#i think i’ve only watched this movie once back in kindergarten when a teacher brought it in for the class to watch

[punster-2319]

Looks like they’ve finally added Angels in the Outfield onto Disney+

[jimlingss]

(sorry my tumblr app glitched so im not sure if this was sent twice) taking a chance for the requests! how about a seokjin or namjoon arranged marriage au with this: “Am I your lockscreen?” “You weren’t supposed to see that.” 🎄 happy holidays!!

↳ Playground Promises

1.9k || 100% Light Fluff || Kim Seokjin

The bell rings.

Moments later, children are sprinting from the doors and flooding the playground. You watch in fondness as some climb the monkey bars while others sit and dig into the sandbox. All of them were forging their first friendships they’ll remember forever and you were their witness.

This is one of your favourite times of day. You enjoy seeing the kids have their fun, listening to their laughter and giggles, watching their games of tag to play pretend. But today, your enjoyment is interrupted by a certain male teacher that comes to stand behind you.

Tall. Dark. And handsome. His broad shoulders carry the weight of the third-grade class and practically the entire elementary school. But you’d never admit that out loud.

“It’s a bit chilly out today. You should’ve brought your coat with you.”

You hum.

Every staff member, married and single, swoons over Kim Seokjin. It’s hard not to. But if others knew what your relationship was with him, you’re sure you’d never hear the end of it. The kids would make a big fuss and so would all the staff and faculty, and you’d rather avoid that.

“I didn’t know you were on playground duty today.”

“I switched with Sana,” he says and leans over to smile. “Thought you could use some company.”

You scoff. “She’s perfectly fine company.”

The corner of his plump lip pulls. “If you want to talk about the mathletes program. And I’m pretty sure you don’t.”

Before you can respond, a boy approaches the two of you with pink cheeks and wind-swept hair. “Mr. Kim, can I go to the bathroom?” the third-grader asks in the midst of catching his breath and the older man nods.

“Go ahead. But don’t run in the hallway, Lucas.” 

Said boy grins and dashes off.

Seokjin turns to you and lowers his voice. “My mom’s been asking about the kids.”

Your brows furrow. “Why? They’re a good bunch.”

“No.” He shakes his head. “I don’t mean your class’ kids, I mean our kids.”

You blink owlishly. “There are no our kids.”

“That’s the problem.”

You sigh and roll your eyes. “Wasn’t getting married enough for them?”

Seokjin shrugs with a faint, mischievous smile. “They want to go out for brunch with your parents this Sunday. Are you free?”

“When am I not free?” you retort lightly, but slip your phone out of your pocket to check your calendar anyhow. Seokjin glances over to your screen and once you finish, you slip it back into your pocket. “I have some marking to do, but I’ll probably finish by then.”

“Okay.” The pair of you turn back to continue monitoring the children playing and you’re glad to revel in the silence that’s been created between you. But after a beat, Kim Seokjin pipes up again. You don’t know why you’re surprised. He’s quite the talkative guy. “Hey, Y/N.”

You look over and he meets your eye.

He asks, “Am I your lock screen?”

Your face heats. If you were once cold, now you were warm from head to toe. “You weren’t supposed to see that,” you mumble. It was just a picture from the other day and you wanted to change things up on your phone. You had nothing else to use. It was convenient. That’s it.

Your entire relationship with him is built on convenience. At least...on his side it is.

Still, Seokjin grins and fortunately, he doesn’t tease.

You rush to change the subject. “A-Anyway, yeah, Sunday works for me. But we should probably talk about this after work.”

“Why? No one’s around.” His smile is spread from ear to ear and he leans in, whispering, “Are you that scared of people finding out we’re married?”

Immediately, you whip your head in all directions. Luckily, there’s no kid or nosy faculty member. You turn back to him, glaring. “I already said, I like to keep my private life under wraps.”

“I remember. But if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were embarrassed of me.”

You scoff and a murmur unintentionally spills out of you, “That’s impossible.”

You don’t notice Seokjin’s smile.

It’s been three months since you got married. It was a summer wedding. More importantly, it was an arranged marriage. And not because you were both wealthy and needed to be wedded to get the inheritance under some arbitrary contract rule or because it was your grandmother’s dying wish. No. You live a much more mundane, normal life than the dramas, movies and books.

It was your mom who threw a fuss. She was scared you’d be alone and unmarried, an old maid like your aunt — you didn’t say it, she just heavily implied it. But following her practically senile meltdown, you agreed. Partly to appease her worries and partly just out of curiosity.

You always wanted to get married. And deep down, you always wanted your own kids. But at the rate you were going, you had a feeling you wouldn’t be able to meet someone on your own.

What you didn’t expect on that blind date was for the other person to be Kim Seokjin, third grade teacher. Down the hall from you at the school. Someone across the room every lunchtime. Your dads were apparently long time colleagues, but Jin was still as equally shocked as you were during that first meeting. Yet, he easily agreed to getting married when you brought it up. Even when it was only after two months of occasionally seeing one another outside of your workplaces.

You still don’t know why he said yes.

“Ms. L/N!”

You’re torn out of your trance by a little girl at your knees. 

She pouts. “Jennie won’t let me play on the slide!”

“Did you ask her to share?”

“Yes!”

Before any more can be said, she drags you over and Seokjin trails after you. There’s another girl with brown braided hair climbing on the slide, and she swivels her head over as the two of you approach, eyes the size of saucers. 

“Are you taking turns, Jennie?” you ask her, and she vigorously nods.

“I am!”

“Well, you’ve been on it for a while. How about Lisa takes a turn next.”

“Okay,” she draws out and gets off of the slide before turning to her friend. “Here you go.”

It’s always little problems you have to solve — from sharing to knee scrapes and monkey bar accidents. Sometimes it’s difficult for the children to compromise, difficult for them to apologize and difficult for you to find a good solution. But you undoubtedly wish your own issues were this simple.

While you’re stuck in your thoughts, you miss Jin watching you fondly. 

“You’re good with kids,” he says as you move out of the way of running children and walk back to the perimeter.

“I wouldn’t be doing this job if I wasn’t. But I deal with older kids much better.” There’s a reason you teach fifth graders and not any lower than that. Seokjin knows it too.

“Remember when we had to supervise that kindergarten class together?”

You shudder. “It was a nightmare.”

“You weren’t that bad,” he tries to say but then laughs. You feign a glare, and he adds on, “Okay. I’m sorry, but I still mean it. It’s not as terrible as you thought. You’d make a good mom.” 

At that, your glare vanishes in favour of furrowing brows. You really shouldn’t, but you can’t help it when curiosity pries — so you break your own rule against discussing private matters at work. 

“Do you want my kids?”

Seokjin is wide-eyed and he turns to you. “Why not? We’re married.”

“Yeah….but…”

“But? Do you not want kids?” 

“No! I definitely want them,” you declare, almost a bit too boldly. He nods and you explain, “It’s just...I don’t know if you’re serious.”

Seokjin blinks. “I’m being perfectly serious.”

“I mean I don’t know if we’re serious.” You add, “Enough to have kids.”

“What’s more serious than being married?” Jin has a genuinely inquisitive and amused expression, head quirked to the side. 

You inhale a sharp breath and his gaze coaxes you to go on, so you do. “It’s just that you agreed so quickly to be married to me. It doesn’t….feel real. I don’t know if you wanted to marry me, if you did it on a whim, if this is some kind of joke—”

He frowns. “This isn’t a joke, Y/N. I wanted to marry you.”

Your mouth hangs open. Your eyes are rounded.

“Wh—”

“Mrs. L/N!” You’re interrupted by your fifth-grader, Park Jimin. He sprints to you, huffing and puffing, before leaning his hands onto his knees to catch his breath. “Have you seen Taehyung?! We’re playing tag!”

“No, I haven’t.”

Jin suddenly points to the left. “He went that way.”

Jimin books it.

Silence fills the spaces between you and Seokjin again, but it isn’t like normal. It’s filled with unanswered questions and the suspenseful cliffhanger of an unfinished conversation. The laughter of kids on the playground and field resound around you, but for the first time, you don’t listen to it. 

It fades into the background as you turn to Seokjin, wanting to know more. “What did you just say?”

The man smiles softly. “You have to know.”

“I don’t,” you assert. “So tell me.”

“I’ve always liked you.”

You blink and he continues, “Since you substituted for the art teacher and I saw you squirt red paint all over yourself. It’s something I couldn’t forget. Plus, the way you draw those stick people.” Seokjin laughs heartily and you’re trapped in your spot, unsure of how to react or what to say. He reads your expression and softens. “Did you really think I would rush into a marriage if I didn’t have feelings for you?”

“I…” Your mouth is agape. “I don’t know. Why did we never talk about this?”

Seokjin shrugs. “You never asked and I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable if you didn’t feel the same way. I knew you married me for convenience.”

“That’s not true,” you retort within a beat. This whole time, you thought he married you for convenience sake. But it wasn’t entirely like that for you.

Seokjin’s eyes are big and you swallow down your embarrassment. “Isn’t it obvious every single breathing person loves you? It’s hard not to.”

Slowly but surely, a grin spreads into Seokjin’s puffy cheeks and he’s smiling from ear to ear again. “Well, you’re very good at hiding it then.”

Suddenly, the bell rings.

All the children reluctantly climb off the equipment, some dusting their hands while others grabbing their friends, and they rush into their lineups. There’s a few stranglers lugging their legs while groaning. But busy in their small playground worlds, no one turns around to notice you leaning in and pressing a chaste kiss to Seokjin’s mouth. It’s shy and brief, like the first peck exchanged between two for the first time. And you pull away just as fast, lips left tingling.

“We can continue this later, Mr. Kim.”

You stride off while Seokjin’s left smiling. After a breathless moment, he chases after you like children who have just made promises of their first love on the playground.

[shemarmooresfedora]

If the World is Ending, I Want to Fuck You First

Summary: You need to do one last thing during the zombie apocalypse.

Pairing: Kyle Orfman (MGG character in Life After Beth) x Fem!Reader

MINORS DNI (18+ ONLY)

Content/Warnings: swearing, smut, blowjob, praise kink, sub!kyle, gun violence (used against zombies), vaginal sex, choking, fluffy ending (let me know if i missed anything)

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: okay i know this is a lesser famous mgg character but i beg of you to give this fic a try because i think it’s my best smut yet and i love the ending. you don’t need to have watched the movie to understand (i give a few visuals).

Masterlist

“Open the goddamn door, Jacob,” you pounded on your ex’s door, “I want my shit back.”

A car with sirens pulled up in the driveway. Great, you thought, the cops. But when you turned around, it was just an old tan sedan with ‘Briarwood Security’ written on it.

You turned back around, “Jacob, I know you’re fucking home, you cheating son of a bitch.

“What seems to be the problem here?” a tall, lean man with a slicked back undercut dressed in a beige security uniform approached the front door.

“My cheating ex won’t give me my stuff back,” you continued to pound at the door, “I have a laptop in there!”

He sighed and spoke quietly, “This is technically still trespassing because he didn’t necessarily steal it but let me see what I can do.”

“Jacob Peterson,” he knocked on the door, “This is Briarwood Security. I need you to open the door or I have the clearance to break it down.”

He whispered to you, “I actually don’t,” and you giggled.

Jacob swung open the door with your bag of stuff.

“Take your crap and go,” he shoved the bag into your arms.

“Gladly, asshole,” you checked to make sure everything was in there.

You nodded to the security guard and Jacob slammed the door once again.

“Do you need a ride home?” he asked, noticing your lack of a car.

“I live like a mile away so I just walked here but yeah, if you don’t mind, that would be great,” you accepted.

He opened the trunk for you to put your bag of belongings inside.

“Kyle,” you hummed, looking at his little name tag.

“And you are?”

“Y/N,” you stuck out your hand for him to shake and he accepted it.

“Kyle, I have a proposition for you,” you said as you entered the passenger side of the car.

“Okay…” he looked at you.

“Let me suck your dick.”

Kyle stared straight at you for a minute, not moving.

“Hello?” you asked, waving your hand in front of his face.

“Sorry, what did you say?” he snapped out of his daze.

“Let me suck your dick,” you repeated, “I don’t want his,” you pointed to Jacob’s door, “to be the last dick I sucked and I want him to see your car still parked out here, knowing exactly what we are doing. Plus, you get an orgasm out of it.”

“I’m on the job,” he tried to resist.

“If you really don’t want to, that’s okay. I’m not trying to pressure you. I just think this could be a mutually beneficial agreement.”

Kyle nodded, putting the car in reverse and starting to back out of the driveway. He made it about halfway before he braked and put the car back in park.

“Yeah?” you asked.

“Please,” he begged.

You looked down and as your eyes adjusted to the evening darkness, you could see the obvious bulge strain in his khakis.

You leaned over the center console, untucking his uniform and unbuckling his belt. You slowly unzipped his fly to tease him as he squirmed underneath you.

“Patience, my sweet boy” you hummed and your warm breath fanned out across his dick.

His needy whines were beautiful. You sat back up and removed your shirt, leaving you in just a lacy bralette.

“Please,” he pleaded again.

“Because you asked so nicely,” you leaned back down and licked a long strip up from the base of his dick to the tip, swirling your tongue at the top.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his hands moving to your hair.

“Hands off,” you ordered and he whined but complied.

You took him in inch by inch. He was certainly the biggest you’ve ever been with. You gagged when he bottomed out in your throat.

You could feel him using all his self-control to restrain his hands to his side.

You bobbed your head up and down, taking up a quick pace. His melodic groans filled the car.

“I’m gonna-” he panted, “Can I please cum?”

“Yes, you’ve been such a good boy for me, baby. Let go. You can touch me now,” you spoke.

His hands moved to your hair just as his hips bucked up, shooting his load into your mouth. You accepted it all with a moan and swallowed.

You took a few more gentle sucks before releasing him from your mouth. As you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, Kyle stared at you adoringly.

“Ummm, thank you? I’m not really sure what to say,” he finally spoke.

“Just drive,” you laughed.

-

You woke up to a loud crashing sound coming from downstairs. You reached for your cell but it was dead even though it was plugged in. The power must have gone out. You grabbed your emergency battery-powered flashlight from underneath your bed and your bottle of pepper spray.

You quietly snuck down the stairs but when you turned the corner, you came face-to-face with your old kindergarten teacher who died a couple of years ago. She was definitely dead but still walking somehow. You screamed as she tried to grab you as you ran for the door.

You burst out of the door to see the street crawling with zombies of dead people you used to know. You ran towards the direction of the police station. You got about a half a mile until the deceased retired high school football coach tackled you to the ground.

You fought and kicked and screamed, trying to avoid him biting you. You thought it was over until you heard the sound of a gunshot and the zombie limply collapsed on top of you. You pushed it off with a yelp.

A hand reached down to help you up, you looked up to see Kyle standing there in a slightly bloody orange jumpsuit.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

You nodded slowly.

“We should get off the street but I’ve cleared this whole neighborhood so we should be okay,” he grabbed your hand.

You looked down at your interlocked hands, “I don’t know if it’s just the adrenaline talking but if the world is ending, I want to fuck you first.”

Kyle smiled softly, “It would be a hell of a last memory but I won’t let anything happen to you.”

He pulled you towards his house and jumped the fence to his backyard.

“I don’t think zombies can climb,” he said, looking up at his childhood treehouse.

“This is a first,” you laughed softly as you headed up the ladder with Kyle right behind you.

“I can feel your eyes staring at my ass,” you said as you climbed the ladder.

“It’s right in front of me! Where do you want me to look?” he defended himself.

“Didn’t say it was a bad thing,” you smirked.

Immediately upon crawling into the treehouse, your lips were on his.

“How do you want it, baby?” you whispered into his ear.

“Ride me, please,” he whined.

You put a hand on his chest and gently pushed him back onto the wooden floor. You unzipped his jumpsuit hastily, ripping your shirt and shorts off in the process.

You released his dick from the confines of his tight black boxers and stroked it a couple of times.

“You ready?” you asked as you lined yourself up above him.

“Yes,” he nodded enthusiastically.

You sank down on his dick, adjusting to the feeling of him inside you. Kyle’s head fell back in pure pleasure.

You wrapped a tentative hand around his neck, only applying more pressure when his moans increased in volume.

His hips were bucking up to meet yours at a ferocious pace.

“Ah fuck! I think I just got a splinter in my ass,” he yelped.

“Shhh baby, you can take it. You’re fucking me so good, my sweet boy,” you continued to ride him and guided his hands up to your boobs.

Kyle groaned at the praise, “I’m close-God, I’m so close.”

“Give me a few more seconds. I know you can, baby,” you frantically rubbed your clit in order to finish with him.

“Okay, fill me up like a good boy,” you whispered into his ear.

Kyle’s hands grappled at your hips as he bucked up into you one last time. As you both came down from your highs, you collapsed on top of him.

The two of you just laid like that for a while. Catching your breath while soaking up the skin-to-skin contact.

“You know I was going to go back to your apartment and ask you on a date? You know…before the whole world went to shit. Besides giving me the best blowjob of my life, you just seemed like a really cool, beautiful girl,” Kyle admitted.

“Too bad you didn’t get the chance, I would have said yes.”

“Can I leave you here for just a second?” he asked quietly.

You hugged him closer, “I would prefer it if you didn’t.”

“Well, I would prefer it if you stayed up here where I know it’s safe. I need to get supplies and I’m armed,” he reasoned with you.

“Promise you’ll come back,” you had tears in your eyes.

“I promise,” he held out his pinky and you wrapped yours around it, both of you kissing your fists.

You and Kyle got redressed and you watched him climb down the ladder and head into his house with his gun fully loaded. And then, you waited. You counted the seconds. You were at 381 when he finally returned.

“Thank god,” you let out a sigh of relief.

He started to unpack the bag he brought with him. He pulled out a blanket and set it on the floor for you both to sit on. Then, pillows. Next, he pulled out leftover cold pizza.

“Ah, gourmet,” you jokingly smiled.

He pulled out red solo cups and placed one in between you both, putting in a rose he plucked from his mom’s rose bush.

Finally, he pulled a very expensive bottle of whiskey from the bag and filled your cups.

“My dad was saving this for a special occasion, I think zombies coming back from the dead and the world ending qualifies,” he grinned.

The world didn’t end. In fact, you were just starting your new life with your future husband.

taglist (just ask to be added or removed!): @samuel-de-champagne-problems @g0lden-cth @spencerreid9 @averyhotchner @coldlilheart @k-k0129 @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @harrystylesandthegoobs @cmily @jswessie187 @rem-ariiana @hoodpankow @mochionly @spencerreid-187

[kaylans-imagines]

0. i hate her

pairing: peter b. parker x fem! reader

synopsis: in which y/n hates everything about peter parker, especially the way she can’t really hate him

↳ loosely based on the movie with the same title

warnings: cursing, fluff, a generous amount of angst, peter's an asshole, y/n's an asshole, familial death, incarceration. i don't know if there's more.

chapter warnings: cursing, starts off slow, flash.

series masterlist

*gif credits to the rightful owner*

The brisk air of the changing seasons accompanied Peter as he made his way to the school entrance from the train stop. His headphones sat snuggly inside his ears, playing a song that made the usually lonely journey to school less so. Ned didn’t take the same route as he did, so he had no one to talk to or make the trek to school less boring. He didn’t mind it; it gave him time to think and even finish school work. Still, sometimes he wanted someone by his side so he could discuss whatever was on his mind that day or ask questions whenever an assignment didn’t make sense.

The long ride to the school did give him time to people watch. There were times when he would deduce who could be a possible threat. Other times, he would simply look at people and try to figure out their stories without actually talking to them. The old lady who brought her cat onto the subway had severe separation anxiety caused by her estranged son. The man with exhausted eyes who looked like he was on the brink of passing out on his seat had a newborn daughter at home. And Peter was just trying to get to school, along with the other teenager on the subway. He didn’t talk to him, they were on entirely different wavelengths, but there was an understanding between the two of them. Whenever they saw each other, they would nod their heads in greeting. They would always sit one seat away from one another, and if the other was running late, they would wait.

He made his way up the stairs and towards the school, turning up the volume as a way to tune out the sounds of high school that he hated. The cheery rhymes that left the sounds of the cheerleaders to the arguing of students over who was right; he hated them before the bite, and he especially despised them now that he had hypersensitive hearing. Sighing in annoyance, he looked both ways before crossing the street only to rush forward as a car came barreling down the road.

“I swear to god, Y/N!” he heard her sister, Juliette, shriek, “we almost killed him!”

“But we didn’t. If you’re going to complain about my driving, then you can take the bus, Jules,”

“You almost killed someone!” Peter heard her exclaim. He could feel the way Y/N rolled her eyes.

“It’s only Peter,” she stated, making eye contact with him through the rearview as she let students pass, “who cares if he gets slightly scuffled?”

“You have literal issues,” Julie gasped. The car sped down the road, leaving Peter alone with a slightly elevated heart rate and irritation laced in his bones. It was the first day of school, and he nearly got run over. And by his ex-best friend turned enemy at that. He couldn’t wait to complain to Ned.

Their dynamic had changed, and Peter blamed her. They became friends because of Y/N’s grandmother and May in kindergarten. They were two birds of a feather until halfway towards seventh grade when Y/N became snippy and ruined what Peter thought was their perfect friendship. They drifted apart, and he blamed her for it breaking apart. He watched as she became someone he didn’t know anymore and left him behind. He just didn’t think it was fair for her to act self-righteous when she ruined their relationship.

“You okay, Pete?” Ned questioned as he fell into step with Peter, who was fuming with irritation.

“Yeah, just almost got run over by Midtown’s resident ice bitch,” he gritted. Ned nodded in response. He was friends with both Peter and Y/N once upon a time. Still, after everything she had put them through and the abrupt way she ended their friendship, he sided with Peter and subsequently lost a friend. He figured it was for the best. He wasn’t as resentful as Peter was—his friendship with Y/N hadn’t been built in kindergarten—but he still didn’t appreciate her actions.

“Oh,” he nodded in understanding, “are you okay at least?”

“Yeah, but it did sorta ruin my mood,” Peter confessed. He was having a pretty good morning until his reflexes were put to the test. He woke up on the right side of the bed and had time to eat breakfast with May before she went to work. The walk towards the subway station was nice; he said hi to everyone he usually greeted and even got a muffin from the lady with the three-year-old daughter. Then the subway wasn’t as busy as it usually was, so he wasn’t squashed next to the man with the foul body odor and could actually sit down. All of that happiness came crashing down the second he saw her in her car, looking unapologetic for nearly killing him and then dismissing her sister for chastising her.

“Well, get happy, my arachnid friend, because I heard some exciting news,” Ned smiled, poking him on the arm as they walked to their first class.

“What?”

“You’re top of our class, which means you’re a shoo-in for valedictorian,” Ned said excitedly. Peter grinned at that. All of his hard work would finally be noticed and celebrated. He had been working on greeting his class for four years, doing extracurriculars, and taking on extra projects for grade boosts. Sometimes he even stayed after school to help his teachers grade papers or help the librarian sort the books back into their respective spots on the shelves. It would all be worth it in the end after he finally reached the goal he had set for himself his freshman year.

There was a snag in his plans. While he may have been top of his class, that didn’t mean that he couldn’t be pushed from his place. Y/N Y/L/N was the smartest girl at Midtown. She was everything he wasn’t. She was popular—if the excessive amounts of clubs she was part of were any indication. She was social—everyone talked about the interactions they had with Midtown’s princess. She was everywhere, and nothing Peter was. She was the head of the planning committee, and everyone knew that any school party planned by Y/N Y/L/N never disappointed. Peter couldn’t compete. He found peace in knowing that he was slightly better than her at academics.

The two continued walking in silence, content with the atmosphere they had created after finding out that Peter would finally have something go his way for once. He figured it was the least the universe could do for him. He had lost both parents before he could make memories with them, then he lost his best friend, and then he got bitten by a spider that changed his life; for better or for worse, he didn’t know. Being valedictorian wouldn’t take away the hurt the world inflicted on him, but it would make him feel somewhat better.

With a skip in his step, he walked into class with a grin so large, he didn’t think anything could bring him down. Of course, he thought wrong. His English teacher had to make a day he felt he could turn around into one he wished would end faster.

“It’s about time you all had a project—the topic of discussion, poetry. You will be partnered up and tasked with reading and creating your own poems by the end of the month,” she paused, waiting for her class to stop looking at one another and whispering amongst themselves, “I’ve already chosen your partners, so it would do you all some good to stop getting your hopes up and listen.”

With that, the high schoolers shifted in their seats and gave their attention back to their teacher. She was good at pairing up students who were cordial with one another and worked well together. Friendships usually sparked from her partnering, sometimes even relationships. So Peter, and the rest of the class, weren’t as annoyed as they wanted to be. They knew she wouldn’t let them down. Peter waited eagerly as she listed off students who would be working together. He hoped he got paired up with someone who matched his work ethic or someone he got along with.

“Peter Parker, you will be with Y/N Y/L/N,” and just like that, he hated English class and lost all faith in his teacher. He looked across the room to where the said girl was seated. She was writing in her planner—Peter was sure she was planning Ms. Ingrid’s death—but she looked up when her name was called. She turned her head and met Peter’s eyes, unamused and bored. She shook her head and looked at her planner once again. Peter took that as a sign to do the same and focus on anything other than his rising anger.

Peter watched as everyone moved to meet their partners, many of them happily talking to one another. He was stubborn. He decided that if she wasn’t going to make an effort to push aside whatever hatred she had towards him and talk to him for the sake of their grades, he wasn’t going to. He was going to sit in his seat and read a poem from the packet his teacher had handed out. Just because he had a lousy partner didn’t mean his grade had to suffer. He would complete the project by himself if he had to.

“Mister Parker, last I checked, you were to be working with Miss Y/L/N,” Miss Ingrid quipped as she walked to Peter’s desk with a teasing smile.

“Actually, Miss, I was hoping I could talk to you about that?” He asked. He liked Miss Ingrid. She was understanding and compassionate, and she didn’t talk down to her students as if they were children.

“Something wrong, Peter?” she asked, concerned. Peter felt bad. He knew he was petty, and his favorite teacher didn’t need to be pulled down to his level. But he couldn’t bring himself to work with someone who didn’t want to work with him. That usually meant he was left to do the work by himself and watch the other person still get credit. It infuriated him so much he would rather do the project himself from the start.

“Yeah, um, I can’t work with Y/N,” he muttered, smiling at her with an embarrassed smile. Peter admitted it sounded stupid and childish when said aloud, but he had his reasons.

“And, pray tell, Peter, why not?”

“I just don’t think we would work well together,” he confessed. Seeing the look on her face, Peter was quick to defend himself more, “and I just don’t want to do the work for someone else and have them get credit for doing nothing. So, if it’s alright with you, Miss Ingrid, I would like to work on this on my own.” He was practically begging. Hoping she would agree.

“I’m sorry, Peter, but this is a partner project. To lessen the workload,” she sighed, “besides, I don’t think you have anything to worry about with Y/N; she’s very good at doing her share.” She stood up with those final words and tapped the table before standing up and sending him a smile. He sighed, putting his head down and looking at his desk in annoyance. He looked up when a book landed on his desk. Closing his eyes to keep himself from exploding at whoever shattered his tranquility, he was met with eyes he used to find joy looking into. Now, he never wanted to look into them ever again.

“We’re partners. I don’t like it, you don’t like it, but we have to do it otherwise, our grades will plummet, and you can’t afford that if you want to be valedictorian. So, we’re going to push our difference aside for this one project and do it, so we never have to talk to again,” she said curtly.

That left no room for argument, which caused Peter to nod his head in agreement. She was right; he couldn’t afford to lose the one thing he was looking forward to being. Sighing deeply, he motioned for her to sit down and opened the book she threw on his desk. She took a seat beside him and opened another poetry book, focusing on the words written on the paper and trying to plan their poem out. They had to get a good grade; she didn’t want him to blame her for something else.

Despite his annoyance and hatred towards her, he couldn’t help but glance up from the book he was reading. Of course, he had seen her around, it was hard to ignore one of the most known girls in the school, but he had never taken the time to admire her. His anger and betrayal kept him from doing so. She still had the same gleeful look in her eyes and the confident aura around her. Time had done her well. She had lost her kidlike features, and it was evident that she had matured. He would be a liar if he said she wasn’t pretty, and even that didn’t truly justify it.

When the bell signaled the end of class, Peter quickly grabbed his belongings and left the classroom. He didn’t stop to wait for anyone, much less Y/N. Their only interactions would be in the English room, a controlled space where she couldn’t kill him for so much as breathing in her direction. Walking towards his locker, he heard the noises of people as they navigated the busy halls of the school. Stopping at his locker with a sigh, he leaned his head on the cool metal. The day had been long, and he shrill had six other classes to go to.

A tap on his shoulder made him pick up his head. Y/N stood in front of him, bouncing on her feet as she played with her fingers.

“You left before I could ask when you can meet up. The faster we get this done, the faster we can stop being around one another,” she quipped. “I’m free on Friday after school.”

“I’m not. I have the Stark internship,”

She rolled her eyes at his response, “okay and? We need to get this done so we can go back to never speaking to each other. I’m sure Tony Stark will understand that you need to take one day off to do a school project.”

“Not happening. I don’t know if you know this, but you’re not worth losing the internship over,” he jibed. He missed the look of hurt that flashed on her face. She shook her head and scoffed.

“Well, we need to get this done. Either we work on this stupid project on Friday, or we’re both failing,” she reminded before walking away. Peter groaned and banged his head on the now open door. He ignored the looks he got from his locker neighbors and kept his head buried in the empty space. Friday’s were the days he went into the Avenger’s compound and actively worked in the lab with Tony after he finished his Spider-Man duties; the last thing he wanted to do was infect the compound with her hatred and bad vibes.

He didn’t want to invite her, but he had been working on something with Tony for the past two weeks that he needed to finish. He figured he could get some work done while someone gave her a tour around the facility—probably Steve. He was easy to convince—then he would work on the English project with her and beg father time to go faster. She was right; the quicker they finished their work, the faster he could go back to hating her. With another groan, he picked up his head and closed his locker, rushing after Y/N and grabbing her by the wrist when he caught her before she slipped into her next class.

“Friday. We’ll meet after school in the parking lot and go to the Avenger’s facility. You can drive, right?” she nodded and pulled her hand out of his grip, glaring at him.

“Don’t ever grab me like that again,” she sneered, “but fine, whatever. I have to drop Jules off at home first though, is that gonna be a problem, Peter?” He knew she wasn’t asking him.

“No, whatever,” she nodded curtly and walked in, not sparing him a glance. He shook his head and walked away. Anger seeped into his bones, and annoyance clouded his head. The following weeks were going to be torture. He just knew. There was nothing worse than being forced to work with someone the person despised.

“Hey, Penis Parker!” there are worse things, apparently. He breathed out through his nose and turned around, meeting his eyes. He knew if he ignored Flash, he wouldn’t give up. He was relentless, and his voice sounded like nails on a chalkboard.

“What, Flash?” he ground out. Flash skidded to a stop beside him with a sick smile on his face.

“I heard from a little birdie that you were partnered up with Midtwon’s resident Princess,” he started.

“Yeah, so?” he questioned. He wanted out of the conversation as soon as possible. He didn’t want to talk to his bully about his enemy. That didn’t sound like a fun Tuesday.

“So, you can help me,”

“One, why would I help you with anything?” he questioned, “and two, I’m going to regret asking, but what could I possibly help you with?”

“Because I have something you might like, and you’re going to help me get Jules Y/L/N to go to the Fall Dance with me,” Peter paused in his step and furrowed his eyebrows.

“Okay, so what does that have to do with me being partners with Y/N? Can’t you just ask Jules?”

Flash snorted, “you’re an idiot, Parker. You don’t just ask the Jules Y/L/N out, okay? Everyone knows that Y/N tells her every negative thing about the guys at Midtown to keep her uninterested and that they’re always together.” He stated.

“I’m still not sure where I fall into this or what you could possibly offer me in return,”

“I’m glad you asked,” Peter rolled his eyes but continued listening, “if you can get Y/N to, I don’t know, fall in love with you so she eases off her ‘I hate the men at Midtown’ rhetoric, then I can swoop in and take Jules to the dance without a hitch.”

“And what do I get in return?”

“Two hundred bucks does wonders for the poor, no?” Flash snarked.

“Three hundred, and you’ve got yourself a deal, Eugene,” Peter smirked. Flash blinked in anger but nodded his head anyway, reaching his hand out and shaking it. Flash walked away and left Peter in the empty hallway, rethinking everything he had agreed to. It was cruel and harsh. Sure, Y/N had stopped being his friend and became a bitch towards him, but he would be playing with someone’s feelings. Then again, three hundred dollars could help May with the bills, and it would be retribution for all the shit Y/N had put him through.

He was going to do it, and he wouldn’t allow himself to feel guilty for it. Because it was her, and she deserved to feel some of the pain she had put him through.

next

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[hearteyesbowen]

practicing lines ☆ ricky bowen

nothing says high school plays like two lead actors hating each other to their core

warnings: slight angst, slight fluff, some swearing, heavy making out

part I , part II

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

If there is one thing Y/N hated most, it was Richard Bowen.

Richard “Ricky” Bowen was the high school sweetheart. The most polite and respectful man in his grade, and probably his school. He held the door for anyone and everyone, he offers to help his teachers in need of grading test papers, and he seems to be the perfect boyfriend material. That’s not what you thought.

You despise everything about him. The reason for your resentment was due to the fact that you got the part for Gabriella when he wanted Nini to get the part so they could rekindle their broken love. Ever since then, he has been nothing but rude and obnoxious to you. You did everything you could to try and make peace with him, but he only cared about his stupid plan to fix his own mistakes.

It was clear to the whole school of the mutual hatred between you two. Although Miss Jenn tried to warm you up to each other with her bonding exercises and one-on-one script read throughs, nothing was more powerful than your anger for each other.

Today, after learning that the school’s stage was mysteriously burned down, you all traveled to the El Ray Theatre.

“Ok kids, let’s go to page five.” She yelled, taking her clipboard and standing on the side with Carlos.

You scrambled through your bag, grabbing the heavy script that Carlos printed out for you. You turn on your heels swiftly, only to crash into your ignorant co-star.

“Watch it, happy feet.” Rick snarled, towering over you.

“Why not give me some personal space, Richard?” You smirked. “Almost makes me think you have a crush on me.”

“You fucking wish, Y/N.”

“Language, Ricky.” Miss Jenn warned.

You give him an innocent smile, turning your back on him as you walked to center stage. You heard him groan under his breath as he trailed behind you.

You both stood next to each other, or five feet apart from each other, flipping the pages of your script to the next scene. You quickly skimmed through the page, reading through the scene you were about to act out.

“Let’s go to the scene where Troy and-”

You heard a loud snap coming from the ceiling. “Watch out!” Someone from the back screeched.

You felt a strong pair of arms grab you and pull you to their body, covering your head. A large sand bag fell from the roof, making everyone around you scream and hold on to each other.

“Is everyone ok?” You heard Seb cry out.

You look up from your hands that covered your eyes and saw horror in everyone’s eyes, from the sack to you. Confused, you remembered that you were in someone’s grasp. You look up and see Ricky, breathing heavily. He looked at you and everything was quiet.

You pushed yourself off of him, sweeping your body from the dust in the air. Ricky did the same, clearing his throat and avoiding your gaze.

“Maybe we should take a five.” Miss Jenn hummed, “Ricky and Y/N can go and look for a quiet, hopefully safer place to practice lines while the rest of us can figure out how to work the lights and not die.”

➢➣ ➢➣

“Wow, not even a goddamn thank you for saving your life?” Ricky asked annoyingly as he closed the door behind him.

You had both found a hidden storage room in the dusty halls of the theatre. Inside were worn out dresses with threads popping out, multiple broken chairs probably used during performances, and an old piano.

You rolled your eyes, “No one asked you to save me, Dicky.”

“What did you just call me?” He growled.

“I said Dicky.” You spat. You dusted off the chair of the piano before sitting down, leaving room for Ricky.

He rolled his eyes and took off his navy hoodie. His shirt went up a little, revealing his toned chest. You forced yourself to stop staring and tried to ignore him as he sat down, leaving as much room in between you two as possibly without falling off the bench. His hands grazed they top of the piano before pressing his fingers on top of the keys. He began to mess around with the notes, playing small and random tunes. His eyes were glued to the instrument as he played, and you noticed a small smile forming on his lips as he practiced . You almost forgot about everything as you listened to him play. Watching him focus on his music brought a shiver to your body, and almost a warm feeling in your stomach. You had never felt this towards Ricky, all you felt was anger. But now, this whole new feeling brought a new light to you.

“Should we start practicing our lines?” Ricky asked, turning to look at you. A heat ran to your cheeks as you both stared at each other. You noticed a change in his eyes and saw him glance down at your lips once.

“Yeah, uhm, go to page five.” You said, turning away and grabbing your script from the top of the piano.

Ricky was still in shock of what happened. He got up from the bench and grabbed his script from a tall, wooden shelf next to the door. He watched as you turn around the seat to face him, still looking at your script. He noticed your tongue stick out ever so slightly which made him smile. He quickly wiped the smile from his face, bewildered by his reaction.

“I don’t need my script, do you?” You ask softly.

His throat went dry as he looked at you, your hair falling slightly over your flushed cheeks. Something in him clicked, and his knees began to grow heavy.

“No, you’re perfect-that’s perfect.” He rambled.

You kept the page of the scene open and placed the script next to you on the bench. “Remember in kindergarten, you’d meet a kid, know nothing about them, then ten seconds later, you were best friends?” You recite.

“Yeah.” Ricky mumbled.

“Singing with you felt like that.”

“I never thought about singing, that’s for sure. Until you. And now,” He said, gazing into your eyes. “And now,” He repeated, seeming lost.

“What an actor you are.” You joked, giggling a little.

“What does that mean?” He asked somewhat annoyingly.

“It was a joke, Ricky. Calm down.” You countered, standing up as you got more irritated. “You can’t take a joke?”

“I’m sorry, aren’t you the one who can’t even thank someone for saving their life?”

“That bag was no where near me, idiot. What were you trying to save me from? Dust bunnies?” You yelled.

Ricky scoffed, “And to think I thought we were getting better at being nicer to each other. I’ve tried so hard to make things between us better but clearly you don’t want that. I’m just waisting my time.”

You were taken back. “How is all of this my fault? You are the one who started getting pissed off at me for getting the lead when you wanted Nini. Is that why you fucking hate me? Because I’m not your ex girlfriend who is happy with her new boyfriend?” You screamed, your fists curled into each other tightly.

Ricky’s rich brown eyes grew shinier, his mouth agape and in shock. Neither of you have fought like this before.

“I’m sorry.” He said, taking the smallest step towards you. You took a small step back, feeling yourself close to the wall. “I’m an idiot.”

“That’s one way to put it.” You mumbled, stepping back one more step as you hit the door

“Look, I know it was wrong for me to be mad at you for getting the part. I was so caught up in the idea of me winning back Nini like they do in the movies that I totally disregarded your feelings too.” He confessed. “I started to realized how wrong I was about you a while ago, but we were so deep into our frustration for each other I didn’t know what to do but to try and start being more polite. I’m the worst guy in the world and you never deserved to be treated like a dick, it was all my fault.”

“I shouldn’t have been so rude either.” You muttered, “It was childish for me to retaliate with an attitude instead of just working it out, you know? I deserved some of the harshness from you.”

“Can we agree that this was on the both of us?” He begged, letting out a little laugh.

“Yeah, for sure.” You replied, softly laughing as you brought your attention to the floor.

You stared at your shoes and dusted off your jeans. You felt Ricky stare at you, so you looked up. His lower lip was caught in between his teeth, slowly turning his soft lips red. You couldn’t help but steal glances from his eyes to his lips, noticing Ricky do the same.

“I feel as though I owe you an apology.” He started, moving closer to you. His slim body towered over your own.

“Oh, you do. I expect an amazing gift to make up for this.” You smirked.

One of his hands went to your chin, grabbing it gently as the other went to your waist. Your hands rested on his chest.

“I have an idea.” Ricky whispered before he crashed his lips to yours.

His large hand moved from your chin to your waist. Your arms slid from his chest to around his neck, and curled up into his own curly hair. His grip on your waist tightened and pulled you closer to him, making sure to leave no space in between you. You tugged his hair, making him let out a low groan. You smiled at his reaction. His hands slid down your waist and under your butt, motioning you to jump. You jumped up and wrapped your legs around his waist, and he slammed you up against the door. He began to trail kisses from your lips to your neck, and you tried your best to hold in a moan. You felt the marks he was leaving from your neck to your collarbone. You moved his head back up and brought your lips to his again.

“I knew you had a crush on me.” You breathed out. He bit your bottom lip, making you gasp, and letting his tongue slip through.

Ricky walked back to the piano and sat down, letting you straddle his waist. You latched your lips to his neck, leaving matching marks on his neck. He let out small moans, gripping your hips tighter as you went on. Your hands went to the hem of his shirt, tugging at it so he would take it off.

“Ricky? Y/N? Are you two in here? This door is jammed!” You heard Big Red call out from past the wooden door.

You both quickly pulled away, getting up from his lap and readjusting your shirt. Ricky did the same to his messy hair. He swiftly grabbed his hoodie he left on the piano and tossed it you, motioning at your neck with the numerous marks he left.

“Yeah we’re here! Just push the door.” He replied. He moved one of his hands to the side of his neck, hoping to subtly cover up the red scars you left him.

You managed to put Ricky’s hoodie on before Red opened the door. You took in the scent of his cologne and adjusted the collar more up to hide your bruises.

“Miss Jenn is having a midlife crisis so we’re going to order pizza. Are you guys good with pepperoni and soy cheese?” He wondered.

“Yeah, totally fine.” You answered. Ricky gave a small nod to his friend.

Red was quick to notice you wearing Ricky’s clothing on your body, but didn’t want to question it out of fear for his life. He gave a simple “ok” and left without question, knowing he would just demand answers out of his best friend later.

Ricky turned back to you, scratching the back of his neck. “About what just happened-”

“We can discuss over our next read through together.” You interrupted, giving him a soft smile.

“How about the movies tomorrow? At 8?” He asked hopefully.

You gave him a smile and walked up to him, going to peck his lips only to be pulled back by Ricky for another sweet kiss.

➢➣ ➢➣

You both walked back to your friends who were scattered around the main entrance of the theatre. Everyone noticed you two holding hands, Ricky’s hoodie, and the obvious makeup on his neck. You both acted as though nothing happened.

You were pulled away by Carlos and Ashlyn, noticing Red going for Ricky. “Excuse me, last time I remembered you and Ricky were about to murder each other.” He mumbled quickly.

“What do you mean? We just had a really, really heated argument right now.” You defended, playing with the sleeves of his larger hoodie.

“Is there something on your neck? Oh my god Y/N did you and Ri-”

Miss Jenn bursted through the door happily, “Alright kids, let’s go back to school!”

A/N - well heres another imagine !!! this one was fun to write and more steamy so ur welcome ! im thinking of doing a part 2 to breakdown, so let me know what u think or send me suggestions or requests of what to write next :)) love y’all

[dessarious]

Guilt and Consequences Pt3

Okay, so I am still working on my other stories I just haven’t been able to get much down. I’m working a crap ton of overtime at the moment and I’m just fried when I get home. I’d say hopefully I’ll be more productive on the weekends but right now I’m working Saturdays and and Sundays are becoming catch up on sleep days. So sorry for the delays, but I’ll try to get back into a headspace where I don’t just want to pass out whenever I’m not at work. Oh and I think I got everyone tagged who asked but let me know if I didn’t or you want to be added.

AO3   Beginning   Previous   Next

The silence stretched on and Lila could only sit there. She knew the others were likely staring at her. Wondering what she’d done to make her mother react like that. She just wished she had an answer for them. Even before everything with the schools they’d never been close. Her mother pretty much only talked to her to tell her what she needed to improve. As the atmosphere became more and more uncomfortable Lila finally broke the silence.

“So… would you consider that a yes or a no?” More silence before M. Dupain cleared his throat.

“Marinette why don’t you go with Lila to pack an overnight bag? We’ll get dinner and some treats started. Is there anything you can’t eat or something you’d like to have?” It took her a moment to realize that last part was aimed at her. When she managed to look up his expression matched the gentle tone of his voice and she just got even more confused.

“No sir. I’m not picky.” Her mother rarely made it home to eat with her and even then it was always take out. She’d gotten used to left overs or eating whatever random things were in the house.

“Make sure to pack all your medications as well.” Madam Cheng’s voice sounded a little strange but when Lila managed to look up at her she wasn’t glaring and she didn’t look annoyed. She was definitely more stiff than she’d been before though.

“It’s okay if you don’t want me here anymore. I get it. Even offering is more than most people would have done in your situation.” She still had no idea why they did either. After everything that had happened to their daughter because of her they should be throwing her out, at the very least. The woman’s expression turned to one of motherly concern and it honestly made her more nervous. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had aimed that kind of look at her.

“You’re welcome here, anytime you need somewhere to go, as long as you stop all this lying. There are better ways to deal with your problems.” Lila could only hang her head and mumble another apology. While she agreed that the lying in this situation wasn’t a good idea, it normally didn’t backfire like this and she had tried other things first. Maybe it was different for other people. She heard the woman let out a frustrated sigh. “You two go on, we’ve got to finish closing up the bakery before we start on dinner.” She let Marinette pull her out of her seat and down the stairs. She was still too busy trying to understand what was happening to even consider arguing.

“Did your mom really put you on medication just to keep you in school?” She glanced at Marinette. There was no accusation in the question. More like she just couldn’t understand how someone could do something like that.

“Yes but I don’t take it. Well, except one of the anxiety meds every once in a while when I can’t sleep. As she said on the phone, she thinks I should be responsible for myself so she just assumes I’m actually taking them.” She hadn’t understood at first why her mother would work so hard to get the meds and then not bother to monitor their use. She’d come to the conclusion it was so that when the school finally called about her ‘behavioral’ issues she would have a paper trail to be able to sell them on the fact that Lila was just sick and needed special accommodations. That or she really didn’t think Lila would disobey her on this.

When they got to the apartment building Lila wasn’t really paying attention. She heard something that sounded like a cough but kept walking towards the elevator until Marinette tugged on her sleeve. When she looked over at the other girl Marinette motioned to the side and Lila saw three rather annoyed looking staff members.

“Guests have to be signed in.” She blinked at the woman who spoke, not really processing the words.

“I’m sorry, what?” The woman just rolled her eyes.

“This is a high security building Mlle. Rossi. All guests have to be signed in.” Oh, right. She vaguely remembered something about that from when they’d first moved in. She just had never actually brought someone home before.

“Sorry, I forgot. Umm… how exactly do I do that?” The woman just looked exasperated now, but the man behind the desk offered a smile and motioned them over. There was a clipboard on the desk and he handed her a pen.

“You just need to put your name, apartment number, and your guests name.” He pointed to each column in turn . She filled them out as he asked and handed the pen back. “Thank you Mlle. Rossi, have a nice day.”

“Thank you, you as well.” She could still see the disapproving look on the woman’s face as they continued to the elevator and couldn’t help but wonder how she still had a job if this was how she normally treated tennants. Personally she couldn’t remember any of the staff and didn’t really interact with them. Generally once she was in the building it was a habit to keep her head down and get to her room as quickly as possible. She’d found that the less interaction she had with people the fewer things her mother had to lecture her about. Her social interactions were always lacking in some way and she could never be certain what her mother would latch onto.

When they entered the apartment Lila noticed Marinette frowning as she looked around. She couldn’t really blame her after seeing her house. The apartment was clean bordering on sterile due to the service her mother had come in daily. There weren’t any personal touches either. No pictures, no nicknacks, nothing that said people actually lived here. She didn’t really think about it. It had been this way as long as she could remember.

“Your place is nice…” Lila actually grinned as she watched Marinette try to come up with something good to say about it. “Lot’s of natural light.” Lila let out a snort of amusement. The girl was the essence of cheerful and that was all she could come up with. It was a bit sad really.

“My room’s this way.” When they entered Marinette perked up immediately. Lila could only assume it was due to all the pictures on the walls since it was the only real difference between here and the rest of the house.

“Wow, these are amazing! Do you collect them?”

“They’re not that good. Just pictures I’ve taken to remember where I’ve been.” She liked taking pictures, especially of nature. She found it soothing and having something to look back on made her feel a little less disconnected. Marinette was staring at her in what looked like awe.

“You took all these?” Lila just nodded. “These are amazing! I’ve seen professional photographers whose work doesn’t look this good.” Even knowing Marinette was just being nice, Lila couldn’t help but bask in the complement for a moment. But only for a moment.

“So what exactly should I be packing? I’ve never done the whole sleepover thing before.” Suddenly Marinette was looking at her like she’d kicked a puppy and she couldn’t figure out why.

“You’ve never had a sleepover? Ever?” Lila just shook her head. Wasn’t that what she’d just said? “Oh my gosh! We have so much to make up for. Obscene amounts of junk food and games and movies and makeovers and ghost stories and-” She just kept going. Lila had no idea what she was rambling about and it didn’t answer her question at all. Marinette finally paused to take a breath and she was able to break in.

“Okay, but what should I actually pack?” Marinette paused to think it over. The expression on her face seemed far too serious for such a common question.

“Your most comfy pajamas, whatever you want to wear tomorrow, and a toothbrush. I’ll take care of everything else.” Well that sounded slightly ominous. Regardless, she packed what she was told along with all her medications. Dumping those in the bag got a strange look from Marinette, but she wasn’t certain why. Maybe it was just how many there were. In less than ten minutes they were back out on the street, headed towards the bakery.

“Lila!”

“Shit.” She said the word under her breath as she looked behind her. Of course it would be Alya. They’d been on the street less than five minutes, only her luck could be that bad. She tried to use her body to block Marinette but she wasn’t quick enough. Alya’s expresion turned sour as she tried to reach around Lila.

“I thought we made it clear that we wouldn’t tolerate you bullying Lila anymore!” Lila grabbed the girls wrist before she could grab or slap Marinette. That stunned her enough to let Marinette get some space.

“You touch her again I’ll break the offending appendage.” Lila didn’t recognize her own voice in that deep threatening tone, but Alya just rolled her eyes.

“This is why we didn’t tell you what we were doing. You’re too nice and let people like her get away with anything.” She wanted so badly to just slap some sense into the girl but honestly she didn’t think it would work.

“I’m not nice, and you’ll find out exactly how not nice if you don’t stop harassing Marinette.”

“But if we don’t do something she’ll just keep bullying you!” Lila could only sigh. How many times was she going to have to have this conversation.

“Marinette is not now, nor has she ever bullied me. Which I already told you.” Alya let out a patient sigh, like she was explaining something simple to a small child. Yeah, someone was going to get hit before this conversation was over.

“She’s constantly calling you a liar and trying to turn everyone against you. Why would she do that?” Yep, the kindergarten teacher tone was definitely a good way to piss her off. Lila, of course, defaulted to sarcasm.

“Oh gee, I don’t know maybe because I was lying?” Alya looked like she was about to argue but Lila just kept going. “If you had bothered to look up literally anything I said you would know that.”

“An absence of proof is not proof of absence.” It took a minute for the words to penetrate as Lila was just getting even more annoyed by Alya’s self righteous tone but when they did she had to stop herself from lunging at her.

“Are you saying that you looked up my claims, found absolutely no proof and still took my word over Marinette’s?” Her voice was soft, more because her throat felt like it was closed in rage than anything else.

“There wasn’t any proof that you were lying either.” Alya’s smug tone finally snapped something inside her.

“Have you lost your damn mind?! Jagged stone has said in multiple interviews that he doesn’t even like cats. And in what universe would my mother’s PR team not have it in the news that I do charity work? She’s a public figure Alya, anything that can make her look good would have press releases for days. That in and of itself proves that I was lying.” The girl seemed to ponder this for a moment before she sent a glare to Marinette.

“What did you threaten her with to make her agree with you?”  Knowing that she’d been right about who Alya would blame for this was a small consolation.

“Lila you need to calm down.” Marinette’s voice was soft, soothing even but she was in no mood to pay attention.

“I will not calm down! This wanna be reporter couldn’t find the truth if she fell into a river of it. You should consider a career in fiction by the way since anyone with journalistic integrity will simply laugh you out the door.” Alya was still glaring at Marinette, like all this was her fault. What was wrong with people? Marinette actually grabbed her arms and forced Lila to face her.

“Please. You really need to calm down. Just breathe with me okay? You don’t want to get Akumatized again.” Those words acted like ice water. Yes, this was beyond stupid, but it wasn’t worth that. She calmed her breathing as Marinette asked but made sure to keep a line of sight on Alya as well. There was no telling what someone like her would do at this point.

“We should head back to your house, your parents will start to worry.” She had no idea if that was true or not but she hoped it would get Alya to back off. Pretty much everyone agreed that Marinette’s parents were great people, but they were also scared shitless at the thought of pissing them off. After their talk earlier she understood why. It did the trick too. Alya mumbled something about finding out what kind of dirt Marinette had on her so Lila could stop pretending she’d been lying as she left at a brisk walk. She’d read about willful ignorance but she’d never expected to encounter it to this degree. She was starting to hope it did have something to do with Hawkmoth, but considering some of the things people were willing to believe she wasn’t very optimistic.

AO3   Beginning   Previous    Next

Ko-Fi

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[psychedellic-phase]

Fifteen (pt 3)

A/N: Thank you so much for the support so far! This is the first fic I’ve posted anywhere in a long time. I’m totally down to do any requests! There are some season 6 spoilers in this part so SPOILER Alert!! xoxo R

tw: none! just more fluffiness

word count: 2444

(part 1) (part 2) 

masterlist

The third envelope, which was labeled #2, was much thicker than the first two. Spencer held it in his hands for a while, just tracing over where you wrote #2. He always made fun of you for writing it like a kindergarten teacher. 

“Adults make a two with the loop at the bottom,” He would joke any time you had to write it. 

“Good thing I’m not an adult,” You’d reply. 

He smiled at the memory. That’s one of the reasons he fell in love with you. You were so incredibly intelligent but also so clueless at the same time. You were definitely book smart. But common knowledge and sense? Not much of that in your pretty head. He liked that though; it meant you didn’t take yourself too seriously. You were down to Earth and kept him there with you, a trait he had to learn as he grew older. He didn’t even realize you taught him so much; he was always too busy trying to teach you. 

Ripping open #2 he started to read, a warm fuzzy feeling filling his chest: 

“Item 2 is a ticket to the Korean Film festival we went to together. So take it out and admire how bent and worn it is. I was so nervous that day I folded it into tiny pieces in my pocket just so my hands had something to do.”

He took it out of the plastic bag you put it in. It really was bent and worn, so much so you could barely read the name and date, July 7. 

“That was our first official date, though we had a lot of time to bond between November 17 and that day. Emily died. Well, not really, but we thought she did. We’d take turns crying on the other’s shoulder. Some days I’d show up at yours and you’d immediately know that I just needed you to be strong for me. I’d often return the favor. We were still just friends then, but our pain bonded us in ways no one else really understood. We get each other, Spence, or at one point in our lives we did. I’m not so sure I understand you anymore, at least not like I used to.  Sometimes I’d come over and we wouldn’t cry. You’d teach me chess and card games. But usually we would cry, and that was okay. 

That was the start of our platonic sleepovers. Do you remember our first one? The night I cried myself to sleep on your couch and instead of kicking me out you put a blanket over me. You thought I was out cold, but I felt you tuck it around me, your hands lingering for a second too long. For the next few weeks we did that when we didn’t have cases. We’d talk about Em and life and everything and cry, and one of us would crash on the other’s couch. Then, if Hotch didn’t send the bat signal for us, we’d get coffee and pancakes the following morning at IHOP. It became a sweet tradition, born out of one of the darkest times in my life. You always took me at my most vulnerable, loved me, and kept me safe. I don’t think I ever really thanked you for that. So, thank you. 

Everyone else didn’t think they were platonic. I mean if I were them I wouldn’t have thought we were ‘just friends’ either. The fact that we started carpooling together after our sleepovers probably didn’t help our case. I remember one time I brought you to work with me after an IHOP blueberry pancake breakfast. Rossi ran into us in the elevator and commented that you had on the same exact suit as the day before and that we had been coming to work together a lot lately. We both blushed profusely; we knew what his side eye meant.  It’s funny how everyone else knew we loved each other except us. Some profilers we are. 

Okay so back to the ticket. Emily’s loss made me look at life differently. Before she died, I confided in her how I felt. She’s the closest thing to a best friend I ever had. Being her usual supportive self, she told me to go for it. That you felt the same about me. That we’d be perfect for each other. That you adored me. I desperately wanted her to be right, so I selfishly believed her. 

When she left, I realized how quickly we can lose each other. And her support of us told me what I needed to do. In some weird way it felt like I was doing her justice by pursuing you. I decided I wasn’t going to wait and risk losing you too. So I bought tickets to the Korean film festival in Georgetown you talked about for weeks, even though I know zero Korean. I walked up to you and flashed two tickets. The look on your face is one I’ll never forget. Your eyes lit up and you smiled bigger than I had seen in months. You (thankfully) agreed to go with me. 

“I didn’t know you knew Korean,” You said as I drove us there. (I sneakily put on Stacy’s Mom then too, but I don’t think you realized)”

He chuckled. He most definitely did notice that, but what you didn’t notice was how he looked at you as you mumbled the lyrics to yourself. It was dusk and the street lights illuminated your face just so. It occurred to him then that he’d never seen anyone more beautiful than you in that moment, and probably never would again. 

Spencer put the ticket and letter down on the table and got up to pace again. He knows exactly how this story ends; he wrote it with you. And in this story he’s the villain. 

His stomach twisted up in knots. He rushed back to the table to grab the letter, but his eyes were too bleary with tears to read any of the words. Truthfully, he didn’t want to read them. He wasn’t ready to relive it yet. He wasn’t ready to feel it, because up until now he still got to see you and talk to you. He was able to protect you, just like he had all those nights when you cried in his arms. 

He blinked forcefully a few times, forcing his vision to clear enough to keep going.  

“I told you I didn’t know Korean. All I know is enough Spanish to get myself through cases. You smiled at that. 

“Then why did you want to come?” You asked me. 

“Because you wanted to come.” My answer was honest. I love so many things I never thought I would because of you, Spence. You didn’t answer me; the smile on your face was answer enough. Naturally, I got even more nervous. 

“So since there are no subtitles will you translate for me as it happens?” I asked; you nodded. 

We were strolling around the park the festival was at. It was warm out but you still had on pants and a dress shirt. I don’t know how you did that. I had on a dress and was still sweating. We got there early and were waiting for the first movie to start. 

“You know, (Y/N), 1.2 million Americans speak Korean. Korean culture is becoming a vibrant subculture in America. The success of things like anime, Korean Dramas and Korean pop music are just going to add to that number.”

That’s when I looked at you. Your hair had gotten a little longer, but it was cute. Looking back, every hair you’ve ever had was cute. I miss running my hands through it to mess it up. Your eyes were trained on the people milling around us, and mine were on you. I love when you spew out stats. Contrary to popular belief, smart IS sexy. But anyways, your eyes looked so brown and reflected the lights so beautifully. I’ll miss staring into them and getting lost. I once told you I never liked the color brown until I saw your eyes. That’s still true. 

“But like 50 million speak Spanish. So I think my tenth grade skills are more applicable,” I joked. 

“It’s actually 41 million and I agree. Spanish is a very important language to know. But only a tenth grade level? Say something in Spanish.”

“Tú y yo va a ver una película,” I said in the worst Spanish accent ever. You laughed and said some beautiful Korean like it was nothing. I grabbed your hand. You flinched and looked at me confused. I gave it a reassuring squeeze and ran my thumb across the parts of your hand I could reach. That’s when you realized this was a “date” date and not a friend date. I could almost immediately see the red creep up your cheeks. 

We found a place to sit and the movie started. It was called The Housemaid. And true to your word you translated the whole thing for me, much to the dismay of everyone around us. I found myself nestled into your side with your arm around me. You were whispering everything in my ear. Your breath tickled my neck and sent a chill down my spine. Truthfully, I missed half of what you said because I was too focused on not losing my shit. Here you were, the guy I was in love with, arm around me whispering sweet foreign words in my ear. Anyone would melt instantly. 

We got through two and a half movies that night. I don’t remember the other two—��

“Sisters on the Road and A Frozen Flower!” Spencer spoke out loud then, as if you could hear him. When he realized you definitely couldn’t hear him because you were in Seattle, and definitely not in his apartment, he groaned and kept reading. 

“We had already watched like four hours of movies and I was getting hungry. So, we stopped and got ice cream. I scolded you for getting a large when we both know you can’t have dairy, to which you just shrugged and said, “Dairy allergies are the most common in the world. 65% of the population has issues with lactose. You can’t expect 4,485,000,000 people to not eat ice cream, especially when it’s delicious.” 

I rolled my eyes, “Well don’t come crying to me when your tummy hurts later.”

“Oh I most definitely will be coming and crying to you.”

We walked like that for a while, hand in hand, until the chill of the night got to us. We made our way back to my car and you opened the door for me like a gentleman. I wanted to invite you back to my place, but I thought that might give the wrong impression for a first date. So instead I drove you home and you didn’t invite me in. I was a little hurt, honestly. I have been in your apartment more times than I can count, so what was one more? It’s okay though. You made up for it. Remember? 

We were sitting on the side of the street and you didn’t get out of the car yet. The windows were down and the radio was off. We listened to the sound of crickets and passing cars as we enjoyed each other’s company in a different way than we ever had before. 

“It’s almost midnight, get some sleep. Your brain needs rest after all that translating.” 

“Your brain doesn’t rest when you sleep, your body does,” You said and turned to me. Our faces were probably only six inches apart. Your breath was hot on my cheeks and you kept doing that damn tongue thing. 

“But you need some sleep (Y/N). You don’t sleep well.”

“I sleep well on your couch,” I said and you smiled. The space between us had gotten much much smaller. 

I put my hand on your cheek and felt the slight stubble there. You made the first move Spence. All I did was hold your face, you’re the one who closed the gap. 

That was one of the best kisses of my life. It lasted maybe ten seconds, but it was ten seconds that took years to get to. It was all that longing and pining and pent up feelings released at once. Nothing in the world is as special as kissing you, Spencer Reid. 

That next Monday we got shit from the team. Garcia is such a blabbermouth. Derek and Rossi made fun of us like middle schoolers. Hotch gave us that big bad ‘one of you will have to leave speech’. Deep down they were all happy for us. We all needed something to be happy about. And we were happy Spence, so so happy. Until we weren’t. 

So take this bent up ticket and admire it again before placing the memory of our first date on a shelf in the corner of your mind that will get dusty. I hope someday you’ll brush it off and relive it. 

There’s a Korean proverb I learned from you, that means: ‘At the end of hardship comes happiness.’ 

I hope that’s true.

xo,

YN”

Spencer put the letter down and picked up the ticket. He walked across the living room to a corkboard on the wall. There he took a pushpin and fastened the ticket to the board. It was surrounded by pictures of everyone he loves. Group pictures, his mom, Henry, pictures of the two of you. But in the center of it all was that ticket that had been so bent up because of how nervous you were for your date. He never told you how nervous he was then too. He had to make sure he wasn’t stuttering through the translations. Your close proximity to him, the smell of your perfume, and warmth of your body pressed against him made it hard to think. He held your hand so tightly that night because he thought that maybe you wouldn’t notice how badly they were shaking. He only got up the nerve to kiss you because when you weren’t looking he texted Derek, and he told him he had to. He remembered how his heart felt like it was leaping out of his chest when he closed the gap, how you sighed into him, how you sucked on his lower lip ever so slightly. You were right, nothing is quite like kissing the love of your life. It’s like every kiss you ever had before that kiss, the kiss, didn’t count. It’s the only kiss that matters. 

He admired the ticket one last time, before reaching in to grab envelope #3. 

Part 4!

tags: @l0ve-0f-my-life​

- if you would like to be added to the tag list just let me know! 

[mrs-nate-humphrey]

aight aight, real shit; let's say you got the chance to rewrite the entirety of gossip girl exactly how you want. make a brief description of what would happen in each season. (you can decide whether there's a fourth season or not)

oh i LOVE this ask, and i am so flattered to be asked this, haha. i have SO many thoughts, i’ve been thinking about this non-stop, but i’ll try to be as brief as possible. also, disclaimer, i don’t remember all the seasons equally clearly. like i barely remember s2. haha, whoops.

season 1: i love this season as is, for the most part. i think the tone of it was actually very serious and involved? like the show was actively trying not to be frivolous with heavy topics, and the way we were getting to see the characters seemed like they were trying to bring out character depth and the complexities of their lives in very deliberate ways. nate’s whole thing with his parents gets so much focus, and it’s not something the show glorifies, it’s something that is meant to make you uncomfortable and worried for him. 

i would have nate be less of a dudebro, jenny & nate’s friendship being a little more solid, dan being a little more involved in jenny’s problems + helping her find her space, vanessa/nate to happen earlier - after nate breaks up w/ blair and realises she looks happier, i would have him not try and get back with her (lol, dude, the fact that she’s happy after breaking up with you means you probably shouldn’t be dating her.) more exploration of eric’s mental health. more dan and blair friendship. i would keep chair the way it is this season. i would not have a derena breakup - i’d have them take a break after the georgina reveal and get back together during the summer after talking about it and deciding to be more honest & open with each other. and, what the hell, i would have lily not blame serena (???) for being taken advantage of in the whole pete fairman situation. serena wasn’t sober, she was 16, that dude was in his 30s, georgina was taping her w/o her consent. how is any of this serena’s fault??? i hate lily’s reaction so much.

season 2: i... don’t remember enough of this season, sadly. it’s been too long since i watched it. i would majorly change jenny’s arc here, though. eleanor stealing her dress was majorly, majorly fucked up, and i think jenny should’ve done something then and there. also the whole thing with ‘lily is a mother to chuck’.... i would’ve loved it if lily had been like that to jenny. the girl needed it, and lily would’ve actually been able to help jenny establish connections in the professional world and whatnot. i think jenny should’ve transferred out of constance - not necessarily homeschooling maybe, but gone somewhere else. unlike dan, she didn’t even want to get into an ivy, she wanted to make it big as a designer. so. that. 

oh nate my love. i’d get this trainwreck of a boy some therapy. while i hate that the catherine thing happened, things like that do happen all the time, and i’d be interested in sort of handling the aftermath of it in a responsible way. i would not have... a lot of serena’s arc and decisions (from what i can remember) were really random in this season. i’d have her break up with dan at some point. and vanessa would need a new subject for her short film, and she’d choose serena.

nate doesn’t really date anyone, this season. but he and jenny open up to each other abt having gay crushes on people who treat you like shit - jenny’s thing with agnes - nate rescues her when they’re taking those pictures in her flat and let’s say she doesn’t go back to agnes. instead of kissing her, nate talks to her instead, and tells her about carter, tells her about chuck. and jenny talks about her feelings for blair, her feelings for agnes. and both of them sort of go... “it sucks, but all we can do is try not to become the kind of people we hate, right?”

dan pines for nate. majorly. massively. obviously. i think the only person who really notices is blair, and this would lead to new hijinks and shenanigans. also!! i do not want chair in s2. maybe it can go there for a bit but definitely not to the extent in canon. i want blair to have the same moment of being unable to deny her cruelty / needing to be accountable that she did in that ‘age of dissonance’ play. and. this sounds fucky but i want the dan/rachel stuff to stay as it is, and later, in s4, for dan & serena to talk about rachel & ben respectively and be like ‘hey, this was a fucked up thing to happen to us, wasn’t it?’ 

i would also like to get to know blair’s “minions” better as people. i mean. they all seemed hella fascinating to me, and the show’s decision to make them superficial and unidimensional was very depressing.

season 3: hot garbage, throw canon away. when chuck goes away to paris or wherever, let him not come back. goodbye, dude! dan, blair & vanessa friendship at nyu is so, so important to me. also im losing my mind always at how vanessa and serena catch dan on that walk of shame and they’re both like ‘college is a time for experimentation!��� and nobody does anything even slightly bisexual (unless you count that threesome later, which, blah.) a serenessa / date dynamic in college would’ve been great. dan transferring to columbia like blair does and rooming with nate and just, the gayness of it all. dan & blair become really, really close, and d&b&v watch movies + go to art exhibits together and are all SO DAMN PRETENTIOUS. serena finds it sexy, nate finds it terrifying. 

the william stuff would be interesting if he were actually held accountable. like that man has no right being a doctor, and medical malpractice needs to be brought up. and jenny’s whole arc this season makes me so sad. i think it would’ve been interesting if she’d been a ‘queen’ and ruled alongside eric, and just, the two of them forcing people to be nice, sort of like they try to do with people who are mean to nelly in s2 i think it is? but also.. jenny out of constance is very good, and i think i mentioned that earlier, haha, whoops.

season 4 : serenessa breakup, for whatever reason, probably to do with the william fuckery, because i think vanessa would react in similar ways to nate (”serena, i know he’s your dad, but we have to do the right thing” / “it still wasn’t your call to make” / “he’s a certified doctor, serena, a man like that has no right -” / “god vanessa, you really don’t get it, do you?” ). uhhh i would actually... if i had to choose i would honestly go blairnessa >>>>> dair. i love how blair & vanessa can keep each other on their toes and hold each other accountable. like? blair’s classist or racist and dan’s just like, *smiles*. vanessa would actively be like ‘hey, stop that.’ (this is one of the few actual criticisms i have about d/b as a relationship, RIP.) 

(edited to add: yeah, i think blairnessa WOULD be a sustainable relationship, more abt that here! )

yes to the milo arc, but dan gets to keep milo (his friends threaten georgina and go all ‘you made him sign the certificate. don’t make us take you to court’ because i love these morally grey assholes but also because g DID trick dan into thinking milo was his and dan was ready to reshape his whole life around that kid which is more than georgina was willing to do. plus endgame: jack/georgina are not parents i want milo to have.) i would also have more of a rufus & dan fallout over the milo thing. i think rufus would be really nasty about it all tbh.

the dair arc for blair and vanessa! let the juliet stuff happen, but let it be less awful + let it be seen as Bad + let serena get help & not forgive her for it. let serena NOT date ben after, what the hell. i want d&s to talk about their shared feelings for high school teachers and to realise, in retrospect, as adults, that what happened was crossing lines. let blair and vanessa suddenly drop dan and do the movies + galleries stuff on their own. and dan’s like ??? but he’s busy being a parent with nate supporting him. dan’s drama is very much parenting things. there would be some nonsense involving nate’s family pushing back, because ‘we stood by while you dated him, nate, we thought it was a phase. but raising a child with another man? this is unacceptable.’ i would like nate to get disowned by the family, and need to find his own feet. and to get a REAL SHOT AT HAPPINESS away from that terrible environment.

season 5: i want this to be a good serena season. let her find her calling doing creative things. let her and carter travel the world. let her just be whoever she wants to be. let her and vanessa patch their friendship up. let her have an open relationship with carter, let her have a lot of sex with a lot of random people and not feel guilty about it. let her really really blossom. i want more eric! maybe he’s in london with jenny, and she’s working on her fashion stuff, and he’s realising that he really wants to be a counsellor. 

some time-skips, maybe. i really want to see dan’s whole thing of being a parent. sending milo to kindergarten and spending the whole time milo’s gone on edge and anxious about everything that could go wrong, while nate comforts him. let nate try to get a job because he no longer has a trust fund, and navigate everything that comes with that. let vanessa be there for him. why the fuck am i phrasing my sentences like this - can you tell that i studied physics once?? oh well.

blair & vanessa handling a lot of things. vanessa meeting harold!! vanessa’s parents being disapproving of blair, but ruby standing up for her. blair & vanessa planning their future properly. blair & vanessa babysitting milo and talking about kids. 

and there can be drama too, there should always be drama. but i would like wholesome stuff at the centre of it too, you know? the ivy/lola nonsense can go on in the background, i don’t actually care that much. as long as ivy doesn’t go around fucking people’s fathers for no understandable or discernable reason, i don’t really care lkdhlfdkhg. (it was just so inexplicable and so random!)

season 6: uh, i don’t know. this was a bad season for everyone in canon, except chuck. i would throw it all away. i would actually love if we had pre-series rufly instead: every time those two bring up their past together i’m like 👀 because it sounds like a dream. or focus entirely on jenny and eric and their life. i am obsessed with jenny and eric being... sort of queerplatonic, sort of like, best friends. there’s no romance and no sex between them (eric’s canonically gay, and jenny’s a lesbian because i said so) but i think the way jenny and eric are is very, very life partners in a way that isn’t romantic OR sexual. so they’d have a little place together and would support each other. and just. what are they up to now? also. kati, iz, penelope, hazel, nelly... what r they doing now? one of the few things i actually liked about s6 as it was was that nelly was that reporter and that she’d found her people in yale. nelly yuki getting a happy and fulfilling ending and being a successful woman was so good and we actually got a little bit of that. i’d like more of that, for the rest of the girls, you know?

[xfangheartx]

Beautiful Memories

Now, I know what you people are thinking: a Mother’s Day fic on Father’s Day? I was meant to put this up last month, but I got stuck on it for a while. I’ll probably put the Father’s Day fic up tomorrow.

Tagging: @keichanz​ @shinidamachu​ @clearwillow​ @hnnwnchstr​ @cstormsinukagblog​ @desiree239​ @lavendertwilight89​ @mozart-the-meerkitten​ @inusgirl​ and if I’m forgetting anyone, sorry. ^^;

 It was a quiet Sunday morning in May. The sun was just barely beginning to rise and the sky was turning a bright orange color as dawn approached...and inside the Higurashi-Taisho household, as Kagome slept soundly in her bedroom, Inuyasha smiled as he quietly approached her, holding a tray of toaster waffles, tamagoyaki, and a glass of orange juice. Following after him were their five children and the family dog with Ichiro holding the young twins and softly shushing his younger siblings, who were trying to stifle their excited giggling.

 "Kagome...!" Inuyasha whispered, causing Kagome to moan in her sleep. "Kagome, wake up...!"

 "Hmm..." Kagome hummed as she raised her head up with a smile as warm as the sunrise, sleepily opening her brown eyes. "Hey...good morning."

 "Happy Mother's Day!" Inuyasha and the kids exclaimed, and almost instantly Kagome lit up with a delighted gasp.

 "Oh, you guys!" Kagome said as Inuyasha put the tray down in front of her. "Breakfast in bed for me?"

 "Ah, but there's more!" Inuyasha added before he turned to the kids, who all walked up and held up something wrapped in sparkly pink, rose-patterned paper with a red ribbon on top of it.

 "Oh, what's this?" Kagome asked as she tore off the paper, revealing a purple book with the words "Thank You, Mom!" in golden letters, and it was decorated with fake flowers and plastic rhinestones.

 "It's a scrapbook!" Yamako said as he came to his mother's side.

 "It was Ichi's idea!" Sanka added.

 "Dad helped, too," Ichiro pointed. "Just sayin'."

 "Oh, you kids," Kagome smiled as she opened the book, revealing several pictures of her lying in a hospital bed, holding an infant with little puppy ears to her side with a tired but happy smile creasing her lips. "Oh, I remember this. This is when I gave birth to Ichiro."

 "Yeah...what a day that was, huh?" Inuyasha asked. "I was sitting in the waiting room all damn day."

 "It was only 2-and-a-half hours, Inuyasha," Kagome pointed out.

 "Well, it felt like a whole day!" Inuyasha argued, causing his kids to laugh.

 Kagome smiled before she turned the page, revealing more pictures, but the one that caught her eye most was where she was standing in front of a bush in the park, giving an embarrassed smile to the camera while holding 5-year-old Ichiro underneath his armpits...and his lower half was hidden by the shrubbery.

 "Oh, man, I remember that one," Ichiro said, just as embarrassed as his mother was in the photo. "We were barbecuing at the park when I had to use the bathroom."

 "Yeah, but the bathrooms were full," Inuyasha began, "and since I couldn't leave the steaks alone, your mother had to take you to pee in front of a bush, instead. It was so funny, I couldn't help taking a picture!"

 "I really had to think fast on that one," Kagome said with a humorous grin. "It was either that or Ichiro went home with wet pants...then we'd all be upset."

 "Eww~!" Yamako and Sanka grimaced, which caused their older brother to sneer at them.

 "Oh, ha-ha," Ichiro said, sarcastically.

 Kagome turned the page, again, this time showing herself, holding 6-year-old Ichiro along with a baby boy with white hair, puppy ears with the left ear flopping over, and golden and brown eyes. The moment she saw it, her eyes started softening.

 "Aww, I know this one," she said. "This was about a couple of weeks after Yama was born."

 "Yeah, and I was about to run away from home," said Ichiro.

 "You were gonna run away?" Yamako asked. "I didn't know that."

 "How could you know?" asked Ichiro. "You were too young to remember."

 "When you were a baby, Yama, your mother and I were a little...preoccupied," said Inuyasha. "A little too preoccupied."

 "Yeah, Mom and Dad kinda ignored me for a while," said Ichiro, "and I was about to pack up all my things and go and live with Tsukihime."

 "What made you change your mind?" Sanka asked.

 "Well...Mom made it easier for me to stay," said Ichiro. "She made me my favorite dinner and then we started watching my favorite movie...and the next thing I knew, I forgot why I was so mad."

 "And that's when I told you that even though having a new baby wouldn't be easy, Yamako was gonna need his big brother," Kagome added. "Remember that, Ichi?"

 "Yeah," Ichiro said. "It really helped put my mind at ease."

 "Well, Ichi, it's just like I said," Kagome began, "when a family gets bigger, our hearts get bigger, too."

 "So there's plenty of love for everyone," Inuyasha added.

 "And there still is," Kagome added before she kissed her oldest son's cheek, causing him to chuckle as he wiped it away.

 "Mom, c'mon," he said.

 "Hey, look at this one!" said Sanka as she pointed at another photo, this one showing Kagome as she held a baby girl with a full head of raven black hair with two floppy little puppy ears as she held a pink kitty plushie in her fingers. "It's me!"

 "That's right, San!" Kagome exclaimed. "It's you, the day you were born!"

 "I didn't act half as jealous as I did when Yama was born," Ichiro said.

 "You were still pretty jealous, though," Inuyasha added, causing his eldest son to groan while Kagome flipped through another page in the book, and this time, it showed a picture of Kagome giving little Ichiro and a little Akita puppy a bath at the same time.

 "Aww, this is when your dad brought Riki home for your birthday, Ichi," Kagome smiled.

 "Yeah, that was a fun day," Ichiro smiled while Riki barked and licked his face, causing him to laugh as he gently eased the excited Akita back down on the floor and scratching his behind his ears, just as Kagome turned another page in the scrapbook, showing her wearing one of her old summer kimonos while pushing baby Sanka in her stroller while Ichiro walked beside her with Riki excitedly pulling at his leash while fireworks went off in the sky.

 "And this was during the festival," said Kagome.

 "Wait...where was Daddy?" Sanka asked.

 "I was there, it's just that I was the one taking the picture," Inuyasha said.

 "And where was I?" Yamako asked.

 "I was holding you while trying to take a picture," said Inuyasha.

 "Oh, yeah, you were crying your eyes out and Dad was trying to calm you down," said Ichiro.

 "Why was I crying?" Yamako asked with a tilt of his head.

 "Because I wasn't holding you," Kagome answered, causing everyone in the room to laugh as she turned the page once more, this time showing Kagome hugging Ichiro, almost 9 at the time, as he held up a golden trophy.

 "That was when I won the 4th-grade basketball game!" Ichiro exclaimed.

 "I was so proud of you," Kagome said as a warm smile appeared on her face.

 "I was proud of myself, too...and embarrassed," Ichiro added, "but mostly proud."

 "Yeah, I remember Mom rushing down from the bleachers to hug Ichiro and he looked really red after that!" Yamako added with a giggle while Ichiro groaned.

 "And then we went out for ice cream after that to celebrate," said Inuyasha while Kagome turned another page, and this one showed her lying on a futon...holding two little bundles, her face flushed and exhausted.

 "Aww, and here's when I gave birth to the twins," Kagome cooed.

 "Oh, yeah, I remember that day!" Sanka said. "We were visiting Grandma Atsuko!"

 "Yeah, but then Mom's water broke and Dad couldn't drive her to the hospital because we were too far away," Ichiro added.

 "Yeah, so we had to help your mother give birth at your grandma's house, instead," Inuyasha pointed out.

 "Mom was gonna try and drive me to the hospital herself," said Kagome before she took Izayoi and Usagi, "but you two weren't very patient babies."

 The twins both giggled and cooed as their mother gave them both a kiss on the top of their heads, and Inuyasha soon did the same before Kagome turned the page, again, this time showing Ichiro standing beside his mother while wearing his middle school uniform, and following that were pictures of Yamako and Sanka about to enter their school with Kagome holding their hands.

 "That's me on my first day of middle school," Ichiro said.

 "And my first day of first grade!" Yamako piped. "And San when she started kindergarten!"

 "I was really nervous that day," said Sanka, "but Mommy made me feel better about going!"

 "Because I made sure that you went to a good school with a good teacher," said Kagome.

 "Yeah! And I made some new friends, too!" added Sanka.

 As Kagome turned the page, she smiled as she saw another photo...this time showing all her children at their current ages and Riki in the same picture, smiling at the camera while holding a paper banner that said "WE LOVE YOU, MOM" in colorful letters...and upon seeing it, Kagome bit her lip as she felt her eyes beginning to well up, and she sniffled as she wiped the forming tears away.

 "Oh...you kids," Kagome whispered as she looked at them.

 "We know it can be a little...hectic, looking after five of us," Ichiro said. "And yeah...we don't make your job any easier, at times."

 "...Being a mother isn't meant to be easy," Kagome said, "but all the hard work your father and I put into raising all five of you...it's certainly worth it." She then looked at the scrapbook. "And seeing all these pictures...reminds me just how much I love being your mom."

 "We love you, Mommy," said Sanka.

 "Thanks for always being there for us, Mom," Yamako added.

 "Luboo, Mommy!" Izayoi and Usagi chimed in with their baby talk.

 "And I love you, too, Kagome," Inuyasha said as he gave his wife a loving kiss on the lips. "You didn't just bless me with your presence...you blessed us with five beautiful children."

 "...I love you guys, too," Kagome smiled. "This is the best Mother's Day I've ever had."

 Soon, Ichiro, Yamako, Sanka, Izayoi, and Usagi all climbed onto the bed and hugged their mother. Even Riki wasn't one to be left out, for he soon jumped up and licked Kagome's face, causing her to laugh as she scratched at his neck...but then, she gasped as a sudden realization.

 "Oh, that reminds me!" Kagome exclaimed. "Ichi, can you hand me my phone?"

 "Yeah, here you go," Ichiro said as he handed his mother her phone.

XXX

 Atsuko Higurashi hummed a little tuneless song to herself as she just finished washing up the dishes...which weren't many since it was just her in the house. As she prepared to go into the living room to read her book, she suddenly stopped as she heard her tablet ringing, causing her to turn around as she walked up to the counter.

 "Who could that be?" she asked as she swiped her finger on the screen, just as her son had taught her...and soon, her daughter's face appeared, along with her husband and their five children.

 "Hi, Mom!" Kagome greeted.

 "Hey, Ma," Inuyasha grinned.

 "Hi, Grandma!" the kids exclaimed while Riki barked and panted happily.

 "Oh, hi, Kagome, Inuyasha, kids!" Atsuko said.

 "We wanted to wish you..." Kagome started.

 "A happy Mother's Day!" she and her family declared.

 "Thanks for everything you've done for me," Kagome said. "I love you so much, Mom."

 Atsuko smiled warmly, feeling her heart swell and her eyes well up with loving tears.

 "...I love you, too, Kagome," she said. "Happy Mother's Day."

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

death bed (coffee for your head) (Peter Parker's iPod, Part 8.)

Description: Blip was hard. Dating MJ was a pleasure in Parker’s life, so it was even harder when she told him that things aren’t working as she anticipated - one month before college. Although they remained friends. But Peter isn’t too sure if he can handle liking yet another girl.

Part Summary: The line between Peter being Peter and Peter being your Speedy Gonzales starts to get more thin and blurry for Peter when he’s around you. And with that a realization starts to come up in his head - shouldn’t he just told you? Because that situation was getting f-up with each passing minute.

A/N: Actually, this the most suiting song for Peter I’ve heard so far. I can just imagine him sitting on the rooftop, dressed as Peter as he looks down and takes photos of romantic sunsets and nature. 

Word count: 2.8 K

Tagging: @fanboyswhereare-you, @lukesbabylon, @eridanuswave​

Master list: H E R E

Just as Peter closed the window to his room quietly, not waking May up, the rain behind started pouring down and one of the big spring thunders came by. But the boy didn't care about the bolts of lightenings hitting the city beside him - he was slowly sliding down the wall as he smiled dreamily with his eyes closed. Peter kissed you. And you kissed him back. That was a stretch to say... But it happened like that in general.

As promised, he called Ned once he put the suit back to its box. When he heard as the phone called Ned's number, Peter laid down on his bed, looking into the ceiling, starting his computer to watch a movie. Pete already knew that with the taste and feel your lips on his mind, he wouldn't be able to fall asleep. And boy oh boy, Ned could tell something happened between you two as he heard Peter's first long, dreamy sigh.

"Tell me everything because you'd tell me anyway. Did she do the sushi as thought she would?" - Ned asked excitedly. It was clear that Ned's still sick, but this was a once in a lifetime occasion. No matter how much about to die Ned felt, he refused to go to sleep before Peter tells him everything.

"And sandwiches. She prepared the two things she cooks the best and I think she was trying to impress the other guy." - Peter told him in response and really, there was nothing for Ned to deny. Y/N's sandwiches were one of the best in the whole Queens. You always told the party that you prepared every piece of food you only with love - you put your heart on the plate. No wonder that you tried to impress even Spider-Man with these two everyone's all-time favorites.

"How did the whole thing even went? You sound like if it went good and I'm all ears." - Ned encouraged Peter, which was the moment that brought him back to reality a bit. It felt as if he had a split personality disorder - one of them kissed you and the other one was just told: "No, I don't want to date you". Well, you didn't explicitly said that you didn't want to have anything with Peter, but you said that you don't exactly think that he's a relationship option for you.

"Well, to say it how it is, she told me that... I think she doesn't feel the same way about Peter." - Peter said honestly, putting his hand on his chest while he waited for Netflix to launch on his old notebook. Ned hummed understandingly.

"And you left right after, is that right? There's possibly nothing else you could do." - Ned asked worriedly, but when his friend just shut up for a pretty long time, Ned knew that Peter didn't leave you on the rooftop. - "Peter, what on Earth did you do?"

"You're going to freak out when I tell you. And I don't want to listen to that." - Peter sighed and chose some dumb teenage show he could watch in the meantime. Ned sighed as well and thought for a while that maybe, just maybe, Peter might've gone insane and all with this plan.

"I kissed her." - Parker admitted more quietly, sighing dreamily once again. Ned knew that something like this would happen over time. You got in the phase when you were slowly starting to date Spider-Man, which was great on one side, but Peter was left behind. If Ned's dumb best friend chooses to continue with this insane relationship, there will be one day when he will have to tell you everything. Who is he, why did he tried to win you over as Spidey and not as Peter, or why did he kept these theatrics and game on for such a long time...

And Ned knew that this moment will be brutal once it arrives - he knew you and your nature, he knew how Peter was like... And when all the three worlds (his, yours and Spider-Man's) will collide, the results will destroy both you and Peter probably.

"Peter..." - Ned said silently with his eyes closed, but he knew that by telling him how much of a shitty thing he's up to won't help no-one. So the last topic Ned was asking about the kiss. - "Were you as bad as you were with MJ or did you scored this time?"

"Hey. Not fair, MJ was my first official kiss since kindergarten and it wasn't as terrific as she tells everyone. But I pretty much scored with Y/N today. This was a home run when it comes to a kiss." - Peter patted his shoulder with his words. And to both his and Neds wonder, he drifted off during the phone call, because the excitement just tired Peter to death.

When he met you the other day in school, you were looking like a fairy. That day, you wore a high-waisted jean skirt, a white short-sleeved t-shirt with sunflowers printed on it and a denim jacket. And just for the fun, you even put a flower headdress into a messy hairstyle. Jesus, Peter had never seen someone looking so ridiculously good in such normal clothes.

"Are you fine?" - You nudged his side with your elbow carefully when everyone sat in the cafeteria to have lunch before the afternoon classes. MJ on the other side of the table had a TEDx Talk with Ned, who was finally feeling better and Betty, about the modern society and what grossed her out this time, which you didn't listen since you were stealing lettuce from Ned's tortilla. For a reason, Ned didn't like lettuce, so you almost always all of it. - "I mean, you've been staring into the ragu for more than ten minutes and I don't exactly think that staring would make it warmer, you know?" - You asked before you opened your lips wide as you tried to get the phone out of your backpack.

"I found this meme before I went to sleep and I don't know If I was sleep-deprived or bullshit like that, but it reminded me of you." - You mumbled and searched through your gallery, clearly waiting for Peter to lean over your shoulder as he always did. That was when the thing line between his Spider-Man personality and Peter one started to blur for a second.

Peter almost leaned his palm directly behind your bottom - he, obviously didn't mean to do to harass you, but he needed to support his upper body. In the last minute, he fetched the arm back to his lap - you, thanks to God, didn't notice it. Spider-Man was way further in a so-called relationship with you but even him still couldn't do that. And you would just smack the living fuck out of Peter if he accidentally touched your butt. He just knew that you would.

He leaned closer, furrowing while reading the text which would be completely illogical for May - but it made Peter and Ned both laugh.

"Are you seriously going through memes on the other table again? You don't even listen to why the dude touched my boob." - MJ looked at the three of you grinning. You pretended that you're not even there and slowly put your phone on the table again before looking at MJ and Betty.

"The council has found a meme that can potentially be called the champion and we needed to judge it." - Ned answered MJ with all seriousness and you snorted to your palm as you hid the laughter in front of MJ. The whole meme thing was happening since New Year's Eve - you were looking for any kind of meme and you all were allowed to have three champions that will fight for the title of the meme of the year. And you had your first now and honestly, it was a killer.

"I think it passed the trial." - Peter rose his eyebrows at Ned and watched you laughing. That made him smile happily as well - just watching as you closed your eyes, trying to behave as an adult. But then, when you looked at Peter and his wrist, your eyes almost popped out. You grabbed his watch and looked at the time. Then suddenly, you started to pack abruptly.

"I didn't know its this late, guys. I have a consultation with Miss Crankypants and you know how cranky she can get once you come late." - You mumbled and put a strap of your backpack on your shoulder. Miss Crankypants, her name wasn't Crankypants, was your math teacher and you were lost when it came to math. So sometimes, when even Peter couldn't help you with the problems, you had consultations, since both you and she didn't want to spend your summer meeting up to write another exam.

"You two, see you in the evening?" - You pointed at Peter and Ned. You were talking about a Twilight marathon, a long time ago, and since MJ and Betty wanted to try out a PowerPoint presentation and you didn't want to look at that mess honestly. You, therefore, chose to hang out at May’s and you planned to show them, why Bella should've chosen Jacob and show the boys that Twilight wasn't as bad as they remembered it.

"Yeah." - Ned nodded and Peter just smiled, since the hangout was at his place this time.

"I'll bring popcorn!" - You yelled all over the cafeteria as you ran to the consultation with Miss Crankypants. May allegedly hade some kind of date, so you were free to do as you wanted at their place. Which was an ideal evening for a Twilight Saga in your opinion? You gathered on the smallest couch - and since Ned wasn't exactly a small guy, you had to scoop more close to Peter, which Ned knew - that was why he made himself comfortable. Just when Bella got hit with the volleyball ball, you put the popcorn on the table, making both the boy track their looks to you. You had enough of Ned’s bullshit.

"A), I'm feeling cold so Imma snatch one of your hoodies, Parker and B) Ned, I know that cosplaying Pac Man was your secret dream since you were small, but what is enough, that is enough. Scoop somewhere else, dude, I can't even sit like a normal human being."  - You got up and went to Peters's room when you not only snatched his hoodies since you forgot to bring yours but also changed into your old, favorite sweatpants.

Ned looked knowingly at blushing Peter - this much body contact was about to kill him. And Ned never fled from the battleground. Which you understood at soon as you got back, watching Bella and Edwards rather awkward conversation and Ned still occupied more than half of the couch.

"'ight, Peter, thank Ned for making you this uncomfortable because someone's an asshat today and I don't have any other option." - You mumbled with portrayed drama as you climbed between them, leaning your feet into neds thigh as you laid down on the other boy's lap. And dear lord, you never noticed how firm these were. And when you turned around to ask him for a pillow, you caught these hazel marbles watching you intensely as his cheeks blushed. And you had to repeat the question since Peter's brain went for immediate, automatic shutdown. Not only you looked gorgeous in that hoodie, but you were also laying on his lap... Almost as if... As if you did it every day.

"Will you give me the pillow, please? These bad boys are pretty tough, not a healthy neck support." - You laughed at that sight because Peter just looked utterly cute at that moment, your fingers pointing at his thighs. Peter just smiled back and gave you the pillow, not touching any other part of you. You made it to the end of Breaking Dawn Part One when Ned had fallen asleep and started to snort fucking loudly.

As gently as you could, you woke him up and made him go to sleep on the mattress Peter prepared him in his room. And since Ned was delusional once he fell asleep, so naturally, Peter filmed the whole conversion between you and him and laughed in the background as a little kid doing something mean. In the end, Ned was sleeping safe and sound and you made sure that Parker can still walk to his bed.

You caught Peter looking into his phone as you walked back to the living room, but he almost immediately put it away when he sat you sitting down - and even if you could now stretch all you wanted, you still laid down your head on his thighs, searching for the remote controller.

"Are you up for Part two or do you want to go to sleep?" - You asked before you pressed play. In case Peter felt tired, you still could watch the movie alone. No matter how early you all had to get up the next morning, you were strong enough to finish the movie night

"I'm good." - Peter said less cautiously, not realizing that he's peter now - so he put his arm around your shoulder to hold you a bit closer. You didn't mind him at all. You were overall passionate and PDA person - you were hugging MJ all the time no matter how hard she was cringing at that, sometimes you jumped on Peter’s back and let him carry you around the campus, sometimes you entwined your fingers with Betty when you walked down the hall or your elbow with Ned’s when he was beside you. You snuggled everyone, especially when they had a bad day. it was just platonic and from these occasions, you had the nicest photos - you especially loved the one where you pretended that Peter’s your Trojan horse as he carried you around the campus while you heatedly screamed ’Death to Troya!’.

So a hand over your shoulder? That was something you ignored completely.

You got to the point where Bella threw Jacob out of the house when you turned on your back, letting Peter’s arm reamin around your shoulder, now thrown over your collarbone. You looked him in the eyes and smiled.

"You seem weird, Parker. I wanted to ask you a few days back actually, but never got the chance." - You smiled, looking him in the face. Peter's cheeks blushed, it was basically automatic at that point, as he nodded for you to continue. - "You like someone, don't you?" - You closed your eyes a bit, giving him one of the sick smiles. You wanted to know everything - who was she, how did he meet her and if he's going to ask her out and other stuff like that. At that, Peter chuckled before he nodded.

"Is it Bethany from chemistry classes? Or Mary Jane from your physics theory classes? I need to know everything." - You got out with a chuckle. What would you do if he just told you? Just like that? That he's into you and that he's coming to see you in the suit? Instead, he chose a different strategy.

"All I gotta say is that I have someone on my mind. But because you can't keep any secrets, I'm not going to tell you who it is." - He said and laughed when you hit his arm with your palm as you started to laugh. Damn, how beautiful could you get? Because Peter could see that as more and more time passed, you were more and more pretty.

"Suck it, Parker!" - You laughed, then put your palm over his forearm as you bit your lip. - "I'm seeing someone as well now. It’s going great... And because I don't want Betty and MJ to know tomorrow as soon as you meet them at the campus, Imma not telling you who it is." - You sad proudly and turned to the movie again. Peter actually closed his eyes in frustration, knowing damn well who you were talking about.

And basically, that was how you both fell asleep while the whole super-cool scene with vampires going after each other. And that was how found you, tugging at least you into the blanket. You had your head on his thighs, hugging the pillow with both your arms while Peter sat on the couch, basically broken in his back, leaning into his palm while the other one supported his head.

What the hell was he supposed to do now?

[purplesurveys]

831

When you were a kid...

Were you happy or sad when you found out your babysitter was coming? I didn’t have a babysitter. My grandparents took care of me and my siblings and cousins when we were growing up; and if they were both busy I was usually the one expected to care for everyone. Which was okay with me, since I was the most ~motherly~ one in our little group anyway.

Did you have a boyfriend in kindergarten? I studied in an all-girls school from kinder to high school. Outside of school, also no boyfriends. The boys at my neighborhood were super rowdy and hated girls, so I didn’t like hanging out with them.

Did you ever play hopscotch at school? For sure. I was a little mischievous - I would steal a bunch of chalk from the classroom so I can doodle a hopscotch court on school grounds for me and my friends to play on. I definitely wasn’t the most goody-two-shoes kid in the beginning, lol.

Did you refuse to eat your vegetables? Yeah, hated them. We have this local brand of instant noodles that have pieces of carrot in it, and I remember grouping all the tiny carrot bits at the edge of my plate. I didn’t learn to feed myself until I was around 8 or 9 though, so prior to that my elders would just include vegetables in all my meals and I’d have no choice.

What did you usually dress up as on Halloween? Some basic costume like a witch or pirate. My mom wasn’t super into Halloween and would just get us costume packs from the toy store. I wanna be the complete opposite for my kids.

What was your favorite television show? As a much younger kid I was into Hi-5. When I got a bit older I liked Pokemon, SpongeBob, The Fairly OddParents, My Life as a Teenage Robot, etc. Then when I got slightly older I started watching the real-life shows too, so like That’s So Raven, Suite Life, Drake and Josh, Zoey 101, Hannah Montana. Did you have D.E.A.R. time in school? (Drop Everything and Read) Yes, a few times each year. When I was still a bookworm it had been one of my favorite segments in school because I got to see other kids reading, which was my favorite hobby then. But by the time I was in high school and stopped reading, I remember always struggling to find a book to bring because I didn’t read anything anymore D: If I remember correctly, I think Athenna lent me most of the books I brought for DEAR time since at the time she was into John Green and YA in general. Did you ever read the 'Magic Treehouse' series? No. I googled it to see the cover, and I know as a kid it wouldn’t have interested me enough to pull it out of its shelf. How about the 'Bailey School Kids' series? Nope. Kids my age were into the Geronimo Stilton and Mr Men/Little Miss series. Do you remember the first movie you ever saw in theaters? Yes, it was a Stuart Little movie when I was maybe 3 or 4. I’m guessing it’s Stuart Little 2, because Google says it came out in 2002 and I was 4 years old then, so it checks out. Who was your best friend in elementary school? Angela was my best friend in some grades, but you know how kids are...once they vibe with someone else, they’ll hang out with them 24/7. Angela was a way more sociable kid so she got close with everyone, while I remained terrible at making friends. If she wasn’t my best friend at the time, I had no one. Did they continue to be your best friend in middle school? We don’t have middle school but I’ll guess that this is like Grade 6 and 7 for us? Anyway, no. ~Middle school~ was worse for me because this was when cliques started to form and material trends became the basis for being visible, e.g. owning a Blackberry, wearing Nike Roshes, getting side bangs lol, etc. I had none of those, so I was left behind both in terms of visibility and having friends. I only had a best friend again by the time I entered Grade 7, in which time I met Gabie and the ball started rolling from there. Did you ever watch 'The Land Before Time' movies? No, I didn’t. Did you ever watch the show 'Arthur'? I don’t think it aired here, so no. I did read Arthur books though; they were one of my favorites. Did the tooth fairy give you a lot of money? I honestly thought the tooth fairy was real. I never told my parents whenever a tooth would come out because I thought it was none of their business. That said, they just genuinely never knew to put money under my pillow because my dumbass never told them hahaha. I’ll never forget how crestfallen I was when I woke up to no money though. How often did you visit your nearest grandparents? I lived with them until I was 10. I only visited my other set of grandparents whenever my dad would come home from abroad, so I didn’t and haven’t ended up being close to them. Did you ever play with 'Little People' toys? Never heard of them but when I looked it up the toys looked familiar, so we probably did. How about Polly Pockets? Yes. Did you collect anything when you were a kid? Pokemon cards and pogs, heh. I also had my fair share of notebooks. Did you get an allowance? No, my parents didn’t teach me how money worked early on. I was a packed lunch kid until high school, and when I did ask for money I – and I’m not kidding – would only get a ₱20 bill, which was only enough to get me a tiny snack. What was your favorite sport to play? What is it now? Track, but then it shifted to table tennis when I joined the table tennis club initially out of peer pressure. What foods did you not like then that you do like now? Chicken curry, definitely. Were you into American Girl dolls? No. What was your first pet and what did you name it? It was a goldfish but I don’t remember whether I named it Goldie or Fishy, lol. Did you ever read the 'Junie B. Jones' books? No. What did you want to be when you were a kid? All the things I wante to be were astronaut, firefighter, veterinarian, and writer. What was your first word? Your first sentence? (If you remember) My parents didn’t keep track of either...I definitely would with my own kids. Have you moved into a new house since you were a kid? Yes, several times. When I was an infant we briefly lived with my dad’s parents in Manila. My mom couldn’t take the poverty and pollution there so we moved to a city in Rizal, where my mom’s parents + some extended family live in a duplex. At one point we switched houses in that duplex, and the unit that we switched to was where I lived for most of my childhood until we moved to our present house by the time I was 10. Were you friends with your neighbors? As a child, yeah. I was mostly friends with the girls though because like I said, the boys were super rowdy and sexist in that they never let us play basketball with them and stuff. Did you enjoy exploring your backyard? We didn’t have a backyard. Did you bake cookies with your grandparents? Sometimes! I would mix the dough and turn them into balls. :) What was your biggest fear when you were a kid? Flying cockroaches, because we had a lot of them in our old duplex unit. I also had an irrational fear of catching TV ads at night because I found them too loud and too vibrant. Who did you look up to most? My dad because I barely saw him as a kid. When he was lower down the ladder at his job he’d be gone six months and only stay with us for one. It wasn’t until I got to high school and he had a much higher position that he was away for only four months and home for one and a half.   Did you ever play the 'Reader Rabbit' computer games? I don’t think I’ve heard of that. Did you have a swing set in your backyard? No but we had a relative who had a playground at their place, and we’d go over there often. I spent a good amount of my childhood going as high as I can on their swings. How about a sandbox? Same relative had a sandbox too! It’s my favorite part of a playground and even during playtime in school I would usually be found alone in the sandbox. How old were you when you learned how to ride a bike? I’m 22 and still don’t know how... Did you ever spy on your neighbors through the window? Sometimes. Our houses were very close to each other and their open window is right across the part of our house that also has an open window, so sometimes we’ll fool around and peek. Were you a teacher's pet in kindergarten? No, but I gave my teachers a reason to remember me because I was the kid that peed their underwear everyday and had to go home in shorts. I’ve always been shy and even as a kid I was unable to ask permission to go to the washroom. Did you ever build a treehouse or a fort in your yard? No, ours was too small to build anything like that. Did you ever find anything interesting in your yard? No, just different types of bugs and caterpillars. Did you ever have 'themed birthdays'? Kinda? My 7th birthday party was mostly a plain, theme-less birthday party, but so much of the decorations and giveaways were Bratz-themed because I was into Bratz at the time. Did your parents let you drink soda? They would have let me but I personally never liked it. Did you ever watch 'The Powerpuff Girls' or 'Dexter's Laboratory'? I watched Powerpuff Girls but not Dexter’s Laboratory. Did you sleep with a blanket or stuffed animal? For the most part I preferred cuddling with a pillow. Did you ever have a night light? For some points in my childhood, yeah. Ultimately, I preferred lights out though. Did you watch 'Winnie the Pooh'? Nope, just read Winnie the Pooh books. Did you ever have an imaginary friend? What was their name? I named them Katrina but I wasn’t imaginative/creative enough, so when seven minutes passed after I created her and she still wasn’t talking back to me, I gave it up haha. What kinds of games did you play with your friends during Recess? Dodgeball was a favorite. We had a big field just right outside our classroom so we’d all go out, pick our teams, and play for the whole 30 minutes. We’d do it for lunch, too. Fortunately our teachers never barred us from playing, because I guess they knew it counts as exercise for us too. Did you dream of being a princess or did you not really care about that? Not really. I wanted to be an astronaut more haha. The only princess-y things I did were to wear my blanket around my neck like a cape, and to wear a tiara on my 7th birthday party. Did you have a special name for your pacifier? What was it? No. Did you watch 'Blues Clues'? Yesssssss. I grew up with Steve and Joe. It was such a fun show to watch. What kind of car did your parents have? I don’t remember the make anymore but we had a black sedan until I was around five. It was mostly broken-down and had no aircon, but it was my dad’s first car so it was his absolute baby and I never had the heart to complain about the car’s flaws to him. He eventually sold it and we had a blue Mitsubishi Lancer after. Did you ever flush anything down the toilet by mistake? I don’t remember ever doing that, thankfully lol. Were you afraid to sleep by yourself? No, I think I was excited to start doing it. Growing up in a cramped duplex, I shared one bedroom with my entire family until I was around 9; so when we moved to our own home, I was the first one to call dibs on a bedroom. What was your favorite subject in elementary school? Language, which is a class where we were just taught basic English grammar. I loved reading as a kid and got fluent in English early on, so I was always a top student in that subject. How often did you go to the park? We don’t have parks. What was your favorite kind of cake as a kid? Chocolate cake from Red Ribbon. Did you ever want to grow up? I never actively ‘wanted’ it because I was already kinda forced to grow up early, what with all the issues happening at home and me having to shield my siblings and cousins from whatever screaming match was happening inside.

[revisionaryhistory]

Three Days ~ 3

AO3

~*~Sebastian~*~

I straightened my clothes when I got out of the SUV. I realize my first impression is already shot to hell, but I'm attempting to make up some ground. In front of her door I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths before knocking. I tried to re-frame my sudden nervousness as excitement. When she opened the door two things happened. My mouth started to water and my jeans shrank at least one size.

I went with it. "You look beautiful." I kept my voice soft and smiled.

The peach shirt and white jacket set off her eyes and slightly tanned skin. I liked the slight swell of her breasts showing out the top of her shirt. Just sexy enough. I mean, I have nothing against naked breasts, rather like them, but this was a good first date look. Believe it or not, there is such a thing as too much. And there's time and place for more. This wasn't it.

Emma smiled and put her hand on my bicep, "Thank you. You clean up nicely."

I laughed, "I didn't really pack for a dinner date."

"I thought you might be limited, so I went with jeans."

My head jerked a little in surprise. "That's really nice. Thank you." I had to stop myself from staring. I'm not sure what I'm more amazed by: her kindness or the ease with which she speaks about her thought process. She says it like it's no big deal, but it is. Or maybe I'm more jaded than I thought. I snapped myself out of my thoughts, "Ready to go?" She nodded and I put my hand on her lower back, leading her to the vehicle.

I started backing out and remembered I didn't know where we were going. I put on the brake, rested my hands on the steering wheel, and looked over, "Which way? Where we going?"

"I had two ideas. In town there's a pub. Typical pub food. Bar on one side. Restaurant on the other. Probably live music, but its not loud on the restaurant side. Or about five miles north there's a place on the river with outdoor tables. They specialize in ribs and barbecue, but have everything from steak to seafood."

"Outside on the river sounds good. Nice night for it." I pointed at the navigation screen. "You put it in. Then we can talk without getting lost."

She laughed, "Are you sure we haven't met before? I'd completely get talking and forget to tell you where to turn."

"I think I'd remember." I smiled and watched her press the buttons. Her nails where longer than her fingertips. Long enough to feel, but not so long as to do damage. I should probably stop thinking like that or my my pants are going to shrink more.

"How is the moving going?"

"Good. They hired movers for the actual move. I'm here to shift boxes to other rooms, hook up electronics, and hang things. I think mom used the move as an excuse to get me to visit. When my step-dad retired they moved upstate. Now they're closer again, so it'll be easier."

"Are you an only child?"

"I am. Mom and I left Romania when I was eight then moved to New York when I was twelve." I didn't know if she knew my history or not. It was very vain to think she'd googled and read interviews. I wasn't sure if she was a fan. I liked how my job wasn't part of the conversation. That couldn’t last, but it was nice for now. "What about you?"

“I have an identical twin. Amelia.”

I don't think she was done talking, but I burst in. “That's so cool. Emiliana and Amelia. Did you switch around to fuck with teachers and boyfriends?”

An evil grin crossed her face. “All the time. Our parents mostly. They could never tell us apart. They tell this story about how my dad was so sleep deprived that he forgot to put on our color coded booties and they're not one hundred percent sure which one we really are.”

“Oh fuck! Priceless.”

“Once we hit our junior year Amy cut her hair and started dying it red. If we wanted to pull anything off we had to pull our hair up and shove on a hat. She's got a daughter now and since we're identical twins Katie is genetically my daughter too.”

My mouth dropped open, "I'd never thought of that." I raised my eyebrows, "Never been out with a mom before."

"First time for everything."

We laughed and conversation was easy the rest of the short drive. She pointed out the river walk and restaurant as we drove across the bridge. I was thinking an after dinner stroll was a good idea.

It was early enough that getting a table by the water wasn't a problem. Either the time or the hostess recognized me. She sat us in the corner of the deck with water on both sides. It was a beautiful view. My date and the scenery. Date was better. Before the hostess left she looked at me, "I'll send your server right over, Mr. Stan."

I guess that answers that.

There was a drink menu on the table. I picked it up and looked at Emma, "Do you drink?" She nodded and I handed her the menu. "A beer on the water sounds good."

The server showed up, took our drink orders, and by the time she brought our beers we were ready to order. There was a lull in conversation between discussing the menu and whatever was going to come next. We both took a drink to fill the space. I pulled at the label on my bottle nervously. "What do you for a living?" I knew I was opening the door for the same question, but it was the next logical topic.

"I teach first grade."

I never had a teacher who looked like her. "Why first?" I liked finding out why people made the choices they did.

"I like teaching the little people to read. Kindergartners are too squirrelly. There's a lot of time just teaching them how to be in school. Lots of crying in Kindergarten. Fifth graders are starting to be smart asses."

I nearly spit my beer across the table.

She laughed and handed me a napkin from the dispenser on the table, "They are! The hormones are starting to kick in. No thank you. Third and fourth are assessment years and it's all about getting them ready. Second is this weird hybrid where you're reteaching what they missed in first and getting their basic skills ready for third." She took a drink and continued. "First graders are perfect. They get so excited when they can put sounds together to make words and then read the words in a book. Or when they figure out three plus two is the same as counting three stars and two stars, figuring out the algorithm. I love teaching them to subitize. That’s knowing how many things there are without counting them. We play songs and games. Their little faces light up and they're so proud of themselves. The ones who struggle. It's hard to figure out how to help them and keep their confidence up. They break my heart." She put her hand over hers.

Her love of what she did was obvious. I couldn't remember talking to a teacher after I left school. My teachers just tortured me with homework, papers, projects, and group work. I shook my head, "Until right this second I had never thought of a teacher being excited about their students learning."

"You either had shitty teachers or hated school."

"Both." I looked up, searching my memory. "Leaving Romania was good, but I didn't speak anything but Romanian. I was a good student, but when we moved to Vienna I had to start over. I couldn't communicate. I couldn't read. It was hard. Mom threw a fit because my teachers used the language issue to not push me. She wasn’t having it. Then we moved here and it was starting over again. I was in that awkward stage, had at least three chins, didn't have any friends, and could barely speak English."

She cringed, "I don’t like your teachers. You have to work harder. There's always kids with stories. Whether they’re new, or a parent has died, or they don't speak English, or they've been abused, or they’re just different. You have to work harder to find a way to connect with them and be different for them. You have to have the relationship to help them learn. I'm not going to lie, sometimes you don't like a kid, but that's the job. You're the adult. Figure out how to make it work."

"Yeah, I didn't have teachers like you. It got better. Puberty helped and so did partying." I smirked around my beer bottle as I drank. "My teachers didn't look like you either. Would have paid more attention if they had. Well, maybe not paid attention, but enjoyed class more."

Her shoulders raised a little and one side of her mouth curled up, "Want me to teach you to read or something, Seb?"

"Now there's a loaded question." She’s still figuring out what to call me. Fuck.  I might be sad when she figures it out and sticks to one name.

Luckily or unluckily our appetizers arrived. The flirting was fun, but we’re early into dinner. Lots of time for flirting. Good to mix it up.

We'd ordered a sampler. I picked up one of the fried pickles, "There's a place in Atlanta where these are called frickle pickles."

"I grew up in Alpharetta."

"Did you? I've spent a lot of time in Atlanta." I kept going without even thinking. "The Marvel movies filmed there and most of Falcon and the Winter Soldier will be filmed there." I stopped with a pickle about to my mouth. "Umm."

"There's the elephant in the room." Emma popped a french fry covered in cheese and bacon in her mouth.

I chewed my pickle slowly to buy a little time. What for I don't know. It's awkward. I wiped off my hands and finished my beer. "I was enjoying ignoring the elephant." I leaned forward onto the table. "I liked just being a guy on a date."

"You still are." The look on her face was showed she was amused.

I liked that she wasn’t taking the topic seriously. I'm pissed I brought it up. We were doing fine getting to know each other without the complications of what I do. No one explains that part to you in acting school. You just learn about the craft, business, and what not to do an audition. They don't teach you about someone posting a picture of you laying shirtless in the park. You're doing what everyone else is doing, but if you were anyone else no one would care about you laying in the park getting some sun. This is why actors, and models, and sports stars date other actors, and models, and sports stars. All of those things which become a normal part of your life are normal for them too. It's not normal to other people. And until I mentioned filming in Atlanta I was having a damn fine time being a guy helping his parents move.

I want to fucking scream.

I drummed my fingers beside the plate. "I liked being the homeless guy you met in the baking aisle."

She frowned and put her hand over mine, "I didn't think you were homeless. There's a rehab facility up the road. I thought you were an addict stopping for chocolate before checking in. To help with the withdrawal."

I threw my head back and laughed hard. "Even better!" I turned my hand over, holding her fingers, and rubbing my thumb over her soft skin. "Can I go back to being that guy?"

“You're still the sweet guy running errands for his mom. The one I waited for at the check out. Before I knew his name or recognized him."

My eyes were wide and I was doing that thing I do where I'm licking my lips and playing with my tongue. That can mean lots of things. Right now is intrigued with a side of slightly nervous.

"It's going to be hard to get to know you if you don't tell me about your friends and what you do with your downtime."

She had a good point. I wasn't sure what my plan had been. Her talking about herself all night wasn't going to work. "I can do that. Talk about my friends."

Things have gotten more complicated. Not for the reason I expected. We've pretty much worked around the how do I be an ordinary man with a not so ordinary job problem. Now the problem is I'm holding her hand. It's soft and warm and I don't want to let go. I want to stay touching her. I can not figure out how we're going to eat.

[geewithluv]

taehyung ♛ meeting her parents

Ｐａｉｒｉｎｇ： KIm Taehyung x Fem!OC Claire

Ｇｅｎｒｅ： Fluff, Angst

Ｗａｒｎｉｎｇｓ： mentions of parental suicide (takes place years prior), depression

Ｒａｔｉｎｇ： PG

Ｗｏｒｄ Ｃｏｕｎｔ： 1k

Ａ／Ｎ： «this belongs in my headcanon universe and you can read the other parts in the masterlist, the description of the characters is [here] so you get a summary of who they are. »

ｍａｓｔｅｒｌｉｓｔ

Claire’s father was always busy. He had been her whole life but once she moved out on her own, he got even busier. He always made time for her, showed up to every parent-teacher conference, every play, every sports game, picked her up from her friends’ house right on time, every time. He always made time for her. But lately, he couldn’t. It was always something. There was always a movie he was working on or he was busy thinking about working on. It was always the same time of year where he forced himself into his work. And this year was worse.

 Claire and Taehyung had been dating for about a year and a half when the 20th anniversary of her mother’s death came up. Claire wasn’t quite 5 yet but she remembers her mother so vividly. Having nearly every moment videotaped helped with that, of course. From 10th grade in high school until just hours before her death, it seemed like every time her parents were together there was a camera recording. Her father says she was his greatest muse, no feature film as perfect as a single video of her. No award meant more than her love. No one more worth immortalizing in hours upon hours of footage than Lilac Preston. 

 Claire felt a similar pain to her father this time of year, the loss, the grief, the sorrow. A therapist once told her that it was nearly a routine now. Since every year her home would fall silent for about a month while her father fell into depression. She was told that some of the depression she felt during this time was only because it was normal to her but not because of her own personal heartache. But that didn’t mean her heart ached any less.

 Claire loved watching old home videos. After her mother passed, she became her father’s only muse. So much of her life had been recorded as well. Immortalized because as much as her father felt she was deserving of such an extensive collection of film; he was worried that one day it’d be all he’d have left of her too.

 It wasn’t uncommon for Taehyung to walk in and find Claire watching footage of her mother. It was, however, uncommon to see her watching it with someone else. Her father.

Taehyung had never actually met the man. He had been meaning to, he wanted to, and Claire wanted him too. But both men were very busy and unfortunately in different industries. Taehyung adored her father’s films even before he met Claire so he was hopeful that meeting him wouldn’t be on such depressing terms.

 “You’re so pretty! A supermodel!” Claire’s mother spoke as a 4-year-old Claire made the living room a runway.

 “All ready for kindergarten! Seems like just yesterday we brought you home.” Her father said behind the camera.

 “They grow up so fast.” Her mother didn’t look into the camera but instead at her only child who was playing with the zipper on her new backpack. “You’re gonna do great.” She says and then turns to the camera with a smile.

 Claire’s father pauses the film. Claire had just noticed Taehyung walk into her apartment. He had seen the footage once before. The last video of her mother, taken less than 2 hours prior to her death. Her father thought at the time she was speaking to Claire, telling her she was going to be a great student the next month when school came around. He didn’t realize she was talking to him, telling him he was going to be a great single father. Taehyung knew how the film ended, Claire and her father get ready to go to the playground and get ice cream. Claire kisses her mother goodbye, the couple even kisses on camera and she says, “Have fun, I love you both.” and those were her last words.

 “Hey! You brought lunch!” Claire jumped up to greet Taehyung, though her voice sounded excited her expression wasn’t. 

 “Um, yeah, yeah.” He didn’t know if he should stay or not. “Didn’t realize we had a guest, but we always get extra anyway.” He smiled uncomfortably. 

 “I should go.” Her dad stands.

 “No!” Claire yells before taking a deep breath. “I mean, it’s fine. Don’t worry. The place makes too much food anyway and we always have like 2 days’ worth of leftovers. Stay. Please.” She begs. “I’ve wanted you to meet Taehyung for a while.” Her dad nods.

 “Been planning on meeting you, son. Just got a busy schedule, nothing personal, I promise.” The man says, Taehyung notices him turn professional quickly. A trait he’s noticed in himself and so many other public figures. The ability to flip a switch in your brain to shut off your own emotions for the fans and the cameras.

 “It’s fine. Your movies are fantastic, so I don’t mind being pushed aside for them.” Taehyung tried to lighten the situation.

 “Which one’s your favorite?” He asked while Claire started taking the food out of bags. And soon, Taehyung and Claire’s father were deep in conversations not only about her father’s films but other films. Claire watched the two go back and forth talking about movies Claire hadn’t even heard of before, but she looked at them so fondly. 

 Maybe this year wouldn’t be so bad after all.

 Before bed, after Claire’s dad had gone back to his home, tired for a day of conversation and laughter with his daughter and her partner, Claire kissed Tae’s lips and whispered a ‘thank you’ to him.

 “For what?”

 “That’s the happiest I’ve ever seen him in July.” She confessed. “You’re an angel, you know that?” Taehyung rolled his eyes.

 “I didn’t do anything, he’s cool. I hope we can see him again, soon.”

 “Hopefully, he’ll probably just wanna see you though.” She laughed.

 “I’m just that awesome.” Taehyung bragged, a smirk on his face.

 “Don’t be cocky.” Claire threw a pillow at him. She heard her phone buzz and went over to check it.

 From Dad: He’s perfect for you, kiddo. See you tomorrow.

 Claire was certain she was dating an angel that called himself Kim Taehyung.

[filmsthirteen]

Finding Myself through Cameron Crowe Films

  *Minor Spoilers*

    There are a handful of directors, writers, artists, and singers who have influenced my life. Yet there is only a handful of them who consistently released art that contributed to the person I have moulded into, (despite only being 19 and thinking this is the final version of myself). But one filmmaker in particular, resonates as having created films that were pressed play constantly as a teenager. That filmmaker is the man, the myth, the legend, Cameron Crowe. If it were up to me, he’d be Sir Cameron Crowe. An artist who had managed to shape multiple generations and accurately reflect on generations that once existed. From the early eighties, Crowe has contributed to the films that teens flocked to the theatre to see when they were released, and many years later, those teens would show their kids those films. Thus, I was thankfully brought up by brilliant films such as Fast Times at Ridgemont High, Say Anything, Singles, and Almost Famous. All those films manage to capture adolescence and young adulthood, through numerous characters, eras, and most importantly, through the use of music. Now that I’m in my final year of being a teenager, and entering the next phase of my life, I thought it was time to thank Cameron Crowe for guiding me through these seemingly treacherous years. 

    I was raised on eighties films. I always had the blessing of having parents who were really into films, and so I was constantly shown film after film. Many of them were teen films of the eighties. So, of course, there were many late nights of watching Pretty in Pink, Heathers, and Risky Business. Though Crowe's films obviously ended up in the mix, the first time I remember sitting down to watch one of his films ended up being around thirteen. My Dad got me one of those three pack special DVDs from Walmart, with Sixteen Candles and The Breakfast Club. Both of them I was absolutely obsessed with and made me long to be a teenager. Despite John Hughes being the legend he is, the third film, Fast Times at Ridgemont High, was the one that stuck with me through all four years of high school. I watched the film on my own the night before my first day of high school. I was starting that year off fresh; all my friends were going to the public school, while my parents shipped me off to the Catholic school the next town over, where I’d have to wear khaki cardboard material like pants, and polyester shirts in either green, white or blue. I worried my entire summer about the first day of high school; walking down halls I didn’t know, sitting beside people I never had the pleasure of knowing since kindergarten. On Stacy's (Jennifer Jason Leigh) first day of high school, American Girl by Tom Petty plays. Immediately I grabbed my iPod touch, added it to my iTunes, and played it on repeat on my hour and a half long bus ride, and into the doors of the school. Minus doing it with an older dude, getting pregnant, and brushing up my blowjob skills with a carrot in front of the cafeteria, I wished I was like Stacy. Having a cool job in the mall, somehow being gorgeous all the time (even during exam season?) and having a really sweet guy like Mark take you on a date to a really fancy German restaurant, seemed like an experience I deserved. But Cameron wrote about things in this film so painfully realistic to the high school experience, even thirty years later. I knew girls who went out with weird guys way too old for them, having plans for the future destroyed, and of course, having a teacher who thinks that everyone is on dope (which they're totally right about). It doesn't exaggerate the experience of a teenager, making the film so close to the truth as a film can get. Perhaps its due to Crowe actually spending the year as an undercover student, and honestly, all teen films should've been fact-checked like this one. 

     Less than seven years later, Crowe came out with Say Anything. Though my Mom loves this movie, and used to watch it whenever it would come on TV, it was the 2010 film Easy A that actually got me to watch the movie. I made it a point to go back and watch all those films that Emma Stone’s character lists off when discussing if chivalry is dead. Thus I ended up watching Can’t Buy Me Love, Sixteen Candles, The Breakfast Club, Ferris Bueller's Day Off, and of course, Say Anything. I wanted my life to be like an 80s movie directed by John Hughes, but I got it so much better, I got a life unintentionally directed by Cameron Crowe. And because of that, I fell in love with wanting to be that smart girl like Diane Court. I look back now on how much studying I did in high school, and how it paid off to where I am now. It’s important for filmmakers to add these characters, ones were they say that girls can be pretty and smart, not settling for the cliched pick and choose scenario. So I worked hard, writing endless essays, studying late at night for a math test, and juggled clubs and activities. But still, I wished to also have that and be wanted by someone. Like Lloyd Dobler, who wants Diane so much, its all he thinks about. But listen, for once I can say the character of Lloyd isn't some creepy dude, who has an obsession and is purely motivated by this girls essence. Again, there are way too many films with the lead guy being solely provoked by a woman's body. But when he gets her, he holds on, noting that her feelings are reciprocated. She could go off to Oxford, and he’d be right there. Perhaps love at this age is rare, but when you know, well you know. And that's a huge difference that my generation can see. Though many of us have grown up with divorced parents, constant cheating, and unreciprocated feelings, at such a young age, we shouldn't keep that from the actual emotions that we are meant to feel for another human. Maybe we are supposed to give it all, and as I watch this film, I’m not wondering what if Lloyd didn't go about the relationship as he did, I wonder how Lloyd and Diane are. Because like I said, he wants her so bad that he stands outside of her house after a fight, holding that boombox up high, blasting the best love song of all time, In Your Eyes by Peter Gabriel. I can’t even tell you the amount of times I’ve had that song on an endless repeat, but I can promise that I most likely broke the record the summer of ‘18. I longed to be sought after like Diane (cause who honestly doesn't want to be so enormously desired by someone you love?). By the end of the August heat, I laid awake at night, waiting for that song to be played outside of my window (actually would've freaked me out but still, the thoughts nice). But that song ended up being played during the fall, plenty of times in the cold winter days, and in the early spring, all the while so content with listening to it at this very moment. Sometimes boys and girls, it's good to just say anything (add wink emoji here). 

     Despite still being totally obsessed with all things of 80s culture, it's time to bring up that phase that wasn't ever a phase, but the depths of my soul. The tenth grade brought about my “grunge phase.” I got my nose pierced, splurged on Doc Martens, stocked my closet with various coloured flannel shirts and band tees. I wanted people to know that I listened to Nirvana, Guns n Roses, and Pearl Jam, despite it being on my shirt that I’d wear under my uniform sweater. My eyeliner was thick black, and my tweets were usually lyrics from some band part of the Seattle Sound. My Dad was in his teens when the Seattle sound came about, and thus as a kid, I spent many car rides hearing Alice in Chains ‘Dirt’ album, Pearl Jam’s the ‘Ten’ album, and Nirvana’s ‘Unplugged’ album on the radio. For me, I was the real shit when it came to this era of my life. And that became the perfect opportunity for my dad to introduce me to Crowe’s ‘92 film Singles. A group of young adults who all live in (a now extremely famous) the same apartment complex, during the height of the Seattle sound. Surprise surprise, they reside in Seattle. Honestly, there could've been no better film for my dad to turn on. With cameos from my bae Eddie Vedder and the late Chris Cornell, the film brings so much to the group of young adults who chose to immerse themselves in real boy bands, compared to whatever the other ones who sang with earpieces paired with synchronized dances did. No offence. Dealing with the idea of relationships, whether we are to settle or have fun in our 20s, Singles is supposed to be about Gen Xer’s, yet, I can see how many millennials still have this issue. There are plenty of girls I know who have used their ex’s t-shirts to clean their toilets, and though we aren't making dating VHS’s, they are perfecting their tinder profiles, hoping that actual human connection exists on the other end. The biggest point in the film that got me, (despite being sixteen trying to imagine myself in four years time), was the whole fear of what if you commit and what if you don’t? There are many ways you can mess up potential, and still, it lies within not calling after a date, or in our case, texting after hanging out. Sometimes we just need people to say and do the right things without having to tell them what is the right thing to do or say. And if it all works out, we’ll end up like Steve and Linda who move out the single bedroom apartment, and into never having to be labelled again as a single. 

     Eight years came about the semi autobiographical story of Crowe himself, Almost Famous. The film with the best soundtrack of all time, due to it having a budget of 3.5 million, compared to most films with budgets of about 1.5 million. Honestly, that's the best use of money in all of human history. And thanks to Zooey Deschanel’s duffel bag, we get to hear Simon and Garfunkel, Led Zeppelin, The Beach Boys, and everyone's favourite, Elton John. You cannot tell me you did not get goosebumps hearing Tiny Dancer being sung in unison by Kate Hudson, Billy Crudup, Patrick Fugit, Jason Leigh, and well I could go on forever about the well-casted film. Before watching the film, I remember that Fool in the Rain was my favourite Zeppelin song. But after watching it for the first time, I had probably had listened to Led Zeppelin’s song Tangerine a hundred times. If a film has such tangible (see what I did there) scenes, and a song contains such a powerful presence, then that is mastering filmmaking in my opinion. Thus, this film was watched during all sorts of moments in my adolescence. The time I wanted to work as a journalist for Rolling Stone, when I was in need of a change, and when I was absolutely alone and only a Cameron Crowe film understood me. And each time I was damn near tempted to be a roadie for a somewhat known band, who hopefully was opening for Black Sabbath. Actually, it was very much this film that got me more obsessed with concerts than I was before. I’d buy tickets as soon as they’d go on sale, mostly to smaller bands, that way I’d have a chance of being up close, and even meeting the band. Like William, I’d wait by the stage doors for the band. Dragging my friends to the concert at least twelve hours before the show would start, just so I could meet bands like Peach Pit, Pale Waves, Colouring, and well other indie bands that I’m sure slim to no adults know. Believe me, I’d wait a week for Black Sabbath if I could. But beyond that, I think that every young person deserves the life, encapsulated in this film; of just going out there and being absolutely free. You know, before life kicks in. And that's really what this film, amongst nearly all of Crowe's films, demonstrate. Get out there kid, put on those headphones, blast some Lynyrd Skynyrd, and just live before you die. Being obsessed with listening to classic rock, I devoured the only season of Paul Feig’s Freaks and Geeks, and had Almost Famous’s soundtrack on repeat. I owned a long green army jacket, and also a faux sheepskin sherpa coat. I was both Lindsey Weir and Penny Lane. I was walking down the two hallways of my high school, and the one street of my small towns downtown, earbuds in, Fleetwood Mac blasting. And through the many characters of these films, they reminded me that I’m here for the art. For the music from the Bookends album, the score of a Tim Burton film, and the tracks of a Tarantino picture. Like Kathy and Paul who went off to see America, Lindsey who goes off to a Grateful Dead concert with her best friend, and Penny Lane who is off to her dream destination of Morocco, I myself am off to see and hear the world. 

      It's odd to look back on these films that meant so much to who I was and who I’ve become. I’m in my last year of being a teenager, and I’m almost done university’ yet I still feel so attached to these characters I feel that I someway embodied. But that's not because I based my life off these characters Crowe created, it's really because Crowe based these characters off of people that exist in life. In those years of watching any teen film out there, Crowes (and of course Hughes) inspired me to look around constantly, taking notes on the friends I had spent lunches on Thursdays, discussing films with, just in case I’d make a film reminiscent about them. In my seemingly ordinary life, Crowe told me to go out and grab those who write seemingly precognition notes in your yearbook. Most importantly, Crowe told me to just let the music guide me through life. And for that, I got my life to be directed by Cameron Crowe. 

INT. Credits being to roll, as ELTON JOHN’S TINY DANCER plays. 

FADE OUT 

[ahouseoflies]

The Best Films of 2018, Part III

Parts I and II are here and here.

GOOD MOVIES

70. Mid90s (Jonah Hill)- I usually applaud filmmakers for letting visuals tell the story instead of spelling everything out, but Mid90s needs to spell some more stuff out, especially at the truncated end. His brother brought him an orange juice, so all of the abuse is forgotten? I need a bit more there.

I was always going to be in the tank for this though, having been the same age as the protagonist at the time, owning some of the same shirts as him and hanging some of the same posters on my wall. Despite the "My First Screenplay" beef I had up top, each supporting character gets something to do. Hill shows promise as a director (and the fingerprints of his influences) by being able to shift between poles of emotions in a matter of seconds.

69. McQueen (Ian Bonhote)- Although it waits too long to get into McQueen's depression, this documentary does an adequate job of showing the ups and downs of his life. It was great seeing things I've only read about, like the Voss show.

Here's the thing though: I'm not a genius, but if I were, I would hope that my closest friends and advisers would be able to articulate what made me great. A little less "We were working sixteen-hour days." A little more "He changed art forever."

68. Beautiful Boy (Felix Van Groeningen)- For better and worse, this portrait of a parent's worst nightmare is unrelenting. Surprisingly, the toughest moment is when Nic is fierce with pride, clean for fourteen months. Because when you pause and see that there's an hour left in the movie, you shudder at how low he might end up going.

Van Groeningen's sort of french braid of past and present hasn't changed for his English-language debut, but things worked best for me when he locked in on Timothee Chalamet's mannered but touching performance. I wish the movie had a proper ending.

67. The Kindergarten Teacher (Sara Colangelo)- This takes a little while to get sick and twisted, but I liked it once it did. Part of why it works is Gyllenhaal's commitment to the role. As dark as the character gets--and the film does seem hell-bent on establishing her as a failure when I'm not sure that's true--Gyllenhaal never judges her. It's probably her best performance since SherryBaby.

As for Gael Garcia Bernal, who plays a poetry professor who kisses people and then apologizes and says that he misread the moment and acts all bashful, are we sure about him? Are we sure he's good at acting?

66. The Spy Who Dumped Me (Susanna Fogel)- The spywork of the last half-hour is way too convoluted, but the comedy is fast and loose in service of a sweet female friendship. We're at the stage with the genius of Kate McKinnon in which I just assume that she came up with anything funny on the spot. For example, there's an off-hand joke that her character went to camp with Edward Snowden and was surprised that the news didn't mention how "into ska" he was. It's so bizarre that it had to be improv. Later, when Edward Snowden shows up as a character, I had to admit that the movie was tightly written. But I assumed it was McKinnon first. 65. Ready Player One (Steven Spielberg)- Halfway through Ready Player One, there's a sequence that takes place inside The Overlook Hotel of The Shining. The characters are walking through a photorealistic recreation of that setting, down to the smallest details, but it has been repurposed with different angles for this film. Not only have I literally never seen something like this in a movie, but I never imagined the possibility of such a thing existing. And somehow...it's corny and derivative.

So goes Ready Player One. It takes the simple pleasures of a Chosen One narrative with a killer villain, loads every corner of the frame with Ryu or Beetlejuice or a Goldie Wilson campaign poster, and punishes you with maximalism. Each piece reliably contributes to the whole, sometimes in thrilling and amusing fashion, but no matter when you check your watch, forty-five minutes are left.

When imdb came out, Steven Spielberg was one of the first people I looked up. What shocked me was how many projects I attributed to his direction when he had only produced them. In my kid brain, Spielberg had directed Gremlins or Goonies or An American Tail. They had his imprimatur of whimsy and wonder and childhood identification even if they were, you know, a bit more conventional and less purposeful than the movies he directed. Well, not since Tintin has there been a Steven Spielberg-directed film that feels more Spielberg-produced.

My favorite reference was the Battletoads. Or more accurately, imagining the seventy-two-year-old filmmaker going, "Oh, you know I gotta get the 'Toads up in this bih!"

64. Ben Is Back (Peter Hedges)- Despite a little bit of note-card screenwriting--"Get a line about how insurance doesn't care about drug addiction in there!"--The first two-thirds take their time revealing information to the viewer, dropping bread crumbs of the family history quite gracefully. Roberts and Hedges play off each other well, and their charisma powers the first half. She, of course, has an ample bag of Movie Star tricks, but, surprisingly, he already does too. You can see, in the confrontation at the mall, for example, how the mother's dissembling and conniving would pass down to him.

So it's a real bummer when the final third decides to separate the leads and rushes to a baffling conclusion. It falls apart like few movies in recent memory.

63. Avengers: Infinity War (Anthony Russo, Joe Russo)- Whatever. I admire the skill that it must have taken to balance the revolving wheel of characters--even if it does feel like check-ins half the time. The movie is exhausting in a bad way until it's exhausting in a good way. More importantly, here are my power rankings. (Their power in my own heart. Thanos is obviously the most powerful.)

1. Rocket 2. Hawkeye (Renner Season even when it isn't.) 3. The Collector 4. Black Panther 5. Thanos 6. Iron Man 7. Ned 8. Nick Fury 9. Star Lord 10. Thor (His scene with Rocket is the best one in the film.) 11. Gamora 12. Hulk (Your boy is so earnest in this. "They KNEW!") 13. Spider-Man 14. Wong 15. Okoye 16. Doctor Strange (Way cooler in this than his own movie.) 17. Captain America (His hair was beautiful.) 18. Drax 19. Pepper Potts 20. Falcon 21. Groot 22. Black Widow 23. Winter Soldier 24. Loki (Is he alive? Was he alive before this? Can he impersonate people or whatever even if he's dead? What's his deal?) 25. Scarlet Witch (Her first line is, getting out of bed, "Vis, is it the stone again?") 26. Gamora's Sister (No, you look it up.) 27. War Machine (Do you think Cheadle forgets that he's in these? Like, he misses a day of shooting just because he forgot?) 28. Vision 29. Whatever Peter Dinklage Was

62. The Old Man & the Gun (David Lowery)- Sissy Spacek's character explains, on a tour of her house, that she pulled up some wallpaper and found a signature from 1881 underneath, which is so unique that--ugly as it is--she couldn't bear to cover it. The movie is sort of about that. Does a way of life from a long time ago matter now?

Does it matter how you present yourself? How much does intention cancel out action?

The questions play themselves out in a way that is formally interesting--Lowery swish-pans and advances the scenes in a way that he hasn't since Ain't Them Bodies Saints--but informally pretty dull. Redford is engaging as possible, but I feel like I maxed out on my concern for a person who refuses to change.

I've had the Sean Penn "on one" scale for a long time, but I'm introducing the "off one" scale for Casey Affleck, who is so purposefully muted that he seems like he's going to pass out in some scenes. Keep doing you, Case. As far as acting goes.

61. Disobedience (Sebastian Lelio)- I admired how little the film spelled out about the setting and the characters' pasts. The beginning is cautious without being slow, and the women seem drawn to each other with a sort of magnetism that is difficult to pull off. While the triangle of people at the center is realistic and fair, the picture is ultimately a bit staid. I don't want melodrama out of the story either, but I do think it would work better if the characters were more passionate about anything, even the religion that makes them lack passion. 60. Crazy Rich Asians (Jon M. Chu)- This movie is sweet, and it nails the rom-com fulcrum scenes that it has to. Hear me out though: Both of the leads are winning, and Henry Golding's charm keeps us from acknowledging that his character is a psycho. Here is a list of things that, over the course of a year, he does not bother to tell his girlfriend:

a. That his family is the wealthiest in Singapore. Or wealthy at all. But more notably, he tells Rachel no details at all about his family, such as his brothers' and sisters' names. b. That he skipped an important trip home a few months ago, which caused a rift in his family. c. How to pack or dress for their trip to visit his family. d. That his mother did not want them sleeping together at her house, not that he "wants her all to himself." e. That his family wants him to take over their business, which would necessitate a permanent move to Singapore. f. That he went out with one of the women attending the bachelorette party, and that this woman has very good reason to sabotage Rachel and Nick's current relationship. g. That the wedding they're attending is also a super-rich affair that will be covered by international media. h. That the wedding party they're attending the night before is a formal affair with hundreds of guests, not the "family party" that he presents it as. By the way, this is one of the two times that he not only doesn't accompany her to an event, expecting her to meet him there and find him, but he doesn't even send a car. i. That he's thinking about proposing to her. "We haven't even talked about that stuff," Rachel tells her mother.

Communication is key, Nick.

59. Lean on Pete (Andrew Haigh)- I liked the first half and its patient doling out of information. Haigh sews quite a few credible threads to show why the gruff Dell would take a liking to Charley. When the film diverges into a drifter story, I got frustrated with it. To me, drifter characters aren't interesting because they take unpredictable actions, what enliven films, and make them predictable. A dine-and-dash is a dangerous, exciting thing to happen in a movie, but when this scared kid has already done so much similar running, it dulls that edge. This is Haigh's least successful film, but it's still empathetic and sensitive.

58. Hereditary (Ari Aster)- The first third of Hereditary is when it is at its most intimate and compact as a story of grief. And with the bridge of a genuinely shocking event, it becomes less Don’t Look Back and more of a hellish explainer.

Ari Aster is a master craftsman already, investing every element with intention, down to “Why are clocks so present in the frame?” That craft extends to Toni Collette, who is even better than she normally is. But in refusing to be mysterious and small, the film didn't connect with me on a level beyond admiration..

57. Gringo (Nash Edgerton)- The expository information about the company comes too late, the ending is too tidy, and I'm not sure what my girl Mandy Seyfried is doing in this. But it's funny overall, in large part because Theron and Edgerton bounce off each other beautifully, projecting a very specific brand of nouveau riche awful. She says, "Fat people are...hilarious," and he wears too many accessories in his pick-up basketball game, for which there's a running clock.

Many of these crime comedies fail because all of the characters are painted with the same cynical brush, but Oyelowo is so likable here as a frazzled guy in over his head, playing against the type of simmering dignity he inhabited as someone like Martin Luther King. I'm glad that he's getting at-bats with something this different.

56. Bad Times at the El Royale (Drew Goddard)- If you like table-setting (and I do), then this is going to be a fun time. Each room at the motel gets a two-sided mirror, each character is two-faced, many events are presented from two perspectives, and there's even a double in the title. It's hard not to share in Goddard's delight as he patiently lays out all of the Tarantinian pieces.

Once he has to start declaring things though, somewhere halfway in the meandering two and a half hours, the film doesn't end up having much to say. I'm not sure I wanted another Cabin in the Woods ending, but I did want it to add up to more than the modest pleasures that it does. Kudos to Chris Hemsworth and his dialect coach for finally piecing together a serviceable American accent.

55. Thunder Road (Jim Cummings)- As far as calling card movies go, this one is a pretty smart character study. It centers on how the things we find important, the impact of words in this case, can often be the things we struggle with the most, through dyslexia and spoonerisms and messed-up jokes in this case. That being said, no offense, the film would be 25% better with a more capable lead actor. 54. Annihilation (Alex Garland)- Much like Sunshine, another Alex Garland script, this story handles the mystery elegantly, with jolts of real horror, until we get where we're going, which doesn't live up to the promise. I do appreciate that it respects the viewer's intelligence--withholding answers to questions, sometimes never answering questions. I'm grateful that it exists. 53. BlacKkKlansman (Spike Lee)- Like Chi-Raq and Red Hook Summer, BlacKKKlansman would make for a hell of a YouTube compilation if you cut together its best moments. It's sharp and vital when it's at its best, which is pretty much any time it's commenting on the present, through "Now more than ever" Nixon campaign posters, mentions of how David Duke's policies might show up in Republican platforms, or the searing epilogue that brings back one of Lee's oldest tricks.

Like a lot of his recent work though, it's a mess tonally, and basic stuff like the timing of the cuts seems amateurish. I also think Lee's relationship with Terence Blanchard is hurting him at this point; the music doesn't match what's going on at all. I wish it hung together better than it does.

52. Widows (Steve McQueen)- This is the messiest film that Steve McQueen has made, which is its biggest strength and its biggest weakness. That loose quality allows for some expressive moves, such as when the alderman candidate takes a real-time two-minute ride from the poor area where he's campaigning to the tony area where he lives, in the same district. This is a film with admirable ambition to go with its cheap thrills.

But that same messiness produces as many bad performances (Farrell, Neeson, and, yes, Duvall) as it does good ones (Debicki, Henry, Kaluuya), and it elides so many moments near the end that I have lingering questions about whether a major plot point was even resolved. This is definitely the type of movie that has a three-hour cut that is better, and I still hope that director's cut doesn't waste five scenes on Debicki's prostitute relationship with Lukas Haas. (Where is his sliver of a face on the poster?)

51. The Death of Stalin (Armando Iannucci)- I feel as if I have to adjust to the astringency of any Iannucci property, and when I do, I laugh a lot. This movie is hilarious, and I'll save you from a list of the jokes that work the best.

Iannucci and his collaborators take one of the most violent, tyrannical periods of history and expose its perpetrators as sniveling, feckless children who might accidentally spit in their own faces as they're trying to spit on someone else's. Destabilizing those in power--in this case de-memorializing them--and portraying them as lost, scared humans is the goal of satire. So even though he does it so well, part of me wonders, "Is that it?" Bureaucracy is dumb? Isn't this an easy target? For what it's worth, I felt the same way about In the Loop, despite everyone else's praise. I'm waiting for Iannucci to find a weapon sharper than the middle finger.

50. Tully (Jason Reitman)- In a way, it's refreshing for a screenwriter to be bad at writing men. The outdated, clueless, manchild dad is the biggest weakness of the script, especially since everything else is pitched with such realism. There's also one scene that I hate but probably shouldn't spoil.

Put aside that character though, and this is a movie with wit, verisimilitude, and even a bit of visual agility. The protagonist--Marlo, a Diablo Cody name if there ever was one--has a special needs son, and I appreciated the honest way that Marlo's frustration with him sometimes outweighed her understanding.

49. Fahrenheit 11/9 (Michael Moore)- Fahrenheit 11/9 is diffuse, but it's effective enough to be in the top half of Moore's work. He stays out of it mostly (besides that familiar narration, as gentle as it is ashamed), but his heart is clearly in the searing Flint section. In fact, I wish he had made a documentary that focused only on that American travesty, not all of them.

He has the same challenge that many of us do--pointing out the crimes and perversions of Trump while keeping the high ground--and he doesn't always avoid the low-hanging fruit. Dubbing Trump's voice over Hitler's is the type of shit that people hate him for. At most turns, however, Moore's choices make sense. A long diversion into the Parkland kids, even though I find them kind of tiring personally, serves as an inspirational peak to the valley of any people of a generation or two earlier than them.

48. Isle of Dogs (Wes Anderson)- Many Wes Anderson movies are flippant about death and disease. When the effect works, it's refreshing and disorienting. When it doesn't, like in this movie, it feels cold, as if he's moving dolls around in a playhouse.

But in every other way, the sweet and wry Isle of Dogs benefits as a manicured chamber piece. The details are obvious (the tactile fur on all of the dog puppets), less obvious (a translation provides the legend "very sad funeral" to accompany a news story), and even less obvious (more than one joke about how many syllables should be in a haiku). If the narrative--jaded stray finds redemption through guileless child--doesn't offer much in the way of re-invention for the director, then I'm glad the large canvas does.

47. You Were Never Really Here (Lynne Ramsey)- I wanted an artsy crime film, and I got an artsy crime film. I have no idea if I liked it. It's bleak and groady, more of a violence movie than an action movie, concerned with the cycle of abuse and the oily spread of vengeance. It begins twenty minutes after most films of its type might choose to, and it begins in earnest at the hour mark. The atonal Jonny Greenwood score is a perfect approximation of whatever kind of dark clouds are floating in the protagonist's head.

Even when it doesn't work, the film is a reminder that Lynne Ramsey is a real artist. Although this doesn't come close to the catharsis and real-world relevance of We Need to Talk About Kevin, it reveals a focused point of view. Whether it's depicting a sequence through only surveillance footage or cutting to a half-second of flashback, she includes exactly what she wants to.

46. The Commuter (Jaume Collet-Sera)- I gave Non-Stop two-and-a-half stars, and this is a much more elegant version of Non-Stop. Even though it succumbs to gross CGI and outsized conspiracy, the class-conscious table setting is non-pareil, and it lets Neeson act his age.

45. Vice (Adam McKay)- Vice is a difficult film to evaluate because its greatest strength, the resolute, partisan, experimental point of view, is also its greatest weakness, the hand-holding, pedantic, antic point of view. There are moments in this film--the menu scene, the fake-ending--that are more inventive than anything else this year. And credit to McKay for a sui generis structure that covers thirty years in the first hour and two years in the second hour; if nothing else, he has the talent to make unitary executive theory fun.

It's a big, angry, auteurist, '70s swing, so it also takes a lot of chances that don't work and, quite obviously, it wields poetic license in the way that Ron Burgundy swished around a glass of scotch. Sometimes it doesn't know when to trust the viewer, like when it freeze frames and flashes "George H.W. Bush, President, 1989-1993" over a Bush-looking guy talking about "Barbara and I" as his son misbehaves in the background. Through no fault of McKay's, the story feels anti-climactic as well. Although I felt more distance than I expected from events that I consider recent history, the dominoes are still falling in the world that Cheney shaped.

One thing that is less debatable is Christian Bale's transformation into Cheney. That word "transformation" is used any time a famous person wears a wig. This performance, which spans decades and is not directly related to any of Bale's other work, is different. The portrait of Cheney is one of monolithic evil, which Bale suggests, but it's also grounded in reticent, clenched jaw micro-movements. Cheney, who is four inches shorter than Bale, seems like the smallest and biggest man in any room. At this point, if you told me Bale was playing Grendel, I wouldn't bat an eye. In fact, his Grendel might look a lot like Dick Cheney.

[wolfjustdraws]

Single Daddy Issues - Lockwood x Lucy 1

“1st Day at Kindergarten”- Lockwood x Lucy

Lockwood and Co. Series

Summary: Gotta like the teacher!

AU: SingleDaddyAU!

—————Lockwood—————

“You’ve got your lunchbox, dear?”

“Yes daddy”

“And your crayons?”

“Yes daddy”

“And you brought your blanky?”

“Yes daddy”

I drove down the highway stealing glances on my rearview mirror at the little girl that sat on my car’s backseat: my beautiful daughter, Juniper Lockwood.

Ever since I was in high school, I knew what I’d dedicate my life to; my father’s law firm. I had carefully planned my whole life so that I would get the best grades in high school, go to the best college in London, or if possible somewhere abroad, graduate with honors and start my professional career as the family’s business new boss.

My plans hadn’t fail me; I met all my expectations with ease and was soon appointed the CEO of Lockwood and Co., but, you know how people say that there’s our plans and life’s plans for us? And life always gets away with what it wants?

Well, that is exactly what happened to me: one moment my ex-girlfriend from college was at the door of my apartment, and the next moment I had my arms full with a one-year-old girl this woman claimed was mine. And according to the medical tests I took, she was mine.

This was a terrible turn of events for me. I suddenly had to provide for myself and a brat I did not wanted! That’s where my sister, Jessica, came up.

I told her what happened and she came to see me a week after the incident. She had been absolutely delighted to see how much resemblance there was between me and the girl, spent almost an hour cooing at the baby.

Jessica offered me an easy way out of the situation; she’d take the girl away and raise her as her own with her husband and her other kids. Little Juniper would never know she was mine: to her I’d only be uncle Anthony. I had been so tempted to say yes, but by then I had already spent a week tending to the little headache, and honestly, I had started to understand what parents felt like. The joy and pride they got from their children. I suddenly understood why my sister put up with her baby sons.

So, of course I rejected the offer, and promised myself and my baby girl I’d make it work, somehow, someway, even if I was a single dad. After all, money was not an issue.

Today, four years later, was her first day at kindergarten, and I was honestly more nervous than she was. The company had been growing lately and I’d been very busy overseeing all new changes, and even though Jessica was always happy to look after Juniper, I knew she’d have to go to school soon. Just, why so soon?

My deputy, Quill Kipps, suggested this little day care, Little Angel Childcare Center, where his son, Bobby, is currently attending. For what I understood, it was a small but very reputable kindergarten, with excellent reviews, numerous certifications and diplomas, and was actually close to my workplace, but that was as far as my knowledge went. Jessica had made me the favor of attending the school tour for parents and kids and taking the enrollment package, since, due to my overpacked schedule, I hadn’t been able to go. She assured me it was a fine school, but I needed to see this place for myself.

I pulled on the parking lot and took an eyeful of the place. It was a small building, walls painted with bright rainbows and clouds and smiling suns. The playground outside was spacious, with hard plastic houses, sand pits, slides and swing sets. Other cars were parked here as well, with  mothers and fathers helping their children off the car and taking them to the building, some kids crying and some others happy.

I took a deep breath and walked out of the car, opening the backseat’s door to help my daughter off her baby seater.

“Are you sure you’ll be alright?” I asked her one last time. Juniper looked at the building’s door where people entered and disappeared, then back at me with her big, brown eyes.

“Yes daddy”

“All right then, take my hand” The sight of unruly children was everywhere: running around the playground, the parking lot, the halls, crying or laughing, being pulled or chased by their annoyed parents. I made a mental reminder to praise Juniper later for being so well-behaved; cook her favorite dinner, and maybe watch a Disney movie with her before bedtime.

“Hey, Junie!” A woman greeted us as we walked down the hall. She was short, very short indeed, with brown hair, also cut short. She wore a sweater and a skirt over leggings, and a light yellow apron on top. Couldn’t be older than twenty “Welcome to your first day of class”

“Hi miss” Juniper shyly waved her tiny hand at her.

“You don’t have to greet the janitor, dear” I told my daughter. The woman raised an eyebrow and frowned, before grinning slyly at me.

“I am Juniper’s teacher” She said and pointed to the apron “This is just the uniform” Oh dear. My face heated up in embarrassment, but I decided to put it aside for appearance’s sake, so I raised my eyebrow at her.

“Who are you?”

“Name’s Lucy Carlyle. Very polite girl you’ve got here” She said as she ruffled Juniper’s freshly combed hair “You must be Anthony Lockwood, her dad. Though, you look kinda young to be a father”

And she looked much too young to be a fully licensed teacher, let me tell you!

“Yes, she is my daughter” I said putting my best business smile “Can I speak with the principal?”

“Headmistress Munro is not here right now” She said as she turned and guided us to the classroom, which’s floor was covered in colorful foam, with tiny table and chairs here and there. There were toys bins on one side of the room and bookshelves on the other, plus a TV on one of the walls “But I’m assuming there’ll be a few things you want to know before leaving Juniper in our care”

“Yes, are you a fully licensed teacher? Have you been trained in child psychology?”

“I’m majored in it” She said proudly “Mrs Jessica told us about your daughter, man, she’ll be okay here”

“What kind of snacks do you provide the kids with?”

“Biscuits, tea, milk, fruit, sometimes cake, and for those who stay in the afternoon hours, we give them a healthy meal at midday, its all supervised by the nutritionist” She listed off by memory and smiled “And, because I know you’ll ask, we do provide gluten-free options. But I see she brought her own lunch box”

“Daddy, can I play with the toys?” I heard Juniper ask quietly beside me.

“In a moment, darling” I pointed to the toy bins and eyed it suspiciously “How often are those cleaned?”

“We clean all the toys before morning starts, after class hours, during nap time and whenever any of them gets too dirty” Lucy took a doll from the bin my daughter her been eyeing and gave it to me so I could inspect it. I guess it was decent “She is your first child, isn’t she? That’s why you’re so, neurotic?” The teacher asked me with a smile.

I tried my best to look offended off my cavalries, but ended up sighing and racking a hand through my hair. My worries passed from leaving my daughter in this place to leaving my daughter with this careless woman. Why had Kipps suggested this place?

“I just want my daughter to be safe” I muttered. She rolled her eyes and shook her head, then patted my shoulder in empathetic manner.

“It alright, that’s what every parent wants, but you’re making this place look like some kind of horror movie orphanage, and I think you’re scaring her” I looked down to my little Juniper. She was wearing her Sleeping Beauty dress, her favorite Disney princess, with little dress shoes and pink socks. Her hand was still in mine, gripping it tightly in her own seek for comfort.

“Well, I’ll leave you to say your goodbyes, class will start in a few minutes” Lucy turned around and walked out of the room, calling for the kids to get inside.

I kneeled down on the foamed ground and cupped my daughter’s cheeks, her tiny hands coming to my hands.

“Daddy loves you, ok?” I said as reassuring as I could manage. June nodded her head firmly “If anything happens, if you’re not comfortable or if someone’s not being nice with you, just tell someone to call me and I’ll be here to pick you right away, alright?” Again she nodded her little head “Be nice”

“I will, daddy” I hugged her tightly and covered her forehead in kisses, making her giggle adorably. To pull away from the hug was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but it eventually had to end. I stood my full height and turned to the teacher once again.

“I’ll leave you my number so you can call me if my daughter needs anything” I said, still in a business manner, but she still looked as cool as if she was at the beach. Goddamit, what do I have to do to make this woman to understand that my daughter was no joke?! “Give me your number as well”

“All right” Lucy took a piece of paper and wrote her number there, accepting the work card I gave her in which I wrote my number “Try calling at 10:00 or 12:00, that’s when we have playtime and lunch, and if you want to call during afternoon, I’d say you do between 3:00 and 4:00, we do arts and crafts then and play outside. I can’t assure you I’ll always be able to pick up, but if I don’t, just call the school”

“Well, if Juniper needs anything and I can’t pick up, just call Lockwood and Co.; my secretary will get me”

“Oh, you’re a lawyer?” Now, this information usually worked when you wanted to make someone respect you or fear you, and that was what I wanted; for her to understand that I was not all smiles and jokes when it came to my daughter. However, she didn’t seem the slightly bit affected by that knowledge, and only smiled again “That’s great! Well, I’d love to keep chatting, but class is in session, so I have to ask you to leave”

With one last glance at my baby girl playing sitting with her blanky on her lap, I walked out of the classroom. Once I was back in my car, I sighed worriedly and allowed myself to cry a little. Only a little.