player and changed the channel. You paid the driver and tipped him before closing the door and setting the bag on the coffee table. You dug out your orange chicken, fried rice, and spring rolls, popped the top on your can of Coke, and hit play on the movie.

The next day at school, there were whispers in the hallway about your tutoring session with Billy. Some girls glared and scoffed, while others merely analyzed you curiously. The boys just laughed.

What took you by surprise was the fact that your sister was standing beside your locker, looking every bit annoyed once she spotted you.

“What are you doing with Billy?” she hissed. “He’s a bad guy!”

You gave her a deadpan look as you swapped out your books. “I’m tutoring him in Algebra and he’s helping me with History. Besides, it isn’t like you actually care. They all eventually come crawling after you anyways.”

You slammed your locker closed and left Nancy gaping after you. As you entered your first period class, all conversation ceased and all eyes were on you. It was an uncomfortable walk to your seat in the middle of the room, the eyes of your peers burning into your head. You sat quietly and kept your head down, trying to block out the not-so-subtle whispers of the students around you.

By lunchtime, talk was buzzing through the school like rampant bees that “the other Wheeler was in the library with Billy and left in tears”. The story, of course, had been convoluted a multitude of ways that stretched it further and further from the truth until the final version was something along the lines of Billy, you, and a scandalous affair.

Normally, at lunch, you’d sit with Nancy, Steve, and the others even though you were never formally invited into conversation with them. Today, though, the look Nancy gave you when you entered the cafeteria told you you weren’t welcome. That was fine; sitting alone at a table made you feel less alone than when you were with Nancy and her cronies.

You pulled your lunch out of your bag despite not feeling very hungry, the cafeteria buzzing with activity as everyone tried to guess why you were suddenly sitting alone. Then conversation halted altogether, and a tray dropped down across from you, the school pizza dripping grease onto the napkin beneath it.

Billy Hargrove followed the path of the tray, settling on the chair across from you and popping the top on his can of soda. He met your surprised stare calmly and easily, and he winked over the top of his drink. You felt yourself blush and looked away from him shyly, suddenly wondering why all of the sudden he was paying attention to you of all people.

The answer to that question came later in the week. You were in the living room working on History homework on the coffee table, your headphones in. Tutoring with Billy had gone better after the event at lunch, and he’d fortunately kept the conversation to a minimum if it didn’t involve homework or your notes.

Your parents were home, but Nancy wasn’t. You bopped your head along to AC/DC, not seeing your mother come down the stairs in her bathrobe.

Karen was surprised to see a spitting image of the man on the cover of her trashy novel standing outside her front door, his shirt unbuttoned and showing off a good portion of his toned chest.

“Hi,” he said, turning the charm up to a hundred.

“Oh, are you here for Nancy?” she asked, hoping that his answer was no as she leaned against the doorway and pulled her hand from her robe, letting it fall open just a bit.

“No, no, not my type,” Billy replied, shaking his head with a smirk. “I’m actually here for Y/N.”

The surprise was clearly evident on Karen’s face since a boy hadn’t come calling for Y/N since her sophomore year. The expression on her face angered Billy, as if it was so unheard of for anyone to visit or even interact with her daughter. What kind of mother is she?

“Oh, she’s, um, she’s in the living room. Um, come on in.” Karen stepped aside and Billy sauntered in, hands in his pockets as he took in Y/N’s modest home on the other side of town. He found you bent over your textbook, headphones on your head as you mouthed the words to “Girl’s Got Rhythm”.

“Honey,” Karen called feebly. She said it a few more times before waltzing over and pulling the headphones off your head just as the guitar solo was about to kick off.

“Hey! What the hell-- Billy?” You felt frozen in your spot as Billy smirked at you from the living room doorway.

“Your friend came over to see you.” Your mom did a shit job at hiding the shock in her voice, but whether it was from the notion of you even having friends or having friends who looked like Billy, you weren’t sure. “I’m just going to go up and resume my bath.”

You grimaced at the way she said bath and batted her eyelashes at Billy, who barely spared her a second glance as she sauntered away.

“What are you doing here?” you finally asked once you stood to your feet. “Better yet, how do you know where I live?”

“I have connections,” he replied with a one-shouldered shrug. “Let’s go for a drive.”

“I-I can’t. I have homework.” You gestured behind you at the books laid out on the table.

“Work on it later. Lords know you’re passing every class.” He rolled his eyes. “Including History now, thanks to me.”

“Whatever,” you grumbled as you shoved your feet into your shoes. If there was one thing you knew about Billy Hargrove, it was that he was aggravatingly tenacious. He was relentless in his tutoring, making sure you had one set of dates down before quizzing you on the next set. It was frustrating, but you were glad you were finally grasping the concept.

Billy led you out the front door and down the walkway to his blue Camaro, stopping by the passenger door to open it for you. You angled into the seat, the leather cool under your jeans, and he ran around to the driver’s side. The engine roared as he turned it over and then he floored it down the street. Your hands were balled into fists inside your hoodie pocket as he drove, heading to the outskirts of town.

It remained silent in the car as he drove and for a while, you wondered if you were about the be the victim of a classic horror movie. Until Billy stopped at the top of the quarry, overlooking the lake and got out of the car. He leaned against the hood and ducked his head to light a cigarette before reaching back to slap the hood and waving you out.

Slowly you unbuckled yourself and got out, coming to stand beside him at the front of the car. Your nose crinkled at the smell of his cigarette, but he was at least generous enough to blow the smoke away from you. The moon reflected off the lake hundreds of feet below you, rippling as the breeze disturbed the water.

Billy was shockingly silent beside you, puffing on his cigarette and leering out into the night. You spoke up when you’d finally had enough of the silence.

“Why did you sit with me at lunch today? Isn’t that social suicide or something?”

Billy blew the smoke out through his nose in an aggravated huff, his eyes becoming hard. The rest of his cigarette was crunched under his boot as he turned to face you.

“Why do you do that?” he asked. At your confused expression he elaborated. “Put yourself down like that. Why do you do that?”

Your mouth dropped open but you had no answer for him. Not a verbal one anyway, so you shrugged.

“You know, for a smart girl, you’re really dumb,” he fired off next. Your shoulders squared themselves, ready to fight back. “You let people treat you like you’re nothing, like you’re invisible, and I don’t get it.”

“I...Where is this coming from? You don’t even know me!”

“I know you’re itching to get out of Hawkins, to find somewhere you’re not being compared to Nancy. Yeah, I know all about that. I hear people talk and I saw the way you reacted in the library when I called you the other Wheeler. You’re not subtle. I’m not some big dumb brute of a guy who can’t see when someone undeserving is suffering. I see a lot more than you think.”

Your mouth snapped shut as your throat tightened, and you had to look away. The look in his eye was too much as you came to the realization that you weren’t invisible, not to Billy anyway, and it hit you like a freight train.

“You don’t understand,” you heard yourself whispering. You closed your eyes against the onslaught of emotions rising within you. “My whole life, I’ve been invisible, never anyone’s first choice. Middle child syndrome, you know? My father always asked, ‘why can’t you get grades like Nancy?’ Why can’t you excel like Nancy?’ My first A- was trumped by her fucking A+ and I didn’t stop hearing about it for a week. Any boy I ever liked just used me to get closer to Nancy. It’s always Nancy. Nancy, Nancy, fucking Nancy. Why can’t it ever be me?”

The last line was said in such a broken tone that Billy was compelled to step forward. Then you were surrounded in his warmth, and it broke you. You cried into his shirt, finally feeling some relief that you could let it all go.

“Shh, it’s okay,” Billy murmured into your hair, pressing a gentle kiss there after. “I see you, Y/N.”

At those words, you choked on a sob and wound your arms around his waist, holding him tightly to you, and he mirrored the embrace. You stood like that for a while until you were out of tears and his shirt was thoroughly soaked through. Sniffling, you leaned back a bit out of his embrace and he loosened his hold on you just enough to look down at you.

“Sorry,” you muttered, nodding at his shirt. “I ruined your shirt.”

“Fuck the shirt,” he retorted with a smirk that made your mouth quirk up at the ends. “There’s that smile. You don’t have to live in anyone’s shadow, Y/N, least of all Nancy’s. You have a light all your own; let it shine.”

The next week at school was the best week of your life. After Billy had knocked some sense into you, he was never far from your side. Usually he had an arm slung around your shoulders, or your hand grasped in his, leaving the rest of the student body to gawk and wonder what he saw in you. Your confidence was slowly, but surely, rising, though you still had your off days. On those days, Billy was right there with you, murmuring his faith in you that you would overcome it, that you were brilliant, and smart, and beautiful, and that no one could touch you.

Billy Hargrove had unexpectedly saved your life.

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove x reader #bill hargrove x reader fic #billy hargrove/reader #stranger things #stranger things fic

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arthurhwalker · 6 years ago

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Lenovo CES 2019

Disclaimer: I attended Lenovo’s events at CES and CES proper as a guest of Lenovo. All opinions are my own.

This wasn’t my first time going to Las Vegas to help Lenovo promote their brand and represent their customer advocacy program, but it was still a singular experience. CES always is. I always feel like something of an interloper at these things, because I’m not a journalist, marketer, or employee of a tech company. I’m an independent/freelance author, game developer and illustrator.

I fall somewhere between fan and spectator, hobbyist and professional, depending on what booth I am in, or device I am checking out. I go mostly to support the brand that currently makes the tools of my craft, with hope they will continue. That’s what CES is for me, a measure of whether I hold on to what I’m using or update the contrivances of my workflow.

Bryan Custer was the handler assigned to curate the experience for the Lenovo INsiders in attendance. He is Lenovo’s Community Manager, handling the majority of replies from Lenovo’s Global social media channels. He’s a thoughtful guy, possessed of emotional intelligence uncommon in people. I can see why he was selected specifically for the task.

Jen Lawrence and Beto Sanro were the other two members of the customer advocacy program in attendance. Great folks! I learned so much from them while I was there, seeing how they handled digital marketing (they are experts and professionals), through the questions they asked, and observations they made. We also had a lot of fun!

Also in attendance, the inimitable Lenovo INsider, Dave Kennedy.

The first day saw us talking to various executives and getting a little time to try out new products.

Our first meeting with Dilip Bhatia (VP, Global Marketing, User & Customer Experience, PC & Smart Devices) was very illuminating. The last time I spoke with him (2016) he was talking about how Lenovo planned to connect with consumers to garner a sense of their sentiment for certain products and services. Since then, I often joke that it seems like Lenovo has my office bugged when they make certain product announcements.

In 2019, Lenovo is using big data to gather the analytics they need to make decisions about features and products. It shows, because I’ve seen very specific hardware, displays, and features, things I really wanted, show up in current products. It’s clear that Lenovo’s Dilip Bhatia is funneling good information back to product teams and designers.

Our second meeting, with Matt Bereda (VP of Global Marketing), started out with me making a lame joke that fell flat. It was a rough day, and I couldn’t seem to get my words straight through the conversation, but Matt patiently answered our questions and addressed our specific concerns gracefully.

Through the conversation I could tell that Matt Bereda genuinely believed Lenovo was providing value to people through their products. The sort of things that change workflows and lives. I got the impression that giving people information and communicating to the public about that value was priority number one.

I was sick at the press event, but I had to stay long enough to watch Matt Bereda’s full keynote. It was worth the extra discomfort just to see how he worked and interacted with the public. It feels less like he’s trying to convince you to buy something, and more like he’s just trying to give you good information to make an informed choice. It was a welcome departure from how one usually sees tech marketed.

There is every reason to believe Lenovo is going to continue being an attractive option for creative professionals crafting things for the web and for print. That said, I was nervous about the recent shift at Lenovo relative to design before I went to CES. Those concerned evaporated after meeting the VP of Design, Brian Leonard.

I asked a lot of questions about the rate of iteration between generations, prototyping for new devices, and how design influences the rise or demise of a brand. What shone through was that Lenovo intends to make things that are beautiful and functional, with the latter never suffering for the former. Then, I asked about the 3rd Generation Yoga Book, and whether we’d see a Ruby Red Yoga Book C930.

All things are possible. I have high hopes for that form factor.

Along that same thread, I was able to play with Lenovo’s Yoga A940 AIO for at least a half hour between two sessions. It’s a device with tremendous potential, waiting for some advances in NFC and for the price to come down on certain components. I’ll explain.

At first glance, it looked like the deck beneath the screen wirelessly charged the pen, keyboard, mouse, and had a spot to charge a smartphone as well. Lenovo’s Kevin Beck said he made a similar assumption, and Brian Leonard confirmed that such functionality had been a consideration. Because that sort of wireless charging isn’t cheap, it didn’t make it into the final product. Maybe in the Gen 2?

My wireless desk feels so close, and yet, miles away. That said, the inclusion of a content creation dial that can be attached to either side of the screen, for left and right handed folk, feels like a big deal. How big a deal? Huge.

If you know me, you know I dislike Windows 10. I’m pretty much all Ubuntu these days, but to use a Yoga Book Gen 1, or the new Yoga Book C930, I would tolerate Windows 10. Added to that list, definitely, is the Yoga A940 AIO as well. The hardware is so good, I would more than gladly use Windows 10 to have access to the features and form factor.

The Yoga Book C930 and Thinkvision P32u weren’t new products at CES, but it was the first time I was able to lay hands on them. The new Yoga Book is the ultimate companion device. Currently, I carry a stylus-equipped ReMarkable E Ink Tablet and my Ruby Red Gen 1.5 Yoga Book. The new Yoga Book C930 basically combines both of those devices in one tiny form factor, for the same money. Amazing.

How good is the Thinkvision P32u? There’s a picture of me hugging it on Twitter. Gods, the display and the features on that display are so (so) good.

Also, at Lenovo’s CES 2019 display was Lenovo’s AMOLED Yoga C730. Somehow, I walked right by it. Another INsider said the display was there, but understated. Still can’t believe I missed a chance to put my hands on one. It’s a big deal for folks that ink illustrations digitally. You haven’t really inked in Photoshop, GIMP, Mischief, or Krita until you’ve done it on an AMOLED display. The contrast ratio can’t be compared to anything else.

The second day saw as through product tours, with even more time to lay hands on displays and products.

Definitely, Lenovo is very conscious of the consumer’s desire for privacy. Every product seemed to have new privacy features, both in the hardware and the software. I saw a smart lock door handle for your home, a hardware switch for the microphone on their new smart alarm clock, and privacy software that detects people lurking behind you while working on your laptop. If you’re anxious about protecting your intellectual property and your privacy, Lenovo has a product to help you out.

There were the usual gimmicks, like a Formula 1 racing simulator, and cheesy eye-candy displays to draw people in, but there was also more substance to Lenovo’s CES offerings this year.

The Legion Gaming line has matured to the degree that even the pure Thinkpad crowd turned their heads slightly.Would I have bought a Legion Gaming rig at inception, no. Would I buy one of their new devices? Most assuredly. Would I buy a Thinkpad with the same cooling and IO set up at the 15” Y740? Anyone would.

We also had the chance to watch a Lenovo Unboxed video be produced. The INsiders in attendance got to be filmed giving their opinion about whether they favored the new X1 Carbon, or X1 Yoga. Gavin O’Hara threatened to have me draw on camera, but, fortunately, to the betterment of all, that did not happen, and none of the footage made it to the final video. Whew! ;-D

youtube

Day three had us on a Hoover Dam/Grand Canyon tour.

I spent a lot of time riding in the back of the Hummer on my Thinkpad X1 Extreme prepping posts and recording my observations and recollections. In that moment, I realized just how much Lenovo’s products had influenced my workflow. Sitting in my lap was a device I could pleasurably generate textual assets with, draw with a digitizer stylus on the screen, or play Fallout 76 with my spouse. Much of my work and play fit entirely in a backpack via a slim 15” form factor.

The tour was amazing, and so was the company. Bryan, Jen, and Beto are great to travel with.

As I write this, I’m reflecting on the time spent at CES. I got a chance to look at some of Lenovo’s competitors at CES because I was curious of what they were bringing to the table. I think if there’s anyone Lenovo should keep in their rear view, it’s probably Samsung. In the consumer (non-commercial) space, they make a pretty nice laptop, tablet, and phone.

Everyone else seems to lack a central design philosophy, or they haven’t iterated on those principles to the degree I think they’re keeping up. That isn’t to say Lenovo won’t have competition in 2019, because they definitely will. Communicating the value of their products is going to be important for folks that rely on them, and that’s why I continue to promote the brand.

#LenovoCES #CES #LenovoIN #SponsoredTrip #Lenovo #Thinkpad

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violetiris-ak · 6 years ago

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I got tagged by @weirdnproudofit. Guess you all get to learn a little bit more about me than my obsession with Dragon Age, Reylo, Realm of the Elderlings and writing.

Rules: Tag 9 people you want to get to know better and answer the questions. I’ll probably won’t tag as many though cause I don’t wanna spam half my followers.

Relationship status: Single.

Favorite Color: Purple usually, though I can be swayed by pretty shade of just about anything.

Top 3 ships: Oh, now this is going to be hard. Like, super, super hard. So I’m gonna cheat again.

I guess I’ll start with one of the easiest: Ereri/Riren, Eren/Levi from Attack on Titan. I know canonically it’ll never be thing and I’m totally fine with that. Romance of any kind isn’t really much of a thing in the anime and manga, besides the sort of hinted at relationship between Ymir and Christa which I also ship, but the fanfic, fan art, and just fandom related content around this ship has just been incredible. I came to it during the early days of the anime’s airing in 2013 and never left. I am so blown away and moved by it to this day. So much laughter and smiles and delicious angst and swoon worthy content. Seriously, some of the fanfics for this pairing were so addictive and impressive and also just warm and comforting. And from some of them, I even learned about myself like in the way the best of books do. I’m not as immersed in the community as I used to, but I still follow it and was only reading a fanfic for this pairing a month ago and it was like coming home.

Pre Eren/Levi the last big ship of mine was Dramione aka Draco/Hermione from Harry Potter. I never expected them to get together canonically. I actually came to the series after it was finished, and it wasn’t until after I was finished when I browsing the internet that I came across my first Dramione fic. Intrigued I gave it a go and was hooked. It was like an innocent, PG rated one where Draco and Hermione have a spell go wrong and must stick close together until the spell wears off, and in the meantime, learn to first tolerate each other and then eventually like each other. I was done for and consume such an incredible amount of fanfic it was unreal.

One of the things that actually made 2016 bearable was my discovering the Dragon Age series and then mass playing them 2x through (still slowly working on my third). By the end of my first playthrough, I just wasn’t ready to leave the world. I couldn’t let go. So I Googled the top fanfics for it and read Zute’s “A Californian in King Cailan’s Court” and sequel “Post Blight Management for Dummies,” which is hysterical by the way. And I binge read so much DA fanfic after that. Seriously, some of my fellow DA fanfic writers are amazing. And as I was looking through one fic where Zevran tries to broker a truce between Fenris and Anders, I became curious about Fenders. And so I looked to see what was out there and got hooked. Now this is another ship that isn’t canon, but these fics showed something I longed for in the game: for these two to realize that despite all their arguments and differences that they both long for the same thing: freedom and justice for those like them that are oppressed. Both have had their freedom denied, both traumatized by their past, Anders by the Chantry and the Templars and the Circle and Fenris by the slavers and magisters of Tevinter. What so many of the fics handled so gracefully was having these two broken people find healing and understanding through one another to a beautiful effect. I recommend giving @nikki-66 fics a go for great examples of this.

And I said I was gonna cheat, right? Okay, so here are two other ships I’m fully sailing on that I didn’t put in my top three. The first being Reylo because anyone who follows my blog will have probably noticed that I totally ship this. I shipped it from The Force Awakens and was ecstatic when The Last Jedi came out. I went on such a fanfic reading binge for this in late 2017/early to mid 2018. It was the only thing that toned down DA fanfic reading to reasonable levels. All I can is if Ben Solo dies in the next movie and/or if Reylo doesn’t happen in some way I’m going to be so pissed lol

Finally, to one of the most complicated and moving and hard to define relationships I’ve ever read in fantasy fiction: Fitz and the Fool from Robin Hobb’s the Realm of the Elderlings. Fitz is the bastard of the crown prince of the Six Duchies turned assassin for the king and the Fool is the court jester and also someone he refers to as the White Prophet. Their relationship in the books spans a lifetime, and it grows and evolves. Are they friends? Or are they more? But they’re not lovers, not in the way most of us would think of them but also something more. All I knew was that in some way the two of them needed to end up together in some way, and I just couldn’t bear the thought that they wouldn’t be. I put off reading the last trilogy for months because of it. And when I did... I won’t say because you really need to read these books. All sixteen of them and in order. Please.

lipstick or chapstick: I always have a chapstick in my pocket. Always. I can’t stand having dry lips. And while I do love lipstick for all the pretty colors and also the way it brightens my face, I hate when a lipstick can just settle on your lips and look super bad. But in recent years there’s been more lip butters and other hydrating formulas that I can regularly use, so that’s nice.

Last song: Don’t Stop Me Now by Queen. I’ve been on a Queen kick after watching Bohemian Rhapsody.

Last movie: I was hanging out with my mom post her knee surgery and got her to finally watch Mulan. Before that it was Outlaw King on Netflix (with a friend) and then Bohemian Rhapsody (with a sister). I don’t watch a whole lot of movies. And if we’re talking TV shows then Outlander (with a friend). I’m more likely to be found reading, writing or gaming than I am to be watching something.

currently reading: Ummmmm where do I begin? Ha. Like I just read a Reylo oneshot this morning. The other day I just finished Kingdom of Ash by Sarah J. Maas (which was so good!) and because I was in such a Maas kick I decided to make my 100th book read of the year her Catwoman Soulstealer one (good so far!). Also, I just started reading the novella Neutral by Jane Washington and Jaymin Eve which is part of the Curse of the Gods series (the protagonist Willa is the funniest main character I’ve read in years; the most recent one being the Warden in Zute’s Dragon Age fanfic).

And yes, I did say 100 books. I am counting novel lengths fanfics, books of poetry and plays along with any novels and books of nonfiction. In 2017, I wanted to see how much I was actually reading and challenged myself to get to at 50 (I ended up somewhere in the 80s) and write them all down in a notebook. I gave myself the 50 challenge again this year at the bare minimum with the ultimate goal of 100 books read. So unless I lose all access to the written word for the rest of the year, I’ll be meeting my goal in the next day or so, which is super exciting.

So here I’m going to tag four of my followers! If you’ve already done this or find the whole thing annoying feel free to ignore it. @orkindofamazing @amervalk @latebuthere @nekoamamori

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vrell-is-not-alone · 2 years ago

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#2: Motivation is a bitch

I remember early in my college career, the classical excuse for never getting anything done was always "I don't have enough time." But honestly, now that I have more experience, time itself is not inherently the issue. If I was able to use my time effectively and efficiently, I could easily get everything done with tons of time to spare. The problem is using my time effectively and efficiently. I've found as time goes on, I am less and less capable of doing that. There was a point in time when I was able to juggle 17 credit hours and living on my own and all the responsibilities of adulthood without a ton of effort. A time that I maintained (mostly (fuck you that one professor who targeted me and caused me to lose my 4.0 GPA)) straight A's with relative ease. And yet now, I'm struggling at 12 credit hours, wondering if I'm gonna pass my classes and not even turn in some assignments or do some quizzes. And I look back, and ask how the fuck did I get here? There are a lot of reasons for this, most of which I am still unpacking and figuring out, but a very important one on my mind recently is the issue of "Motivation." Motivation is an amazing thing. It makes it really easy to just do things. Motivation cannot be forced. You either have it, or you don't, and many factors such as mood and mental health can play into it. In general though, I find having a goal I want to achieve that I can realistically achieve and can see my progress towards is an amazing formula for having motivation. However, I don't have motivation. At least not for the two big things I need to do right now, which are 1) continuing college/achieving my computer science degree, and 2) getting everything together for an SRS I hope to get next summer. A lack of motivation in these wouldn't be a big issue if they weren't time sensitive. If I could just hold off until I felt better, was recharged, and could force the work to be done with willpower, it would get done and it would get done well. But I can't do that for reasons I may detail in a later post. And I want to highlight the two main ways that I've lost motivation in my life, namely: no longer wanting the goal I was working towards or believing the goal is likely unobtainable. For the first, I remember being a senior in high school, deciding on my degree, and saying "Hey, I could do CS. I am decently good at tolerating programming/debugging and I'm good at it." And thus, at the start of my college career, I had a goal I wanted. And then as time went on, I realized that CS was not programming. A programmer programs. A software developer (the closest job title that I'd likely get with my CS degree AFAIK) manages teams of programmers and does the higher level design. They don't necessarily program. Add on the extreme business focus towards the end of my degree and the pain of terrible professors (there is a few reasons why CS is the highest drop rate major in engineering at my university and they get a LOT of complaints from us) and it gets nigh impossible to feel that this is worth it anymore. It's not what I want to do. I don't want the goal I used to be working towards. But I don't have another choice financially. And so I am stuck here. For the second, when I get depressed, I get pessimistic. And right now, my upcoming SRS that I have vaguely planned out is kinda muddy on whether or not it'll be possible to get. I really, really need to get it this summer since if I don't, I may not have a window where I can take time to recover (gotta love US work culture) for the next few years. And yet, so many things have to go perfectly for this window to be met. My insurance has to cover the procedure. Electrolysis has to be finished in a relatively short time frame. The meetings with the surgeons need to go well. I have to have a plan in place for recovery. I need to scrounge together enough funds to cover my expenses post-insurance. And to make it all worse, it's nigh-impossible to find good information on this stuff. It's all so fucking vague and everything comes with the asterisk of "your mileage may vary." And so while I can sometimes be hopeful about it, when I get pessimistic, it all feels impossible. And it might be impossible, so I can't even dissuade those pessimistic worries with logic. And it's impossible, why waste my money and time and effort on it? And thus the motivation is lost. So yeah. Motivation is a bitch. And I desperately need her. - Vrell, Depressed Trans Girl

#hate my degree #the fuck is a hashtag #wall of text #RoaDTG is a terrible acronym

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