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licorice-and-rum · 7 months ago

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More Snape Slander guys!!!

Lol, I truly, really love having a reason to add to my already 15-pages-long rant of Snape Slander, so let’s go:

Okay, I’m going to be posting this as a different post but this is an answer to some arguments that someone made in this post (I’ll tag them below, I just hate to have repostings on my profile - or, if any kind soul could tag them I'd appreciate, this is their post, read at your own discretion [it's terrible, though], I really need to get some sleep rn). If you’re interested in reading more about my not really favorable view of Snape, there’s also my character analysis here.

So let’s begin, shall we (oh, and by the way, I am as educated as you were with me)?

Interesting that you think that my post is bullshit, love, because I think your arguments are ludicrous, to say the least. I wasn’t going to bother with a response but I think it’s only right I add some critical skills and point out that many of your points are already taken care of in my original post – something you’d know if you had read it and understood it.

Anyway, your whole argument is based on the fact that no legal system would consider Snape guilty which… okay?

Because the judiciary system is completely fair and absolves only people who should be absolved. It is not at all used as a political tool to advance the very corrupted system we all live in, as noted by the contrast between the speed with which the ICJ issued Putin’s prison mandate but delayed Netanyahu’s prison mandate for months. It’s not like most of the people locked up in jails in America are black and poor despite the criminality rates showing white men as more likely to commit crimes such as rape, child abuse, kidnapping, and feminicide.

It’s not like every and each judiciary system serves a capitalist political agenda. A very white, patriarchal, European political agenda.

And about that, which judiciary system are we talking about? Mine? Yours? The UK’s? The International Court of Law? The wizarding world's? Because of course, there’s a difference between all of them and even if you’re right, what does it proves? What does it prove that a white, fascist man with connections to the most privileged in the society (rich purebloods and Dumbledore at the same time btw) would be absolved of his crimes in a system that also privileges him?

Because it does privilege him of course: we’re talking about a system of oppression that is ingrained in the wizarding world, why would it be any different from the real world? Snape was fighting for the maintenance of a system that is corrupted (and this also includes the judiciary btw) and to keep on the status quo, especially when he was a Death Eater but also when he was on Dumbledore’s side.

He might not have been targeting muggleborns as he once was when he was young but changing his choice of victims doesn’t change the fact that he’s using his societal privilege to continue the oppressive system and cycles of abuse he upholds so perfectly since he was a kid. A fucking role model, to be honest.

I mean, using his teacher position to condone bullying and terrorize children, who are a social minority and are in a position of vulnerability in relation to his place as a professor? Ring any bells?

And don’t come with me with the “but he saved them all the time” argument. He took on that role because he wanted to, he did it because he chose to, and as a professor, it was his responsibility to care for his students’ wellbeing (not that he does much besides keeping them alive for enough time to traumatize them on his way out). I imagine what a role like that would entangle in a magical school where children have potential guns in their hands all the time – sounds a bit like a security hazard to me even without the whole genocidal maniac persecuting one of them, to be honest. It’s like a parent wanting laurels for actually doing their responsibility, it’s shameful.

Or, I don’t know, using his higher position in the social hierarchy to expel the only competent teacher of the children he was supposed to look out for because of his lower societal status as a werewolf and continuously using that to make them feel bad in Order reunions, over and over again using his privilege as a non-werewolf as a tool to express his well-placed resentment?

The legal point of view is the real bullshit.

“He paid his debt to society” and now he’s free to do whatever the hell he wants because he chose to take vengeance on his ex-best friend’s murder (that he also had a hand in) even if it means that he gets to use his privilege against others exactly like he did in the past – just not on muggleborns because last time he did it, his feelings got hurt. But *these new marginalized people* he can beat up because that’s not the same thing at all.

You say that “redemption within society isn’t about changing your ideology” but forget to question why. Is it perhaps because the people who are actually let go always seem to be the fascist one who upholds what capitalism needs them to uphold? In contrast, of course, with the people who actually do the right thing regardless of legality and are persecuted their whole lives because of it.

Plus, you don’t take into account what is the effect of it, right? Why should we ever worry about someone’s ideology if they paid their time? It’s not like their ideology reflects on what they think and how they act in and affect society. It’s not like it can do any harm by perpetuating and encouraging these beliefs by, I don’t know, taking a racist education and using it to argue in favor of colonization and occupation of non-white countries because your group has been victimized by the same people that think you and those non-white communities are garbage, or taking on a job that involves children and condones bullying and slurs being thrown at the marginalized kids of his school.

Of course not.

And you say that “the system Rowling portrays isn’t fascist because it lacks the economic and social foundations to support that definition” but forgets also that it doesn’t really matter whether is a bad or good representation because it’s still a representation of it. You can’t smell smoke, feel your eyes burning, suffocate on it, and say there isn’t a fire because you technically weren’t burned.

It's like denying there was a State coup in Brazil in 2016 because the impeachment had “legal ground” (which it didn’t by the way): it’s a lazy attempt to grasp at technicalities to escape the very obvious truth that, regardless of the argument (or, in this case, the literary representation) being good or bad, the facts remain the same.

And the fact is that Rowling wrote the Death Eaters as an analogy to fascism (nazism, actually, but let’s use the general term), and as such, most of the fandom interprets it and internalizes it that way. Thus, her negligence of the societal and economic portrayal (although I would question the need for an economic portrayal in a children’s book) does nothing to further any argument at all, not when the truth is that it doesn’t matter that the portrayal is lacking: it’s enough to be understood as such by the masses and thus it becomes a moot point to make.

Severus and every single Death Eater is a fascist because they propagate, believe in, and are violent in the name of fascist ideology. That their group is not represented as a populist movement or that the wizarding world is not on the brink of its economic collapse to sustain that populist background is of little consequence to the average reader and their interpretation of the problem.

Plus, fascism is a concept that should apply to any social variation of the same movement. You sound like my college professor saying my class should call Bolsonaro a fascist because fascism is a concept used in a very tight set of rules – which is bullshit.

Although I had already taken all that into consideration in my previous post. You’d know that if you knew my arguments.

Now, you said that “redemption is about regretting what has happened and paying for it” and that’s interesting because, you see, that’s not what it is at all, not in every legal system, nor when we’re talking about narratives and writing.

In Brazil’s legal system, for example, our judiciary system is about social revitalization. Prison is not a place we send someone as a punishment, it’s not about paying a debt to society or being punished for what they’ve done. It’s about giving them the tools to not repeat their crimes once they come back to society, and that’s not a test Snape would be passing anytime soon because redemption from being a fascist would be to let go of fascist views.

In writing, on the other hand, an author has certain control over their character, which means that their portrayal is the author’s responsibility. A Redemption Arc is not about judging someone’s actions and applying a penalty, it’s about allowing your character to develop substantially throughout the narrative. They need to go from what they are in the beginning to a better version of themselves throughout the rest of the story and that’s certainly not what happens to Snape.

Again, refocusing your bullying to fit other vulnerable groups does not equal betterment in any way, shape of form.

Oh, I really love this one: “His ‘sentence’ was 17 years of self-imposed prison and life-threatening service, which is far more than any collaborator with a terrorist group would face in any real-world court.”

Seventeen years of which exactly 14 of those he spent being a professor in the most important schools of magic in the UK, being respected by his community, well-fed, having a probably copious amount of galleons in his bank account to do whatever the hell he wanted to, and still wallowing in his own misery and self-imposed (as you kindly pointed out) emotional torture living in his childhood home to go back to a castle and bully children at his leisure instead of bettering himself as a human being and actually putting some work towards self-improvement as to not, I don’t know, perpetuate cycles of abuse that ultimately led him towards that mess of a life he got for himself.

You’ll excuse me if I don’t find his journey that impressive from where I’m standing. He made his bed, he can sleep in it or try to do something about it. And, to be honest, I have little to no respect for people who do nothing about their own misery.

Then, he used three and something of those doing something useful but ultimately a sorry attempt at a Redemption Arc. Snape’s big, bold actions in the name of his love for Lily are not something I see as useless, they’re pretty heroic but it doesn’t matter because that’s not what my character analysis is about.

What I try to bring to light (and what you sincerely lost in the reading) is that there is no Redemption Arc for a fascist unless they are no longer fascist at all, and even so, there is some degree of immorality in portraying them as redeemable at all. But if you’re gonna attempt it, you need to be responsible and actually redeem them, ideology and all.

We’re talking about a book, a narrative that will be read by thousands of people, that will be example and insidiously have an effect on how people see the world. Condoning fascist ideology because they don’t persecute *this specific vulnerable minority* anymore (ignore that they do persecute others btw) and did some heroic things for the “good side” because they felt wronged by the “bad side” and not really for basic human decency is not impressive. Or worthy of praise.

Or basis for admiration.

And as for your account on “In any real-world war, he would not only have been honored and considered a national hero—he’d have a hundred movies and documentaries made about him. He’d be an icon.” – so do countless others who are not even remotely deserving of any kind of admiration or having their memories preserved in that sense.

I should know, the number of novellas and documentaries and songs and History lesson materials and street names in my city alone that are homages to “national heroes” that “helped” the poor people or some other minority while massacring indigenous peoples, selling out our land to big corporations and the agribusiness, censored and persecuted artists and journalists in their time, and so on are actually crazy in Brazil.

National heroes are only national heroes because they serve the political narrative our system needs them to serve, darling, otherwise, they are forgotten and even villainized, make no mistake of that.

“Politically, I’m sorry, but I’m not going to call a working-class boy a fascist when he ends up in a nest of far-right extremists simply because they’re the only ones who treat him well”

Interesting that you should mention Snape as a working-class boy – like class traitors don’t exist? Granted, the expression is mostly used to define cops but that’s no different, although I would call it a bit hypocritical of you to use Snape’s class to defend him when you accuse (rightfully so, of course) Rowling of not portraying well the economical part of fascism.

And “the only ones who treat him well”? Really? Lily apparently doesn’t exist in your reality. Or better yet, you’ll tell me she’s not a good friend and didn’t treat him well enough and all the misogynistic gross and stupid points snape apologists make when you’re scrambling to save your fave? Please, if that is it, spare me.

Oh, and by the way, the part you didn’t read at all on my very thorough analysis:

“The truth is, even with all the undeniable good Snape did as he worked as a spy, he was a Death Eater for his conviction, and at the end of the day it doesn’t matter why he chose to become one.

At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter that he was neglected and abused by his parents, or that he was bullied in school, or that his crush didn’t reciprocate his feelings: he still became a Death Eater, he chose to become one. And that is unforgivable. It is unforgivable because it means he supported and actively worked for a system of thinking that ridiculed, persecuted, tortured, and murdered hundreds, if not thousands, of innocent people. He advocated for a political view that has no regard for human life, that perpetuates the abuse he suffered firsthand — just in a slightly different direction. He didn’t just not break his cycle of abuse, he actively perpetuated it. Advocated for it.

And don’t get me wrong: I’m not saying here that the abuse Snape went through isn’t important at all: there is definitely something to be said about the preying of supremacist groups for young isolated men who feel left out and emasculated. But that doesn’t mean Snape gets to be absolved for his own choices because that’s what they were: his choices. He chose to become a Death Eater, he chose to uphold the cycles of abuse he had been a victim to not long before, he chose to protect it even in the face of people — good people — telling him that it wasn’t a good thing.

That’s my point, actually: Snape may have been preyed upon by the blood supremacy ideology as a teen but at some point, he chose to be influenced by it more than by millions of other influences around him. He wasn’t completely isolated or ignorant of the world to the point that the only influence he could possibly choose was the blood supremacy one, no: he had people telling him the contrary and still chose to follow blood supremacy. So, no, it’s not forgivable that he chose to become a Death Eater because he did know better than that, his very friendship with Lily proved it.”

Oh, and let’s be very real here: “the rich, left-leaning aristocratic kids bully him for not meeting their social standards”

First of all, I brought the Marauders into my analysis as little as I could because I could destroy Snape’s character without even needing them. Now, if bullies like James and Sirius are actually better in their “social standards” (human decency is more like it, actually) as you so nicely put it, then I have no idea why you bother to defend Snape at all. I don’t have time, nor patience to explain that believing people are equal and deserve equal respect is the most basic thing you can do as a human being and if Severus doesn’t even manage that, his class or trauma has little to do with it, his character on the other hand...

Many people have trauma, as I already pointed out, and many people were lulled by fascist ideology but not all of them chose to give in to it. His choice is his responsibility, don’t ever deny that or fool yourself into thinking it’s some kind of forced brainwashing. It isn’t, and even if it is, it doesn’t matter as much as the fact that he’s an adult who should know better than to condemn people to die or think less of them because of things they cannot control.

And even entertaining you're crazy notion that Snape's not actually a fascist (he is) it doesn't really matter if he believes it if he joins a group that advocates for it.

Plus, you should really start thinking about what kind of idiotic ideology you tolerate just because of “trauma”. Fuck him and his trauma, I couldn’t care less if Snape was bullied because he lacks human decency because the truth, so eloquently put by my fellow countryman, is that “a fascist’s hat is a hammer; all suffering is not enough; and the swastika has to be hit until it turns into a pinwheel.” And by lovely miss Lyudmila Pavlichenk: “Not men, fascists.”

And yes, I think anyone left-leaning is better than anyone in the far-right any time of the day, not really sorry if I actually understand politics and how important it is to preserve the lives of people in a system that is designed to leave them in an indecent condition. A system that Snape fought to preserve ideologically and politically for the earlier years of his life without so much of a written recognition of the real garbage it all is.

Plus, let’s be very clear again, I wasn’t talking at all about the Marauders when I criticized Snape. You brought them into the discussion, not me. I could very well cite other characters who are not as terrible as Snape or bullies like teenager James and Sirius (and I’m gonna ignore that you included Peter and Remus into the ‘aristocratic’ and ‘rich’ context because I don’t think even a Snape apologist would be that idiotic although your hashtags beg for me to think otherwise), and still manage some fucking human decency despite their traumas.

Garbage is that you think, at fucking 28 years old, that fascist ideology is somehow tolerable, or that the legalities of some situation actually account for something other than the political structure of the system, or that admiration equals the deserving of it. Bullshit is you thinking that you can actually beat me on technicalities and that you believe advocating for tolerance over the intolerable is somehow admirable, is to be naïve enough to think the legal system doesn’t obey a political agenda and therefore benefits whoever is on the winning side, which to Snape was both during the two times he was a spy.

He was the one who had nothing to lose, darling. He had no family, no one that he cared about, no one who could even stand him, no one who would mourn him - all through his own merit by the way. And to be honest, no one to pity him either. It's pathetic that that is the truth because he chose so, that the only thing that "saves" him are a few memories of an abusive friendship.

He was nothing to be admired and never evolved as a human being. He gave himself to a cause that kept him commode most of the time and acted only out of the fact that he was wronged by the other side. The fact that if it had been Neville who was chosen he would never have turned is shameful as a human being, the fact that he only kept his students alive but never really took into account their wellbeing is shameful as a professor, the fact that he hated Harry because of all of it is childish and unbecoming for an adult, the fact that he bullied children is shameful as an adult.

And none of that was redeemed because he was a spy. He could be a spy and a fucking decent person. But he wasn’t, and he wasn’t by choice, so fuck him.

And, to end with this tiresome and, honestly, easy as fuck to refute, tirade of useless arguments, “What I’m saying is that I don’t give a damn about moral niceties.” – Clearly. Just as clear as your ignorance of what “moral niceties” really mean in this context.

PS: look, 22 pages now! I’m expecting more to be added…

PS2: Tbh, you'd think this person thinks the only people to ever fight Voldemort were the Marauders for all they seem to argue

PS3: This person really confirms everything I know about the relativism of European people for dangerous and prejudiced political views.

#snape slander #harry potter #harry potter analysis #the marauders era #marauders era #snivellus #fuck severus snape tbh #fuck snape apologists #Snape is trash #bookworm #harry potter marauders #james potter defense squad #sirius black defense squad #Dumbledore defense squad #tbh I lost my patience there but fuck it #they deserved it #eat the rich

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tinythiefalex · 2 months ago

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Ouran's Giant Host Club Episode 2

The Job of a High School Host

Episode 1 Next

Guess who finished with their finals and finally got to finish this! I had so much fun writing this one, and I really really want to get at least 1 more episode written before summer ends. This is part 1/3 of the 2nd episode. Part 2 will be out on Saturday. I hope y'all enjoy!

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The Ouran library. A quiet building on the school grounds with the largest collection of books Haruhi had ever seen. Books on every subject you could ever imagine. This should be Haruhi’s favorite place in school, but…

As Haruhi went to turn to the next page in her book, a giant’s hand passed above and turned the page for her.

“Senpai,” Haruhi groaned, exasperated. She craned her neck up to Tamaki, who was sitting at her table, directly behind where she was standing. “I can turn the pages myself.”

“I don’t mind,” Tamaki smiled. The book was made for giants, so it was easily a dozen times bigger than Haruhi was, and it had to be propped up so she could read without standing on the pages. Normally, she would insist on studying alone, but she didn’t bother fooling herself. She wasn’t strong enough to open any of the hardcover textbooks, let alone get them off the shelves. As much as she hated to admit it, she needed Tamaki’s help, again. And the prick was enjoying every second of it. Haruhi felt her eye twitch in frustration at the stupid smile Tamaki had, looking down at her from where his head was propped on his hand. Does this guy ever go to his own classes?

As Haruhi turned and sat back down in front of the pages, Tamaki couldn’t help the huge grin he had as he stared at the little human, reading a book with letters as big as her hand. She was just so adorable.

Haruhi hated having the giant staring down at her, so she tried to focus on her textbook. It was difficult though, and not just because of the staring. Haruhi tried to pull her uniform’s blazer tighter around her as a shiver went down her body. Winter had just ended, but it still felt freezing outside to Haruhi. The school had a good heating system, but her skin and jacket were much thinner than the giants’, so the cold of the building affected her a lot more. Tamaki must have noticed, because just as another chill went down Haruhi’s arms, she felt a giant palm press lightly against her side, the fingers curling in just enough to not block the pages of her book.

She glanced up at Tamaki with a frown. “I’m fine, Senpai. You don’t have to do that,” she grumbled as she scooted away from the warm hand.

Tamaki just chuckled and moved his hand back against Haruhi’s side. “I know.”

Haruhi just sighed and resigned herself to leaning against the boy’s palm. At least it wasn’t as cold anymore.

10 short minutes later, a bell rang out across the school. Tamaki wasted no time in gathering the books and scooping Haruhi up into his hands. Haruhi grabbed onto one of his fingers to keep herself from toppling over from the sudden movements. She grumbled to herself out of principle, but she couldn’t fault Tamaki for that. She doubted he even realized how much the movement affected her as he rushed to the club room.

Once she got her bearings she called up to Tamaki, “What’s going on, Senpai? I know you love the club but this is a lot of excitement, even for you.”

“I’ve got a special surprise waiting for our guests,” he lightly nudged her little shoulder, “You’re gonna love it!”

Haruhi held on tight as Tamaki practically sprinted down the hallways. The movement was disorienting, but at least the trip was quicker than normal. Before she knew it, they had arrived at the door.

Though Tamaki wanted to fling the doors open in his eagerness, he controlled himself enough to open the door slowly for a more dramatic reveal.

The clubroom was completely jungle themed. There were trees covering nearly the entire room, enough so that the walls couldn’t be seen. Many of the trees were real, Haruhi noted, but most of the other plants were not, instead being scaled-up versions of tropical flora, assumedly to match with the giants and their visitors.

Her eyes widened as she saw a huge snake slither its way up one of the tree trunks, before quickly realizing that it was also fake, some sort of robotic contraption. She felt the tension leave her shoulders. At least they have some reasonable safety in mind, she thought. Though she wouldn’t put it past them to have some real animals in the clubroom, at least these ones didn’t pose her any threat.

Finally, she noticed her clubmates. As Tamaki took a few steps into the room, the rest of the boys greeted them with a synchronized, “Welcome!” as flower petals fluttered around them. Each of them had on a unique, Bali-inspired outfit that seemed much too revealing to offer them any resistance against the cold. With this thought, however, Haruhi noticed that the room was considerably warmer than anywhere else she had been that day.

In her confusion, Haruhi barely took note when Tamaki set her down on a long, wooden table, is this a tiki bar?, and ran off, presumably to change into his own costume.

The twins looked down at her with mock disappointment. “You two finally made it. Haruhi, you’re so late.”

Haruhi’s eye twitched as she answered, “My study period just ended, and I could be wrong, but my calendar says it’s still early spring.”

At that, Tamaki slid back in the room, now donning a “Bali King” costume to match with the others. “Hiding under a kotatsu table fearing the cold is nonsense,” he said with a proud grin, “and besides, the heating system we have is the best.” Haruhi groaned at his obnoxious display.

“Do you have a problem with the way we run our club, Haruhi?” Kyoya asked without looking away from his clipboard, “Be careful what you say; you’re relying on us to make it to graduation, remember?”

Haruhi flinched at the brief, intimidating glance Kyoya sent her. Even if the snakes were real, the host club’s vice president would still be the scariest thing there.

She decided to focus back on Tamaki, looking him up and down while not-so-subtly judging his flowy, revealing clothing. Tamaki noticed her attention and took out a fan, striking another pose with it.

“Gentlemen don’t bundle up in bulky clothing,” he declared as the twins struck their own poses around him. A loud laugh from Honey made Haruhi realize that he and Mori were now running around the room. “It may be chilly early spring out there in the real world, but here at the club, we want to surprise our chilly little kittens,” Tamaki mussed up Haruhi’s hair with a gentle fingertip, which she tried to push away, “with a warm, tropical paradise!”

Before Haruhi could get her footing back from the ruffling, Tamaki swept her up to his chest in another princely stance. Haruhi hated being dragged into poses like that.

Tamaki took no notice of Haruhi’s discomfort. “Oh, yes! We’ve turned this place into Nirvana,” he continued as the human tried to push away from him, “A balmy, tropical island of everlasting summer!” He was holding Haruhi right up against the golden collar of his robe, and the metal made her even colder than before, ironically defeating Tamaki’s claimed purpose of the room’s set up.

“That’s funny ‘cause I feel a massive chill right now.” And she wasn’t talking about the temperature.

She jumped as an animatronic chameleon suddenly shot its tongue out into the air. Tamaki noticed and chuckled, curling his fingers a bit more around her. Haruhi was getting very sick of this club very fast.

THE HOST CLUB IS NOW OPEN FOR BUSINESS

Haruhi stood on the Tiki Bar, looking out to the other members and their guests. She had no scheduled appointments for that moment, so she didn’t have much to do. Tamaki had offered her a human-sized chair, but she declined, not wanting to see what kind of cutesy furniture Tamaki had purchased for her.

To the human’s dismay, Kyoya did not have any scheduled meetings at the time either, and so stood right next to the bar. He barely acknowledged her presence as he scribbled something down onto his clipboard, but she was still no more comfortable around the giant.

“I see you watching the others, Haruhi.” She flinched as Kyoya suddenly addressed her. So he did realize I was here. Awesome, she thought sarcastically.

“That’s clever of you,” Kyoya continued. “Observational learning will ideally help you raise your request rating.”

Haruhi couldn’t help a small scoff at that. “What am I supposed to learn from these guys?” She said, crossing her arms and turning her head away from the giant.

At her words, Kyoya stopped writing. He lowered his pencil to the human, using the eraser to angle her head back towards the other club members.

Haruhi’s breath caught in her throat as the pencil forced her to look where Kyoya wanted her to.

“Just watch.” He said in a slightly demanding tone. “Attaining different strategies can help you appeal to a wider range of guests.” Haruhi hesitated on the thought of disobeying him. He really was terrifying, though she couldn’t even tell if he meant to be that way.

She watched Tamaki first. He was with 3 ladies, all already thoroughly enraptured by his princely attributes and poetic words.

“What heartlessness,” he said elegantly, “Even with my lustrous skin shining like brilliant ivory, exposed by my Balinese king outfit, I am no more than a slave before my goddess. I kneel before you and swear my loyalty.” He leaned in close to one of the girls, holding her chin delicately as her face burned red.

“Tamaki…” she swooned.

“Lucky…” the other girls mumbled with adoration in their eyes.

Haruhi rolled her eyes at the boy’s antics. Even without the size difference in the way, Haruhi didn’t think she could ever be that physical with any of her guests. The mental image of her even attempting that, especially at her size, was nothing short of ridiculous to her.

She was pulled out of these thoughts as Tamaki continued. “Oh, yes, I almost forgot to mention to you ladies. Next week, the Ouran Host Club is sponsoring a party.”

Haruhi looked up at Kyoya in confusion, “We’re throwing a party?”

Before Kyoya could respond, both of their attentions were taken by another guest speaking up to Hikaru and Kaoru. “What kind of party is it going to be? Is it going to be formal?” she asked.

“Yes,” Hikaru answered casually, “In fact, we’ve rented the school’s largest hall.”

“It’s the perfect place for dancing,” Kaoru finished.

Then, Hikaru leaned in close to the other boy, practically draping himself over where his brother was sitting. “But I really wanted to spend some alone time with you, Kaoru.” Kaoru blushed slightly. “Don’t be upset, Hikaru. I know exactly how you feel.”

They seem to flirt with each other more than with the girls. Haruhi thought with a grimace. Weird… She knew they were just acting for their guests, but it was still a strange sight to see. The ladies seem to enjoy it though, as they chattered excitedly at the boys.

Haruhi turned back to Kyoya, “The guests seem to be even more worked up than they usually are.”

“Showing some skin proves popular with the ladies.” He said with a noncommittal expression.

“So, are you the one who came up with this ‘tropical paradise’ idea?” Haruhi asked accusingly. This idea was dumb enough to be Tamaki’s, but she felt it was working too well to be solely his doing.

“I have no decision making authority,” he said, going back to writing, “All of the club’s policies have been laid out by the club’s king, Tamaki.”

“But,” he glanced sideways at the human with a small grin, “I guess there’s no harm in admitting to casually slipping a Bali photo book onto his desk.”

Haruhi furrowed her eyebrows. So, he’s the real brains behind the operation. It seemed Kyoya had even more power that Haruhi had given him credit for. The thought unnerved her slightly.

Suddenly, a loud, youthful voice proclaimed “Ta-da!”

Haruhi looked to see Honey with a lei around his neck, showing it off to the girls at his table.

“Oh, you’re so cute, Honey!” they cooed over him accordingly. That excited smile that never seemed to completely leave the boy’s face widened.

“Hi, ladies!” he greeted. “I love these Balinese flowers. We had them flown in!”

Soon, his companion arrived with some fruit for the guests. “Takashi!” Honey exclaimed, rushing up Mori’s side to place an identical lei around his neck before hugging onto his shoulder. “There! We match!” The girls swooned and ‘awwwwed’ at the sight.

I’m still thoroughly confused by the two of them, Haruhi thought. She turned to look up at Kyoya again to ask him what exactly she was supposed to learn from all this, before being interrupted by another voice joining them.

“Um, Haruhi?” one giant girl asked, having walked up to the tiki bar with another girl without the human noticing.

They were standing so close, Haruhi had to strain her neck a bit to look up to their faces. She took a few steps back before turning fully towards them.

“Aren’t you going to wear a tropical outfit like the other boys?” the young lady finished her question.

“Yeah, I’d like to see that!” the other chimed in.

Haruhi held her hands out awkwardly, blushing a bit. “Oh, well, no I… I just don’t think it’s appropriate to wear anything but early spring attire in early spring, y’know?” She hated the idea of wearing something with so little cover. Not to mention, even with the heating system, Haruhi knew she would get chilly in such a bare outfit.

Just then, Tamaki appeared. “But we have one ready for you, Haruhi! I think you’ll like it!” He exclaimed as he held up a tiny mannequin with a Balinese queen costume, matching his own kingly attire, “You and I are a pair!”

Haruhi hated that idea even more.

“No thanks,” she said flatly. What was this guy even thinking? What was the point of pretending she’s a boy if Tamaki kept insisting on dressing her up like a girl’s doll?

“Wow Haruhi,” one of the girls giggled, “you’re really faithful to the different seasons, aren’t you?” Thankfully they didn’t seem too upset that the little human wouldn’t match with the theme.

“I think that’s great!” another said, “I hope we’re lucky enough that the cherry blossoms are in full bloom on the night of the party.

“Imagine dancing among the cherry blossoms,” the girl blushed with her eyes closed, lost in her own fantasy, “It’s so dreamy.”

“You really think so?” Haruhi said with a smile, oddly elated to see the girls so happy. “You know, ladies, I think it’s so cute when you dream like that.”

The butterflies in the girls’ stomachs matched the ones fluttering around the room as they stared down at the host. She looked so tiny compared to everything on the bar, and their eyes shone with adoration. Haruhi really was a promising rookie, whether she chose to realize it or not.

Another young woman then joined them. “Excuse me,” she said politely, “I hate to disturb, but I believe I have an appointment.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Haruhi apologized, “You must be my first client, Miss… um…”

“My name’s Kanako. Kanako Kasugazaki” she finished for her. Although she wore a kind smile, there was a strange, distant look in her eyes that Haruhi couldn’t help but notice, especially since the giant’s eyes were bigger than the human’s head.

The young lady sat down at the tiki bar. She put a finger under Haruhi’s chin, gently tilting the little head up to look at her.

“You’re even cuter than I expected,” Kanako said as she leaned in close. “I’ve decided. From now on, you’re going to be my new favorite host, Haruhi.”

Despite the girl’s face taking up nearly all of her vision, Haruhi managed to notice Tamaki’s double take at Kanako’s comment.

#Ouran’s Giant Host Club #g/t #giant/tiny #g/t community #g/t writing #sfw g/t #ohshc g/t #ouran high school host club g/t #giant!tamaki #ouran host club g/t #tiny!haruhi

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rocknrollsalad · 3 months ago

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rating: teen cw: kids, magic, impure thoughts in the children's section of the library tags: the kids aren't steddie's kids, they are involved in the story though, slight of hand, steve is smart, steve is a cling and good boyfriend, eddie really likes watching steve be smart, eddie also likes watching steve with kids, this all words for eddie, word count: 2,248

written for steddiebingo's Get Lucky Card "magic" (just posted way too late)

read it on ao3

The greatest enemy in Eddie’s life was time. Not jocks, not conformity or the suburban moms with their panties in a bunch about satan, not even the horrors from other dimensions they didn’t really speak about. None of those things did as much damage to Eddie’s day-to-day life as clocks and calendars did.

He never knew what day it was. Even when those were important things like trash day or doctor’s appointments. Never mind the smaller increments. Days were hard enough to keep track of, but “see you in an hour” was a made up concept.

It led to a lot of assumptions that Eddie was passionate or overzealous. Showing up to play Dungeons and Dragons three hours early and then spending that time working on the campaign looked dedicated and not a safety measure to not forget when six o’clock was.

Workarounds like that were great and got Eddie far in life. Especially now that he was fully free of the militant school system and its bell system trying to tell Eddie where to be and when. Libraries, though, were his Achilles heel. Time didn’t exist the same way in a library as it did elsewhere.

So it wasn’t entirely Eddie’s fault that he went in to get some information real quick for a campaign, and it turned into two hours. He really, really wasn’t to blame that Steve came along. Not that he was complaining about the newly acquired shadow, but when Eddie came by himself, no one cared about how long they were there. No one was left bored and waiting.

On paper, they were so different. Before getting to know Steve, Eddie would have thought Steve would have burnt up crossing the threshold of a librarian the same way others expected Eddie to in church. Really, he was just happy to be along for the ride and wanted to go wherever it was Eddie was.

It got worse when they decided to start dating. Steve was a little less “I’m just happy to tag along” to “well, I’m coming too, right?”. Something phrased as a question but only had one answer. Eddie could understand why that annoyed some people but he loved it. Ate up every codependent second and would happily take Steve with him everywhere, no questions asked. It was the perfect arrangement, really.

Other than the guilt of saying that something would take ten minutes tops and turned into two hours. While Eddie was happily engrossed in knights and magic, Steve was surely sitting around bored. Watching and waiting for Eddie. Though Eddie would have blamed him if he’d just left, gone home to be bored there instead.

With his books stacked haphazardly on a nearby cart to be reshelved, Eddie wandered the rows of books as he tried to guess where Steve would be. Asleep in the chair next to Eddie was the first guess, but that was easily ruled out. Periodicals and talking to someone at the front desk came up empty. Same with playing with the microfiche.

Just when Eddie was going to give up, to see if they could page Steve like a lost husband in the grocery store, he heard a bunch of kids screaming and squealing. Why that seemed like the place to go, Eddie didn’t understand, but he was compelled to find out what was going on. More importantly, to find out why he thought Steve was responsible.

And his gut wasn’t wrong. In the middle of the primary colored corner of the library, Steve sat on a stool that looked like a giant block. There were seven kids sitting on the floor around him, hanging on his every word. They ranged in age, a few were clearly siblings, but all of them were unsupervised and apparently in Steve’s care.

This happened far too many places, far too many times. Even within the Hellfire Club, there were members who imprinted on Steve and followed him everywhere. Steve had this power, and anyone younger than him was drawn to it like a magnet. While Eddie hated it with Hellfire, he loved it at the doctor’s office. No screaming and crying child was a match for Steve Harrington.

One of these kids probably came running up to Steve, sensing he was there, and asked him to read a book. No way Steve was going to say no to that and now he had every kid in the building sitting in front of him, giving their full, undivided attention in a way their parents probably dreamed of.

Steve was balancing a book in his lap, studying the page it was open to, as everyone else sat quietly. After a beat, he looked at his hands and closed one, then the other. Eddie couldn’t figure out what was going on but watching Steve solve whatever this problem was was endearing. The thought process was so visible, especially as it started to click.

Their friends gave Steve such shit for being stupid but he just processed differently. Sometimes slower, sure, but watching him here so clearly solve some sort of problem made Eddie want to punch each and every one of their shared friends. Steve was smart; they just never gave him time.

It was hard to know how long Eddie was supposed to lurk around bookshelves and watch, but he wasn’t ready to interrupt so he folded his arms and leaned on one of the child-height bookshelves. He, at least, needed to know what all the thinking was for. And Steve needed to follow through on whatever he was working on. It was worth sulking around for a bit.

With a hand on the book, Steve leaned to the side and grabbed his wallet. Soon enough, he had a quarter in his hand. The kids were impressed enough with Steve having money, he didn’t need to do anything else. Two dollar bills and these kids thought they were talking to a millionaire.

Once they got over the wonder of Steve being so cool as to have money, they all asked if they could have it. Eddie knew the look on Steve’s face as he tried to figure out if he had enough quarters to give each of them. God, he was disgusting sometimes.

Once he had disappointed all the children by keeping his money, Steve held the quarter up again to show it off. After minimal flourish and a lot of processing, he took the quarter into his palm and covered it with all his fingers. Each closed one by one until the coin was gone from sight.

All at once, the pieces of this puzzle smacked Eddie in the face, and he knew exactly what was going on. Aside from sarcastically, Steve had never done a magic trick for Eddie. No way he was about to do one here. One he learned in seconds, it seemed.

More importantly, this was incredibly attractive. Eddie kind of always wanted to drag Steve into some closet or backroom, but watching him do magic, something that shouldn’t be attractive, only made it worse.

When that hand closed around the quarter, it took Eddie from slightly curious to rabid and frothing at the mouth, biting back comments about what else he knew those fingers could make disappear. Thankfully, no one was paying him any attention right now.

Steve, who was blissfully unaware he was being watched and far too invested in his trick, continued doing whatever he was doing. All of the kids watched in anticipation as Steve showed them the quarter was still in his right hand and nothing in his left.

“Alright, Jessica. What were those magic words?” he asked like some incredibly handsome Mr. Rogers.

“Zibby zabba!” she said, practically jumping to her feet with excitement.

The rest of the kids repeated the “magic words,” and Steve grabbed the quarter with his other hand.

“It’s just in your other hand,” the oldest kid said, trying so hard to be the coolest kid in the room. Eddie laughed because he imagined Steve was exactly like that kid. A taste of his own obnoxious medicine.

“Is it, Tyler?” Steve asked, lacking the trademark snark. He twirled his wrist around to reveal an empty hand. No quarter.

Gasps came from all around, Steve sat so smug, so proud. Dare Eddie say, he was a little too cocky because he gave the hand still hiding the quarter a wave to act like it was empty. It wasn’t clear who was getting more out of this, the kids or Steve.

Whoever was getting the most out of this they were in second place because this was doing everything for Eddie. Barely able to hold back, he let Steve finish the trick. This audience, like the coin, was in the palm of Steve’s hand. Ruining that now would be suck a dick move.

Missing some of the flair and showmanship he’d had up to this point, Steve clapped his hands together, and Eddie saw the slight tip of Steve’s hands, so the coin was now in the hand he’d just shown the kids was empty. Which he then held out and showed the kids the coin had reappeared.

A change in reveal that Eddie hadn’t seen before. It was easy enough, but it meant Steve was improvising. He not only read a paper and immediately learned the trick, but he learned it well enough to put his own spin on it. As impressive as it was hot and led to Eddie imagining Steve performing other tricks.

They could talk about that later. Once Eddie was willing to come to terms with the magic part being just the tiniest bit attractive here. It was supposed to be the attitude, the showmanship, the mastery. Not the David Copperfield shit.

The magic wasn’t the only part of this. For as long as they’d gotten along, Eddie had heard the “kids” call Steve dad. It was a joke that predated Eddie’s involvement and one he was quick to join in on. It was all because Steve cared about his friends, and that was the dumbest reason to mock someone but Steve was definitely well suited to be a dad.

Or Eddie wanted to make him a dad. Maybe that’s why he didn’t like Dustin and Lucas saying “yes, dad” when Steve told them to get home safe or whatever. That was a title Eddie wanted to bestow on Steve. However that worked.

Something they needed to learn about quickly because Steve was definitely suited for parenthood. The way he entertained these children that weren’t his, keeping them (mostly) quiet, very entertained, and engaged was impressive- the real skill here. He was so good with them that it did things to the biological clock Eddie didn’t even know he had.

The kids were on their feet, inspecting the quarter, and Steve held it out for everyone to see. It was deemed real, and Steve was actually magic. None of them seemed to remember the directions to the trick were in Steve’s lap, but that was the wonder of childhood or something. Even though Eddie was rooting for that mouthy boy to point it out.

All of this marked the blessed end to the trick, something Eddie was having a tougher time waiting for as every minute ticked on. He wanted to rush in and take Steve’s hand, rip him from his captive audience, and find the nearest storage room. Maybe come back and check out the magic book for a bit more fun at home.

Things like the presence of children or big-eyed cartoon characters hung on the wall had done plenty to have Eddie minding his p’s and q’s. Wanting to see this through to the end did some of the heavy lifting too, but now that it was done, Eddie was scrambling for anything not to get banished from the library.

The kids were still inspecting Steve’s hands, trying to figure out how he’d pulled it off. It was very “there’s nothing up my sleeve,” except the kids didn’t believe Steve; they had to check it out themselves. He was patient as they poked and prodded and made wild guesses about how it worked or where he kept extra quarters.

Eddie was less patient and he’d finally cracked. Taking the long way around the space, Eddie came up behind Steve and whispered in his ear “If we don’t get home in the next ten minutes, you’re going to have a problem on your hands.”

It took longer for Steve to process what that meant than it did for him to learn how to make a quarter disappear. The blank stare as he processed really only made things worse, though. The eyes of every child were locked on Eddie and he mouthed a “boo” that got half of them. With a wave of his fingers, Eddie dismissed them all to go find his parents. They weren’t about to get in the way of anything, no matter how long it took Steve to process what needed to happen.

“Yeah? What?” Steve stood up, still not a hundred percent sure why they needed to leave, and looked Eddie up and down. Finally, repeating the question with so much judgment and disbelief that Eddie took damage from it.

“What? Really, you’re shocked? Of course. I’ll explain later, we don’t have time now.”

“Did you check out your books?”

“What part of ‘we don’t have the time’ are you not getting, Steven? Let’s. Go-oo!”

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve can do magic #he's a natural #hey everyone come see what i wrote now #i've got another thing i need to post #another to edit #and two things i'm writing!#here we go

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adorebelova · 4 months ago

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Guilty as sin

pre rome trauma Emily prentiss x same age reader

warnings: internalised homophobia, mentions of bad mental health

wlw, men dni

You and Emily had been raised in the same religion-centered communities, your mother's being best friends and work partners you always found yourselves traveling the word together. And with that came the strongest bond. However as you grew you felt something more begin to blossom.

The feeling in your chest when you saw her seemed to spread to your stomach too, like a swarm of drunken butterflies encaged within your ribs. It was an incurable malady which you refused to even acknowledge for what it was, but in the rare moments of weakness you know deep down you didn't want a cure. You were in love. however it could never be. homosexuality is one of the biggest sins, and you knew it. You knew you'd never be able to look your mother in the eyes if you came to terms with what you truly were so you did everything you could to avoid the eventual realisation, hiding the lovesick face behind a veil of friendship.

you were both the outcasts of your class, she being the rebelling teenager with bold black makeup and eccentric hair and you being her quiet sidekick following what she did and said.

As you would lay, sprawled across your bed together reading through bible passages for Sunday school, you felt your eyes drift from the pages infront of you to her lips, plush and red as cherries in the spring and her eyes shining like the stars in the sky, and the way her silver rosary lay so delicately across her chest something you'd find your eyes flickering to systemically as if trying to ingrain the image into your brain. you tried desperately to rid the sinful thoughts clogging every crevice in your suddenly blank mind. Trying to tear your eyes away from the blood red tank top before she took any heed of your matching cheeks. however the thoughts never faded and hours later as you were staring up at the dark ceiling above you you couldn't shake the feeling of how could something so electrifying, so beautiful be so demeritorious? the thoughts whirled around your head knowing the blasphemous mentality was rapidly closing in.

as you made your way through the cast iron gates of the church every Sunday you would always renew the vow never to breathe a word of it until your dying day, not even the confession booth would hear of such lunacy, such absurd fantasies would become the pillow you rest your head upon in the grave.

"Hey, wait up!" Emily's voice calls from behind you, pulling you out of the thoughtful trance you held yourself in.

"Oh hi Em" you reply desperately trying to cling to the last reminance of steadiness in your voice, although it was most definitely in vain.

she links her arm through yours, a skeptical look adorning her sharp features. "Whats up with you?" She asks, the deadly mix of concern and her signature smirk lacing all her words like a deadly poison breaking down your walls almost instantly.

almost

(un)fortunately you are saved by the ringing bells of the church that signal the beginning of mass so you pull away from her and hurry off to find your mother in the congregation, though soon enough you find your eyes scanning the throng of parishioners looking for her once more, her Conservative blouse gave the thousand butterflies a thousand more and thats when you knew you could never just go back to being her friend no matter how much you prayed for it, without ever as much as touching her supple, porcelain skin you were now guilty as sin.

In the coming days you found yourself actively avoiding her company, going as far as to feign sickness to get off school. she had become the tightness in your chest, a permanent toothache, and nothing you did could ever manage to suppress that need to have her as your own. it was like a thousand cuts into your skin every time she crossed your mind and seeing her so cold and closed off without you just poured salt into the gashes.

you weren't used to being without her usually every waking moment was usually spent with her, if not face to face you would be on the phone with her like your life depended on it, and sometimes it did. neither of you were okay but the mutual acknowledgement of the fact made everything so much more okay. and thats when you finally realised. you chose her religiously.

but what were you to do?

you were a girl and so was she, your hands were tied. as you sink back into your pillows the scenarios start dancing through your mind, images of what could, should and would be if only.

the minutes turn into unbearably long hours, characterised by the consistent ticking of the seconds and yet you still couldn't find sleep, it seemed to evade your brain with all its might, but as your breathing starts to slow and your eyes grow heavy a dull 'thud' enters your room.

your eyes scan the darkness before you flick the lamp on beside your bed, they then fix on Emily's figure dramatically thrown on the floor

"so you are alive" she states rhetorically, a frown plastered across her face.

"just ill" you say nonchalantly adding a fake cough at the end to atleast try and be convincing. However your acting skills had no avail.

"Safe to say the oscars aren't waiting for you." She retorts sarcastically her eyes studying your every move. "Now tell me whats actually up"

you freeze

there is no way you could tell her whats actually wrong, those words were cursed to never fall from your lips although they were hot on your tongue. and as the sound of your heart banging against your chest echoes in your ears a slight queasiness builds in your stomach, like the butterflies were slowly being replaced by maggots feasting on every atom of your being leaving you weak and defenceless, unable to formulate a response beyond staring at her like a scratched dvd.

the smirk plays on her lips once again as she raises herself onto her knees infront of you, now eye level. "Forgive me if I'm wrong but..."

and before you can so much as move a muscle her lips are pressed against yours, and your brain goes into overload. the taste of her cherry chapstick floods your brain and you find yourself wishing you could stay like that forever.

but your rational brain knows better.

the jolt as you pull away seems to send her crashing back into reality almost as hard as a skydiver with a broken parachute and the look in her eyes hurts twice as much as any of that could even begin to.

"we can't..." your voice bearly breaks a whisper, your faces mere inches apart.

the look of her pleading face shatters you more, like a mirror falling from its face on the mantle onto the cold stone hearth below, and you wish more than anything to take it all back.

but you can't.

"we'll go to hell!" You murmur against your own best judgement.

her chocolate eyes meet yours for the first time that night and you feel everything as your own reflect in their shining glimmer.

"it would be worth it for a single day with you" her tone is soft against the treat of eternal damnation, making the imminent threat seem not entirely bad and as her lips find contact with yours once more, the butterflies find home in your heart and you finally kiss her back

@hotchn1sswifey

c.ai bot

#emily prentiss #paget brewster #emilyprentiss #emily prentiss angst #emilyprentissangst #emily prentiss fanfiction #emily prentiss fic #emily prentiss fluff #prentissociety works #taylor swift #the tortured poets department #guilty as sin?

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the-kr8tor · 4 months ago

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I THOUGHT I PUT IN A DAILY HOBIE HC YESTERDAY...whatever I gotta get ready to flame everyone else for being in a relationship for valentines day>:) Daily Hobie HC! (dont tell them i may have a tiny...insy weensy crush on someone..) Last week of school, everyone surprisingly quiet as the teacher up front looked through the pile of paper, trying to find everyone's exam papers. You laid your cheek against the cold, hours-in-aircondition-ed desk, giving you reprieve from the hot sun outside. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Hobie laying back in his chair with his eyes closed..lucky bastard. He was seated in front of the AC, giving him full-blast pleasure whenever it was a hot day. As your eyes begin to flutter closed, you notice the teacher gently placing your papers upside down, as to not reveal your mark straight up. With a final exhale of hope, you turn over the page, your eyes meeting a big, red...98%. You immediately sat up straighter, looking through all the pages to see the pride-boosting ticks on questions. Your eyes zero in on Hobie once more, holding up the front page for him to see the fat 98 written on your exam. He smirks in return, smoothly holding up a...98.5, yawning as if it was nothing. Your pride boils into anger as you grit your teeth. How could he beat you by such a little mark? The smug idiot, looking as if it was just a stroll in the damn park. Thank god science was the last period of the day, or else you might've leapt over tables to fight him right then and there. After around 40 minutes of ramblings which weren't important to you, the final bell rang. You were quick to push in your seat and leave, slinging your bag over your shoulder as you scanned the crowd for Hobie. Once you found the familiar glint of tamped-down piercings, your mark was straight. He couldn't catch a glimpse of you through the crowd until you pulled him aside, somehow successfully pinning him against the wall with his shirt balled up in your first. Hobie knew he was an asshole, knew the rage which trickled from every vein in your body whenever he beat you by an inch. The student defeats the master type situation, but the master had a trick to inch the .5% past. After some back and forth teasing, his eyes widened as you cut him off with a firm kiss, your lips pressed against his. Once you pulled away, leaving him (surprisingly) weak in the knees, with the sight of either his or your lipstick being smudged. He reached out, cleaning your face up a bit as he tilted your head to meet his softened gaze, asking if you got everything out of your system with a playful voice. You replied with an equally playful eyeroll, saying you'll hold a grudge against him for this, forever. Hobie was still, very proud of you for getting a 98% on your exam, considering the fact that you missed quite a big chunk of revision due to hospitalizable sickness, giving you a warm forehead kiss as a reward. (Maybe promising some other things later) -🐦‍⬛

Noooo 😞 lmaoo back when I was in hs my friends and I would boo couples from our classroom bc they're all holding hands and having flowers on them 😆 but we were all secretly lonely 🥺

Daily Hobie HC ❤️❤️❤️

Oop 👀

The cheek on top of the cold desk gave me flashbacks lol

HAHHAHAHHA he's hogging all the cool air!

I can imagine that r has a full view of Hobie from where they're sitting

Damnnnn r you so smart! BAHAHHAHAHAHHAHA i knew it!

The fact that r wanted to push everyone aside in the classroom to get back at Hobie 😂 true love? I think so 😆

AHHHHH THEY'RE SO CUTE!!!!!! I can tell that they'll still be together even after graduation!!

Love this au sm

#ask answered #chatting with lovelies #hobie thoughts #hobie headcanons #daily hobie hc!!#🫶🫶🫶#🐦‍⬛ anon

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myloveforhergoeson · 10 months ago

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Online Songs - Chapter 1

Find me on wattpad + ao3!

Chapter 1: Must Have Done Something Right ~ 3k

With shaking hands, Daisy-Mae Denton walked into the Clear Creek High School Public Library.

What was usually a quaint, quiet space to read or sketch over her summer break was filled with the hustle and bustle of other students now that their first day had ended. The crisp smell of comfort and old paper swallowed entirely by the pungent scent of bodies, bodies, and more bodies.

Plenty of her fellow classmates had flooded the space, taking up the sage green couches she loved to curl up on as friend groups caught up, sitting on the floor between the endless rows of shelving while she tried to weave through to the non-fiction section, picking things up from their assigned spots and setting them down elsewhere just as she turned the corner down another row of books.

The history assignment she clutched should have been the main source of her anxiety, because a multi-page essay handed out on the first day was never a good sign, but in reality, that was the one thing keeping her together as she passed the others her age, keeping her eyes trained on her brown penny loafers for as long as it took to reach the 970s.

If 900 is History and Geography… And 970 is North American History… That makes United States History-

“Maisie! Duck!”

Just as her fingers reached out to trace the 973 call number at the spine of the first US history book, she processed the words and crouched as quickly as she could. A football spiraled right through the area where her head used to be in a perfect arc from one side of the long, four-tiered shelf to the other. Her heart began to painfully pound as the junior who threw it rushed past her, clad in his blue and silver varsity jacket.

Rory Jenkins. They’d been in the same classes together since elementary school.

Shoulders brushing in the narrow space when Daisy straightened herself upright once more, Rory hurried over to his receiver, who was laughing, “Nice one!”

Cheeks heating, Daisy gripped the paper in her hands tighter, hardly able to register what he’d said with all of the blood rushing to her ears.

He’s laughing at you.

The 973s filled her vision, allowing her to confirm her memory of the Dewey Decimal System as the first title about US history popped up. A book about World War Two; Way too late in the timeline. Mrs. Gruben had barely gotten through her introduction to the course and its extensive quarterly essay project before touching briefly on the settling of the first colony at Jamestown right as the bell rang.

Eyes flicking down the line until she found a title related to colonial times, Rory’s laughter filled her ears again. Her awkward duck couldn’t have been that funny. Neither was his mash-up of her first name.

When she turned to correct him, he and his friend were already at the opposite end of the long shelving, backs turned to her as their shoulders shook. One of the librarians at the help desk held a finger to her lips, shushing them as they walked by.

Though she wasn’t able to shake her feelings of unease, grabbing the first book that looked helpful did get Daisy back on track. She was here to get a jumpstart on her work after all.

Please use three primary sources, five secondary sources, and this YouTube documentary to construct your thesis, the student read from the sheet in her hand. Having the freedom to choose what documents and books to use was reassuring, she had no problem scouring the shelves for whatever she needed, and the original Jamestown site was only about an hour's drive away from her hometown of Chester, Virginia. Gathering the necessary sources would be no problem.

It was the printed-out YouTube link that scared her the most.

Neatly placing the assignment instructions on the book's cover and tucking it between her arm and hip, Daisy kept browsing, picking out any title that caught her eye. Checking out books on a desired topic was a snap, especially with such a nice, full library on Clear Creek’s campus; Her almost perfect memory of the building’s layout from a lifetime of visits with her Nana made it even easier.

Holding all the information she could between the lines of the texts as she stacked them up was reassuring. Everything she should need was filled into the bent, yellowing pages, perfectly spelled out for her and her needs. Far better than some silly online documentary she’d have to keep pausing and rewinding over and over again as she wrote down the facts she’d need in her notebook.

By the time she’d found an empty table and set her impressive stack down, most of the other students had trickled out. Silently, she thanked God she didn’t have to ask someone if she could take the seat next to them, that was always so embarrassing. Her watch read 3:30. Had she really been lost among the shelves for half an hour? Nana would be proud.

Besides, she wouldn’t be expected to be home until her Grandad returned from his art studio around 5… If she were there any sooner her older brother, Jay-Jay, would certainly pester her to help him whip up whatever recipe suited his wild whims. Cooking was his thing, certainly not hers, though she was always happy to partake in his impressive dishes.

So, for the time being, she grabbed her spiraled history notebook from the beige messenger bag leaning on the leg of the plastic chair she sat in, and opened the cover to the first book, Jamestown: A Legacy, and dove back in time.

At least, she tried to, but the keyboard of the computer in front of her was annoyingly large. When she allowed the book to fall completely open, the cover hit one of the keys and the bright blue screen flicked on, reflecting off the lens of her bronze-lined glasses.

Daisy wasn’t a technophobe, as her best friend Makana Aukai liked to call her, but she wasn’t all that fond of the way the computers had overtaken her beloved library over the years. Less space for her note-taking, and more space for a blindingly bright monitor in her face while she was trying to learn. The greatest civilizations in history had gotten along just fine without the internet, all the way from Mesopotamia to Ancient Egypt to the modern United States, so why couldn’t she?

Besides, it seemed like the models changed every year. No one had the time to keep learning how to use these new devices for information when the encyclopedia and reference books worked perfectly fine. Or they did when given the proper space to use them.

Her eyes flicked back to the assignment sheet. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to check out the documentary early now that the computer was awake. It’s not like she had a computer of her own to watch it on at home.

Slowly taking her index fingers to the keys, she typed out her student ID into the first box labeled username. White polish on her nails stood out starkly against the black of the keys.

Password was the stumper. Having set this account up two years ago at the beginning of her freshman year, she had no clue what she’d chosen to protect her account.

She typed out password, as that seemed the most logical choice. It’d be impossible to forget the word if it was right there on the screen. The box wiggled after she pressed the enter key.

A small pop-up filled her vision asking What street did you live on growing up?

Letter by letter she squeezed out Hilltop Avenue.

An image of the large white colonial her grandparents owned filled her vision, picturing the expansive green lawn and gorgeous forest surrounding it. The street Jay-Jay taught her to ride a bike on, the large open spaces they’d build leaf piles in when fall came.

Once that answer was accepted, another question appeared. What was the name of your first pet?

That was an easy one, Poppy.

Daisy’s aging calico was her first and only pet, given to her by her grandparents on her tenth birthday. Originally, Poppy had been a way for Daisy to learn about the responsibility of learning to care for another living being, but the other members of her family were just as obsessed with the cat as she was. Poppy’s toys littered their carpet, her food taking up a whole shelf in the fridge, and her fur clung to their clothing as tightly as their little cuddle bug did when everyone gathered in the study in the evenings to read together.

Also accepted, she was then prompted to change her password, once and for all picking password before she was brought to the desktop - An image of the front of her high school during the wintertime, snow blanketing the gorgeous brick buildings. Now, she had to get to YouTube, which she believed was easier said than done.

None of the icons on the left side of the screen looked like the company logo on the videos she’d seen Makana pull up. Awesome.

Internet Explorer looked promising, so she maneuvered the mouse in that direction and clicked on the blue and yellow icon, waiting to see what would happen. A small outline appeared around the picture, but beyond that, nothing, so she clicked it again. Once more, nothing.

So stupid, she thought to herself clicking on it over and over until something changed. Piece of junk!

A few moments later a larger box appeared in the middle of the screen, the pointer of the mouse icon turning into a spinning wheel for a few seconds before the Google search bar appeared on a white background. Now, this Daisy knew how to do. Whatever she put in the smaller bar under the logo would pull up just what she was looking for.

YouTube, her fingers managed, enter.

This time, an unfamiliar image pulled up in the box, and this was usually where Makana shone, picking out something to show her friend to try and “cure” her “internet aversion.” So far nothing she’d picked had made Daisy want to explore the platform any further, but now that she knew it housed history documentaries too, that might pique her interest far more than the poor excuse for sketch comedy Kana always pulled up.

The search bar was a little tougher to find this time, at the top of the tab instead of in the middle, and Daisy pulled the essay instruction sheet out and began to slowly copy the link Mrs. Gruben had added in. One by one, she read the letter out on the paper and meticulously searched for it on the keyboard. Why the letters weren’t in alphabetical order was beyond her, and it probably took her five minutes to struggle out every single letter, but eventually, she was confident enough to hit enter one more time and wait for the video to pull itself up.

Nightmare In Jamestown sounded awfully intriguing, especially given the sordid actions of the settlers against the Indigenous people who had called the land home long before their boats arrived, but that title didn’t show up on her screen.

Check Yes, Juliet - Kendall K popped up instead, causing her eyes to flicker up to the bar where she’d painstakingly typed out the long link. Apparently, she’d gotten something wrong and it had taken her to the wrong video.

Just as she was about to click away and try again, the small black box changed. In its place, a blond boy who looked about her age filled the screen. Beanie and flannel-clad, he sat on his bed, presumably in his bedroom with a brown guitar laid across his lap. Carefully, he adjusted the black and silver lightning bolt strap across his shoulders and cleared his throat.

“Hey, this is Kendall…” He appeared uncomfortable speaking to the camera, eyes flickering upward from the strings like he was looking right at Daisy.

Her chest tightened.

A few more seconds passed and Kendall cleared his throat, taking the pick clasped between his fingers to the strings and strumming out a quick chord. When he smiled, sheepish, two dimples cut into his cheeks. “My friends dared me to try this out - Here goes nothing.”

The video was loud, probably far louder than it should have been playing in a library, but she had no idea how to turn it down. However, the moment he began to sing the words, fingers flying across the fretboard like it was nothing, she wanted to make it even louder.

Kendall’s voice was beyond captivating, siren-like, she’d argue, and she found herself enthralled before he even hit the chorus. It was clear, yet sultry… Smooth, with a gruff edge. Daisy had never heard anything like it.

He kept looking in different directions as he sang, changing it up when he needed to take in more air or switch his strumming pace, but near the end, he looked back at the camera again and she swore he could see her on the other side of the screen, piercing swirls of green and flecks of yellow coming through even with the poor video quality. It didn’t help that he was singing what sounded like a love song…

Cute… She caught herself thinking, propping her chin in her hand as she leaned into the screen, as if it would give her a better view of him. The wall behind him boasted a handful of posters for people she’d never seen before and a bunch of pictures that were too small to make out. A few medals were tacked up by his headboard, and what looked like a hockey stick was propped up by the wooden frame.

Daisy couldn’t look away, attempting to decipher every pixel of the video she could to learn more about this boy with the beautiful voice. Which was, as she came to realize once he sang out a final, “Forever we’ll be, you and me…” completely irrational. Kendall had made this video to show off his musical prowess, not to be studied by some stranger.

Despite this, she quickly gripped the mouse and shook it over the video until the bar at the bottom appeared and she hit the two bars sitting next to each other. Slowly, she followed along the red line indicating the watch time and grabbed the circle at the end, pulling it back to the beginning and starting the video again. Makana did that at all the funny parts of her favorite videos to see them play over and over.

“Hey, this is Kendall…”

Watching the video again felt like the first time, though this time, she closed her eyes and focused on the lyrics, trying to remember all the parts of his face. And maybe, she imagined he was singing to her for a few seconds, before feeling her cheeks heat and shaking the thought out of her head. He certainly didn’t deserve to be ogled over as much as he deserved to be picked apart based on his bedroom.

But, the sweep of his blond hair into his eyes when he looked down at the strings had her head spinning. She couldn’t help her mind from wandering just slightly.

Besides, seeing him on the screen allowed her to skip the fear of meeting someone new and potentially embarrassing or humiliating herself like she normally did. Getting thrust into social situations against her will was at the top of the list of things Daisy hated, but at least this way, she could watch the video and admire Kendall’s talent judgment-free. It was halfway social, especially if she kept pretending the song was meant for her.

Though… I bet he’s sweet when the camera’s off too…

Daisy pulled at the neck of her brown sweater. The library was never this warm. Had someone turned the thermostat by the bathroom earlier as a prank?

When the song ended, she rewound it. Then again. The stack of history books towering beside her all but forgotten.

“Ms. Denton?” Someone behind her asked, and the girl practically jumped out of her skin. She didn’t even pause the video as she turned in the chair, looking at the older woman behind her. Ms. Peabody, one of Nana's friends, who was also the head of the library, stood over her. “Would you mind putting some headphones in if you’re going to watch something?”

The heat creeping up her face from embarrassment quickly turned into the fires of shame. “O-oh. Of course. Sorry… Sorry.”

Scrambling, her hands were trembling at the unexpected interaction before they stabilized themselves on the plastic mouse. Daisy paused the video as quickly as she could.

Headphones. Why didn’t you think of that? Ms. Peabody’s going to complain to Nana next time they see each other.

“Thank you, dear,” The older woman smiled, flipping one side of her cardigan over the other before she turned to walk away. A second later, she turned back. “Is that a friend of yours?”

Eyes widening, Daisy turned from Ms. Peabody’s intense gaze, only to find her line of sight locking with Kendall’s on the screen. Now she was back to flushing with embarrassment, dropping her view to her shaking hands. “No. I just… found this. I’ll turn it off. Sorry.”

“No? What a shame. He’s very handsome.”

Daisy was about to combust in her seat, heart leaping up and down her throat like the drop dower at the Chesterfield County Fair. Brain freezing, she was unable to come up with anything to say before Ms. Peabody smiled, crow's feet by her eyes crinkling before she headed back over in the direction of the help desk.

He was handsome. So handsome Daisy couldn’t breathe. What did that say about her?

This poor stranger, she chastised herself, about to click off the video, gather her books, and head home, before she noticed a section at the bottom of the video labeled Add a comment.

It didn’t appear as though anyone else had, which was shocking to her, considering his undisputable talent. No one had anything to say about the ease at which he played the guitar or his unique tone of voice? Not even one comment about his choice of song or how cute he looked in that beanie?

No… That last one wasn’t as relevant, but the thought swirled in Daisy’s mind regardless.

What a shame, I suppose I should change that.Lacing her fingers together, Daisy turned her palms outward, cracking them with eight satisfying pops. Swallowing thickly, she placed her index fingers on the keys and slowly began to piece her thoughts together.

eee hi! welcome to the first chapter of online songs - i hope you enjoy! <3 be sure to check out my other works in the btr fandom too :) lmk what you think!!

#online songs fic #big time rush #kendall knight #james diamond #carlos garcia #logan mitchell #kendall schmidt #james maslow #logan henderson #carlos penavega

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mariacallous · 10 months ago

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From the second the message popped up on X, it had a familiar ring. Jools Lebron, the TikTok creator who went viral just a few weeks ago for a post discussing “very demure, very mindful” work looks, was upset that, seemingly, someone had attempted to trademark her viral phrase.

In a since-deleted video, Lebron lamented through tears that her future ability to sell demure-branded merchandise seemed in jeopardy. “I wanted this to do so much for my family, provide for my transition, and I just feel like I dropped the ball,” Lebron said, adding that “someone else has it now, and I don’t even know what I could have done better, because I didn’t have the resources.”

Lebron’s situation is echoed in the story of fellow Chicagoan Peaches Monroee. Back in the summer of 2014, the then-teenager posted a video on TikTok precursor Vine describing her eyebrows as “on fleek.” Her catchphrase caught on everywhere, from Nicki Minaj lyrics to Kim Kardashian posts. #Brands like Taco Bell hopped on the trend; Forever 21 made crop tops. Monroee, aka Kayla Lewis, reaped no rewards. Three years after the trend went viral, she launched a GoFundMe and raised just shy of $17,000, according to the campaign’s page.

Like “on fleek,” “demure” has attracted scores of admirers. Jennifer Lopez. The White House. Kim Kardashian (again). Earthquake survivors. The original video has nearly 50 million views, and Lebron’s follower count is now above 2 million. She appeared on Jimmy Kimmel Live! while RuPaul was serving as guest host. But her ability to seize her moment of internet fame may not meet exactly the same fate as Lewis’. Despite the fact that a Washington resident named Jefferson A. Bates and the company Do or Drink both filed “demure” applications with the US Patent and Trademark office, Lebron posted a TikTok on Tuesday saying that it’s been “handled.” “Mama got a team now!” she exclaimed, smiling.

Exactly how it got handled is unclear—Bates didn’t respond to an email seeking comment, and representatives for Lebron and Do or Drink didn’t reply, either. Still, the tug-of-war marks something of a shift in how the internet understands the value of trends. Almost as soon as word of the “demure” trademarks surfaced, social media sprung into action decrying the fact that anyone other than Lebron would try to claim the phrase.

One lawyer on TikTok, who uses the handle @bellewoods, did a breakdown explaining that “Jools is going to be just fine” because of the intricacies of how the trademark system in the US works. Another TikTokker claimed to have filed her own trademark application with the intention of transferring ownership to Lebron. (Though, as a Washington Post story this week pointed out, transferring a trademark may not be so easy.) In the comments section of the “handled” TikTok, brands ranging from Ritz Crackers to Zillow weighed in with emoji-strewn affirmations.

All of this underscores that, unlike 10 or 15 years ago, there is now a greater understanding that “content creation is labor,” says Kate Miltner, a lecturer in data, AI, and society at the University of Sheffield’s Information School. “It is time-consuming and often poorly remunerated labor for the most part,” but far more people make entire careers out of being content creators than a decade ago, Miltner adds, “and it feels like an ethics of plagiarism, in addition to trademark/copyright, have come into play.”

Simply put, people get this shit now. A decade after “on fleek,” creators are much smarter when it comes to ownership of their creations. “A series of conversations and discourses about cultural appropriation and where a lot of contemporary (online) language comes from (Black communities, queer communities) have happened since Peaches Monroee,” Miltner says. Lebron may have felt like she dropped the ball because of a lack of resources, but the resources she did have were other creators who knew how to call out what had happened. She also had companies like Netflix, which—perhaps anticipating blowback for just hopping on a viral trend—just asked that Lebron curate a “Very Demure, Very Mindful” list.

Will this happen every time? No. Memes built from everyday language will always be hard to trademark—Miltner cites Fox Media’s unsuccessful attempt to trademark “OK Boomer” as an example. But now that even Hawk Tuah Girl has merch, the possibilities of getting credit for your meme, or even cash, don’t seem as unlikely as they did before. Might your meme get ingested and reinterpreted by an artificial intelligence bot? Yes. Will that bot be able to make a T-shirt? Er, well, that might happen, too. Creators, especially minority creators, will always have to fight to keep control of their works once they’ve been unleashed onto the world. Now, though, they have a few more coaches in their corner.

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shsl-box-worshipper · 1 year ago

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A Lesson on Dragons

(A ficlet from The Dragons of Lyoko AU, where Code Lyoko takes place in a modern version of the setting of HTTYD.) Masterpost Coming Soon

It was cold September morning in the year 2001 when the final bell of Kadic Academy rang shrill against the sluggish morning atmosphere.

School had only begun a few days, yet its exhaustion already sank its teeth into the children.

And no place where this exhaustion was more apparent than Ms. Hertz's biology class. Children were either starting mischief, sleeping at their lab counters, or not even present.

However, the exhaustive atmosphere came to a screeching halt with the slam of the front door and the appearance of the woman herself.

*BANG!*

"Now, children, turn to the front and keep quiet while I call for attendance."

A stern, strict woman with graying hair, a lab coat, and glasses marched her way to her desk as the class silently watched with bated breath.

Ms. Hertz wasn't the greatest teacher, but she did a good damn job of it. She always dedicated herself to making sure her little prodigies had their heads overflowing with knowledge by the time she was done with them.

And, as she quickly finished attendance, today was no exception to that rule.

"Now, turn to page 227 in your animal biology textbooks while I set up today's lesson."

The lesson she had for this particular day required more of a digital presentation than most of her lessons did. But then again, this week's unit is going to be dedicated to a highly complex order of animals. It was important she be as clear and as concise as possible.

So, while her students flipped to the respective page, she went around the room to close the curtains, roll up the projector, and insert the reel she was going to use.

And then, she flicked off the lights, bathing the classroom in darkness. At first, the children had no idea what was going on, even calling out in fear in some cases. Then, she turned on the projector.

Suddenly, a beam of light shot across the class, pointing directly at the white screen she used for her presentations. On that screen displayed a minimalist depiction of the subject of today's lesson.

"Now, children, today, we are going to discussing dragons. Now, I am sure that you all are aware of such creatures, as they are quite popular work animals and pets, but can someone give me an exact definition of what a dragon is?"

She looked around for any raised hands at her beckoning. She was disappointed with the lack of participation. However, before she could volun-tell someone to take the plunge, she was relieved to see a hand finally come up.

"Ah, Jeremie! Good to see you putting effort in as always. Now, can you tell us, if your own words, what a dragon is?"

Jeremie was a blond-haired boy with thick glasses, a blue turtleneck sweater, and tan khakis. It was obvious he was quite nervously discussing such a topic, but was able to spit it out regardless.

"Uh-They're a group of large, powerful reptiles. The most common traits are they can fly and they have some sort of weapon that can make them deadly."

Hertz smirked as she turned to the next slide, always happy that Jeremie was able to pick up the slack where most failed.

"Correct, Jeremie. Though the correct terminology would be that they are an order of reptiles. Specifically, Order Draconica."

The slide she had turned to showed a textbook diagram of the anatomical structure of a particular dragon species. Judging by her memory, this should be a diagram of a Deadly Nadder's organs, specifically a halignus and its digestive digestive system, but it could be a Gronkle's genitalia for all she knew. It had been forever since the school updated the presentation.

"Like Jeremie said, the most common attribute among dragons is that they are large reptiles that share a common ancestor that is distinct from most other reptiles. Now, as seen here, this is the inside of Volarignus Spinicus, commonly known as the Deadly Nadder."

Some of the kids gagged once Hertz said that. Whether out of actual disgust or to make fun of her class, she had no idea. However, she tried to continue on as if she hadn't heard it.

"This particular diagram showcases specific subsections of her internal organs."

She then pointed at the Nadder's lower digestive system, emphasizing it as she went on with her lecture.

"This is a Nadder's stomach, small intestine, and large intestine. While dragons, like all animals, have a variety of different diets, the Nadder in particular is mainly a carnivore. It can eat anything, but the best for it's system is meat."

A small hand rose up in the back, high above the drone-like heads that stared off into space. Hertz, attentive as always, quickly pointed to it.

"Yes, Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth, or rather Sissi, was shaken somewhat by the wrong name usage, her eyebrow twitching and her face briefly pitting into disgust. However, she kept her composure long enough to ask her question.

"Ummm, what's that near the Nadder's mouth?"

Hmmmm...Oh!

Hertz found what Sissi was refering to when she saw the somewhat large organ, or more accurately organs, on the Nadder's jaw in the diagram.

"Ah, good question, Ms. Delmas," she said before pointing at the organ, "That is a Nadder's halignus, an organ that is only found in most species of dragons. This organ is responsible for the breath weapon of most dragons. Like other organs, it always looks different and function different depending on the species."

She then walked over and moved along the presentation, the slide of a Monstrous Nightmare's halignus now being shown.

"This is a Monstrous Nightmare's halignus for comparison. Notice how one tube of the organ extends out and breaks off into tinier tubes as it reaches the skin. Well, that is because this fuel also serves a dual purpose of regulating the dragon's body temperature. It can cool the dragon all on it's own or..."

She then moved on to yet another slide. However, it got more of a reaction out of her students than the previous ones before.

However, it wasn't disgust or anything negative of the sort. It was wonder, as subtle wows filled the class. She was expecting this, of course.

After all, how could a bunch of teenagers hold themselves back from being shocked at the sight of a Monstrous Nightmare rising up to the skies, covered in flames and fire like a phoenix from hell?

"It can ignite it to keep warm and as a territorial display. This also served as a combat advantage when being hunted by other dragons and our ancestors."

As always, she will thrive in whatever chance she can have to surprise her students, and this was no exception. However, she also realized that she didn't have much time left. Only about 30 minutes to get today's assignment done in class. So, turning the projector off and saving the remaining presentation for the rest of the week, she turned to her kids as she walked over to turn on the lights.

"Now, any questions before we begin with today's assignment?"

Surprisingly, as she finally brought like back into the lab, she was met with a raised hand. From...Jeremie?

"Yes, Jeremie?"

What kind of question could her star pupil have?

Oh well, she might as well give a listen. Jeremie stood and cleared his throat as Hertz walked back to her desk.

"I-I was busy reading a book on mythology, and noticed there was a species of dragon in the book called a Night Fury? I-Is there a real-life equivalent or...?"

Hmmm, good question, though she expected better from her best student. This is a topic he could've easily researched with a little effort.

"Hmmm, there is one such species. However, they are considered extinct in the wild due to poaching and purposeful extinction efforts in the past, but there are about a hundred in captivity. Of course, we, the average civilian, cannot see them, but there are plans for some breeding programs to bring them back into the wild."

Jeremie nodded and his eyes became obscured by the light bouncing off his glasses as he sat back into his seat.

"Okay...thank you, Ms. Hertz."

Weird, even he usually wasn't this meek. Oh well, he probably realized he could've researched that topic on his own.

"Now, for your assignment, please read from 227 up to 252 silently and give me a paragraph about a dragon fact you find interesting on a piece of loose leaf paper. Remember to put your name and date so I can grade them properly."

As Hertz finally sat her computer, she noticed how Jeremie kept looking at his desk in a solemn way. As if whatever Hertz said to him was gnawing at him alive.

Oh well, Hertz thought. It was probably nothing.

#code lyoko #httyd #alternate universe #writing #fanfiction #the dragons of lyoko au #some bits of world-building including dragon biology stuff

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blueelectricroom · 10 months ago

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Notes on School Days and Rule Days First week of September always has me recalling elementary school, which is a mixed bag of revery and post-traumatic stress. Today it dawned on me, decades after the fact, that the tablet form of Pepto Bismol, as well as fruit-flavored Tums, would have been mighty handy, circa 5th-8th grade. Normally a lunchroom tray loaded with mock Salisbury steak, something resembling mashed potatoes, and the world's best yeast rolls would bring no major distress to my young GI system. But it goes without saying that the elementary school landscape is a minefield of emotional and social hazards, to which mild indigestion and nausea are common responses, post a cafeteria visit.

For example, one morning the supply counter at our book room ran out of Bic medium-point pens. I had planned to settle for a fine-point in blue, but only black was available. Using a fountain pen was out of the question, because I was writing in a St. Regis 80-page bound notebook, as opposed to the sturdier stock of a better brand of loose-leaf. (I don't even need to say what the liquid indigo mix from a fountain pen would have looked like after only a few lines.) Long story short: my work that morning comprised several pages of deranged glyphs in scratchy, black ballpoint. By the time we strolled into the lunchroom I was a wreck.

There were other episodes. A substitute teacher in our 6th-grade science class once referred to Cardinals as "redbirds" and seagulls as "water birds," yet I'm certain I saw our principal hand her an envelope stuffed with small bills after the three o'clock bell. One afternoon on the playground a stitch in the cuff of the left leg of my plaid flares completely unraveled. You can guess the rest. Another day, a plurality of what can only be described as "C" students in music class voted to make "The Streets of Laredo" the official performance for the boys.

An even worse moment was that Monday morning our teachers introduced yellow chalk. The idea — or rather, the sales pitch — was that yellow text on those green chalkboards would be provide less eyestrain than would white. But we had grown accustomed to the clean, spartan, and yes, traditional aesthetic of white chalk on green. Years of it. In my small but discerning circle we cared about that kind of thing. I recall shooting a glance at Pam, Jill, and Rick as soon as that first yellow stick began its hideous journey across the board. They may have registered even more disdain than I did, which is saying something. Two of the smartest kids in class were quietly sobbing. Laurie left the room without asking permission. I don't recall ever seeing her again.

And yes, we went to lunch mere hours after the appalling incident. Having learned from Mr. Morrow (science) that the human skeleton was made of calcium carbonate, as was chalk, and that the substance was also used in Rolaids, I assumed I could place a small portion of dust from the board eraser on my tongue and survive another taxing meal in the cafeteria. But my nemesis, John (with whom I had a running feud through that entire school year) mentioned that, if I didn't like how yellow chalk looked on the board, I would hate what it might do to my teeth. And that, alone, is why you keep your friends close but your enemies even closer. And not just during math and lunch.

#the seventies #elementary school

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vivencyglobal · 2 years ago

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School Bell System - PA System Based School Bell Solutions | Vivency Global in Dubai.

Vivency Global PA system-based school bell solutions. School Intercom PA - Bell system for improved safety.Paging and Bells System for School.

Efficient time management is crucial in educational institutions, where the smooth transition between classes, breaks, and events is essential. Traditional bell systems have limitations in terms of audibility and flexibility. PA system-based school bell solutions have emerged as an innovative alternative, leveraging the power of public address systems to provide clear and customizable audio signals. In this blog, we will explore the benefits, features, and applications of PA system-based school bell solutions, and how they optimize time management and communication in educational settings.

Benefits of PA System-Based School Bell Solutions:

a) Clear and Audible Signals: PA system-based solutions utilize powerful speakers and audio amplification to ensure that bell signals are heard clearly throughout the school premises. This eliminates the possibility of missed cues or confusion, improving overall efficiency.

b) Customizable Audio Notifications: Unlike traditional bell systems, PA system-based solutions offer flexibility in audio notifications. Administrators can customize bell sounds, tones, or even incorporate recorded messages, providing distinct and recognizable signals for different events or schedule changes.

c) Centralized Control and Scheduling: PA system-based solutions enable centralized control and management of bell schedules. Administrators can easily program and modify bell timings, ensuring synchronized signaling across the school campus or multiple buildings.

d) Integration with Communication Systems: PA system-based bell solutions can be integrated with other communication systems, such as intercoms or emergency notification systems. This allows for simultaneous announcements or emergency alerts alongside bell signals, enhancing safety and communication.

Features of PA System-Based School Bell Solutions:

a) User-Friendly Interface: These solutions typically offer user-friendly interfaces that allow administrators to easily program and manage bell schedules. The interface may include dedicated software or hardware controllers, enabling convenient access and control.

b) Multiple Zone Configuration: PA system-based bell solutions support the division of the school campus into multiple zones. This allows for different bell schedules to be set up for various areas or buildings, catering to the unique needs of each zone.

c) Scheduling Flexibility: Administrators can easily modify bell schedules to accommodate exceptions, special events, or changes in routine. PA system-based solutions offer flexibility in adjusting bell timings, ensuring smooth transitions and minimizing disruptions.

d) Emergency Notification Integration: These solutions can be integrated with emergency notification systems to provide real-time alerts and announcements in case of emergencies or drills. This enhances the overall safety and preparedness of the educational institution.

Applications of PA System-Based School Bell Solutions:

a) K-12 Schools: PA system-based school bell solutions are particularly useful in K-12 educational institutions. They facilitate the timely signaling of class transitions, recess, lunch breaks, and other routine activities, promoting a structured learning environment.

b) Colleges and Universities: Higher education institutions can benefit from PA system-based solutions to manage complex class schedules, exams, events, and campus-wide announcements. These solutions ensure clear communication and timely signaling across large campuses.

c) Sports Facilities and Auditoriums: PA system-based bell solutions find applications in sports facilities and auditoriums within educational institutions. They can be used to signal the start and end of sporting events, performances, or special assemblies, ensuring smooth coordination and audience guidance.

d) Public Spaces within Schools: PA system-based bell solutions can be extended to public spaces within schools, such as cafeterias, libraries, or outdoor areas. This allows for the clear signaling of specific activities or events, ensuring effective management and communication.

Considerations when Choosing PA System-Based School Bell Solutions:

a) Audio Quality and Coverage: Ensure that the PA system-based solution offers high-quality audio output and sufficient coverage to reach all areas of the school premises. Consider the size of the school and the required sound levels for effective signaling.

#PA system-based school bell solutions #Timetable management with PA systems #Customizable bell scheduling #Efficient PA system solutions #Integrated school bell systems #School Bells and Timer Solutions #Paging - Bells System for School #Automated Bell and PA Solution for Schools.

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devastator1775 · 9 months ago

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Anne's Journey: Two eternal Souls And The Lost Daughter - Chapter 2: 2Tone and Red Ash

Chapter Summary: Anne deals with returning to school and letting her best friend in on a certain secret.

Despite how hard she tried; Anne was unable to get that nagging feeling out of her head. Those little thoughts that had pinned themselves on the back of her mind with little hook. She had spent the remainder of her time at home spending quality time with Hazel and Naomi – her parents, despite everything she learned – and she had loved every second of it. They went to see the movies, they went out to dinner, they went shopping for clothes – again, but this time with Hazel’s money –, they had a great time.

And still …

She couldn’t stop wondering about those who had actually brought her into this world. The ones whose combined codes had created her. Who were those two Drones that had left her at that doorstep? What were their dreams, their hopes, their goals in life? What did happen to them that they couldn’t keep a baby, accidental or not?

And what about the corrupted files in her system? According to her moms, Anne had been checked out extensively since she was a Neural Network, but nothing seemed to point out that it would cause any sort of problems. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe that was simply just the cause of her uniquely colored eyes?

And what happened in her bedroom? She had tried to push the memory away, but she couldn’t stop thinking about it. That was a piece of her visor, freshly broken off. But why wasn’t there any damage to show that it was? Like it had somehow healed on its own. But that was impossible. Right?

What about-

“Miss Brinkman!”

With a surprised yelp, Anne looked up, blushing lines forming on her visor when her classmates started laughing. Oh right, she was in class. And she had been zoning out …again. “Y-yes, Mrs. Windsor?”

“Ah, back with us again, Miss Brinkman?” her teacher asked. “I do apologize for interrupting you little daydream, but I rather wish you’d pay attention to the things I’m actually trying to teach you.”

Anne shrunk in herself as some of her classmates snickered around her, but a stern warning look from Miss Windsor quickly shut them up. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Windsor. It won’t happen again, Mrs. Windsor.”

“Maybe I’ll believe you if you could solve the equation on the board, Miss Brinkman.” Mrs. Windsor gestured to said board that held the complicated math problem they had been instructed to solve.

Anne gave it a quick look and turned back to Mrs. Windsor. “The answer is 352.12589, Mrs Windsor.”

Mrs Windsor look at her sheet …then turned to Anne with a soft smile. “Well, good to see that your absence hasn’t eroded your math skill, Miss Brinkman.” At that point, the bell rang, signaling the end of school. “Okay class, don’t forget your homework. Reminder: pages 34 to 45 and pages 60 to 62. You can hand in in whenever you are ready with it, just don’t forget that I’ll ultimately need it by next week. See you tomorrow.”

Anne quickly stuffed her belongings in her backpack and was about to make her way out the room, when Mrs Windsor cleared her throat.

“Anne, a word, please?”

Anne flinched like the words stung and sauntered over to the teacher’s desk, dreading the scolding she’d receive. She already was on thin ice because:

Because she had forgotten to set her alarm on her phone, she had overslept. Her parents had the early shift, so they weren’t around to wake her up. It wasn’t the first time this happened, Anne was used to this, so normally she’d handle it herself. Her parents trusted her enough to be responsible and get herself dressed, fed and go to school on her own. But due to the circumstances, she had forgotten and even while she had rushed to get to school, she had been 7 minutes late.

In her haste, she had forgotten her homework at home. So …that sucked. Anne was a grade-A student and she was rightly proud of that fact. And now she wasn’t paying attention in class. She was in for a reprimand, she was sure of it.

Anne rubbed her arms sheepishly, trying to bring herself to look her teacher in the eyes – and quite failing at it. “Mrs Windsor, about what happened- “

“Is everything going alright at home, Anne? And with you?” The softness and the concern in her teacher’s voice immediately brought a sense of ease to Anne, and she looked into concerned eyes and a warm little smile that made Anne feel safe to speak. Dang, this woman was good. “I must admit, I was surprised when Hazel called me last week to tell me you had to say home for a while. She sounded …off, but she didn’t want to divulge anything to me ...which is surprising because that woman can’t keep a secret.”

Boy, showed what she knew. But she wasn’t surprised that her teacher showed such concern and familiarity to her. While Anne knew her as Mrs Windsor the teacher, to her parents she used to be Eloise Hill, before she took on her husband’s last name. Eloise was a mutual friend from their college days and best friend of her mother Hazel. This woman used to babysit her, build pillow forts on the couch with her and allowed her – often healthy – snacks before bedtime.

Anne wondered …did she know? Had her mothers told Eloise about her adoption and the events surrounding that. Then again, Eloise only moved into town when Anne was 5 and that was the first time that Hazel, Naomi and her had reunited since college. Anne decided that it was better not to ask and presented her most convincing smile.

“No, nothing is wrong, Mrs Windsor – Eloise – and I’m f-fine.” Dangit, why did she stutter? “Just a little virus that had me in a bad state, is all. Shows me that I shouldn’t be downloading movies from suspicious sites on the ultranet, huh?”

Gosh, that was such a lame excuse.

“Uh-huh, that’s so, right?” Eloise’s expression just screamed ‘I don’t believe you, child’. She collected her papers and tapped them on her desk to straighten them out. “You know, my many years as a teacher has given me the intricate ability to spot when my students aren’t completely being honest with me.”

Anne gulped. She really didn’t feel like opening up about what had transpired last week. At least, not with another adult like her teacher.

Eloise sighed, placed her papers on the desk and looked up at Anne with a soft smile. “But I do also know when my students aren’t comfortable – or ready – to open up about some things. So, for now, I’ll just take your word for it and let it go for now. Okay?”

Anne breathed out a sigh of relief, wiping away a digital bead of sweat and nodded.

“However, …” Eloise folded her hands on the table, straightened her posture and look at Anne with an expression that told the adolescent Drone that she was dealing with the Teacher now instead of her parents’ old friend. “Whatever it is, it’s not an excuse for absentmindedness. I do expect that my students are alert and present whenever I am teaching my classes, and not lost in their own thoughts. Not even for one of my best and brightest ones, understand?”

Anne tried her best not to flinch at the stern-but-fair tone in Mrs. Windsor’s voice. She gulped, straightening her own posture. “I …I understand, Mrs. Windsor.”

“I do so hope that you do, Miss Brinkman.” Mrs Windsor stated her expectation. Her expression softened a bit. “I do mean it when I say that you are one of my brightest, but that doesn’t give you an exception to let personal problems influence your performance at school. I expect you take this in consideration in the near future, of which I meant: tomorrow in class?”

“Yes, Mrs Windsor. I know, Mrs. Windsor. I won’t let it happen again, Mrs Windsor.”

“I believe it when I see it, Miss Brinkman.” Mrs Windsor sighed and took off her half-rounded glasses, giving Anne a more sympathetic look. “Speaking with my own personal experience of being a teenager, whatever you’re going through at this age …is rather expected for someone your age, but it helps to talk with people, Anne. There are counsellors at our school whose doors are open for these situations. Mr Ward and Miss Clancey are excellent listeners and have helped other students with their problems, whatever nature they were. Maybe you should pay either a visit one of these days and sort things out. I’m not telling you what to do, I’m just suggesting to give the possibility a thought, okay?”

Anne suppressed the urge to scoff with all her might. There was no way that a school counsellor could help with this problem. She smiled and nodded, nevertheless. “I’ll consider it, Mrs Windsor. Thank you.”

“I’m here to help you, Anne.” Mrs Windsor smiled warmly and waved her away. “Now, I have taken enough of your time. Go home, tell your parents I said ‘hi’ and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Anne spun around with a small wave and quickly made her way out the room. Eloise was just doing her job as a teacher – and a friend – but this thing that Anne was going through …was everything but simple. Just talking about it wouldn’t do anything right now. Anne sighed. Maybe she was allowing it to get to her a bit too much. Maybe it was better to just …. move on and forget.

…

‘If it only was that simple.’

The sound of people talking in the distance grabbed her attention, but there was one in particular that her smile and she immediately ventured off in that direction. Well, if there was something – or rather: someone – that could give Anne some much needed distraction, it was:

“Ash!” Anne called out as she turned the corner.

Ashley Yates, better known by her friends as Ash or sometimes Red Ash, a female Drone with dark red eyes and the same shade of curly hair spun – which she wore in the rather complex style of two braided tails in the front, two large buns in the back and holding the rest of it all together with a black-and-blue bandana - around and enthusiastically waved at her.

“Yo, Anne! Hang on, just finishing up here.” She turned back to her conversation partner and slapped her on the shoulder. “So yeah, just trust me on this, Becks. Liddy is all about those stereotypical, mushy dating tropes. Just take her out to dinner, have a movie, take a walk and you’ll be snogging it up together in no time. And I do remember how much you like doing that.” She winked at the Drone, who started blushing, and gently ushered her away. “Now go get your girl, girl.”

With a giggle, the other Drone girl skipped away, quickly greeting Anne as she passed the latter.

“You’re helping Becky, your ex-girlfriend Becky, getting a date?” Anne asked as she approached the redheaded Drone, giving her a hug the moment she was close enough. “Didn’t you guys, like, break up not two weeks ago?”

“Yeah, but it was a mutual break-up, y’know?” Ash responded, returning the hug. “We had our 2 months of fun, but we both knew it wasn’t going anywhere, so we ended things and decided to remain friends. And what kind of friend would I be, if I didn’t want to help her out with some things she’s too shy to do herself?”

“Yeah, but to help her get a date, so soon after …”

“Anne, I am a girl who’s filled with love. I love loving. I have so much love in my core, that I can’t help but to help other people reach their pinnacle of love.” Ash made a heart shape with her hands, turning her eyes into hears for good measure, which just made Anne roll her eyes.

Ashley changed her eyes back to normal. “Besides, even a blind Drone can see those two are a great match. They’ve got that ‘synergy’, or whatever you would call that thing they do they don’t think everyone notices.” She threw an arm around Anne’s shoulders. “But enough about that, because, girl, I want to talk about you!”

“What about me?” Anne asked innocently, feigning ignorance.

“’What about me?’ she asks, like there’s nothing to discuss.” Ashley chuckled dryly. “You vanish of the face of the Copper for a few days, completely ghosting me; you don’t call, you hardly text; and when you came back, you were late and not paying attention in class. Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?”

Anne rolled her eyes again, but couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty. There wasn’t a hint of anger or disappointment in Ashley’s voice, but while she wouldn’t state it outright, Anne knew she had been worried. After all, they had been friends since kindergarten, when they were still both Pill Babies. They were practically joined at the hip. They’ve shared all their secrets with each other, had each other’s back through thick and thin.

They were a team …and Anne had left her teammate out in the dark. That wasn’t cool, even though Anne did have a valid reason for it. With a heavy sigh, she pushed Ashley’s arm from her shoulder. “I know, I’m sorry. Things …were happening that-”

“Apology accepted.” Ashley stated bluntly with a massive grin and a mischievous look in her eyes.

“That was quick.” Anne couldn’t help but grin as well.

“Eh, I figured that you must’ve had a good reason for ditching your bestie like that.” Ashley grabbed Anne’s arm and pulled her really close to her face, bringing her voice to a dark whisper. “But if you don’t tell me what the glitching heck is going on, I swear by the Creators …”

“Okay, okay, but …” Anne looked around. There were still so many students around and she rather not start a rumor chain. She didn’t want to go through that hassle but most importantly, she didn’t want the possibility that it could affect her parents in some ways. “Not here.”

“Ooh, mysterious.” Ash grinned, her dark expression dropping immediately. “Okay, lead the way. But first …soda. I’m craving some carbonated coolant and I need it now.”

Anne rolled her eyes with a grin. “Okay, but I’m buying. Consider it an apology for ghosting you like that.”

“Obviously, girl.”

***

The Town Park was a beloved place where people would spend time together. While the park was well maintained, there was one part at the east side of the area that was largely abandoned. That area used to be closed off permanently because of some maintenance issue, but closed gates and chains didn’t stop it from becoming a popular hangout for the town’s teenage residents and since no-one seemed to have any real issue with it, so it kinda naturally evolved into an ‘unofficially official hangout area’. As long as no-one made any real trouble, people looked the other way and let the youth be young there.

Today, it seemed largely empty, save for some groups listening to music, joking around and showing off their skating tricks. Anne and Ashley had secluded themselves in one of the at one their usual after-school haunts: a little gazebo under a dead willow tree.

“So, are you gonna tell me the big secret now, 2Tone?” Ashley asked – using her favorite nickname for her best friend, an obvious reference to Anne’s two-colored eyes -, as she nonchalantly leaned against the railing to take a sip of her Cherry Oilnade.

“Yeah, yeah, just …I’m trying to find the words here, Ash.” Anne let out a heavy sigh, looking at the liquid in her soda bottle as it swirled around and forming a little whirlpool. Rather a kinda fitting metaphor of how her life was feeling right now. She took a deep breath. “Okay …so, last week I was, uh, rummaging around in my parents’ room.”

“Candy stash?”

“Candy stash.” Anne affirmed. “And while I was looking, I found this …basket at the top of their closet, really tucked away. In there, there was …” Anne took off the choker she was wearing and held it out to Ashley. “This, among other things.”

Ashley chuckled as she took the necklace, bouncing it in her hands. “Talk about retro.” She held it up, examining it. Her brow furrowed as she held it closer to her visor. “Really retro. This is old. Like …a few generations. Worn, but still good.”

Anne took the choker out of Ash’s hands and put it back on. “Yeah, I saw that too, but there were other things in that basket too. A scarf, a pair of glasses, - “She pointed at the beanie she was wearing. “This old beanie.”

“I was wondering about that.” Ashley stated. “Looks good on you, though.”

“And …a letter.” Anne continued, ignoring Ashley’s statement. “A letter addressed to my parents. A letter that said...” She took a deep breath, slowly releasing it into the cold air. “’Her name is Anne. Please love her like we would have loved her’.”

Ashley remained silent for a few moments, but her eyes hollowed when she suddenly realized where this was going.

She let the word hang in the air for a while, her gaze fixated on the creaking floor of the gazebo. “Yeah, I kinda realized what that meant, too. When my parents found me with that, well …they told me …that …I’m adopted. They are not my birth parents. 16 years ago, someone left me at their doorstep, in that very basket, with those very items and that letter.”

The words came flowing out and it felt good to say them out loud to someone else. It lessened the weight that she was feeling on her core. “Someone had me, but they couldn’t keep me, but they wanted me to have a family, so they left me with Hazel and Naomi, who then adopted me and raised me like their own for the last 16 years. And that, well, I think you can understand that learning about a big secret like that can really mess someone up, …so yeah …that’s why I wasn’t at school for a few days. Why I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I was …dealing with that.”

Ashley remained silent for a few moments, before she opened her mouth again. “Oh …”

Anne cocked her head. “’Oh’? is that all you have to say about it? What kind of reaction is that? Jeez, it’s almost like you- “She noticed her friend’s expression and it suddenly all clicked. For someone who had just heard this bombshell of a lifechanging news, Ashley seemed rather …unsurprised. In fact, it was like …she was expecting it. Did she …? Was she ….? Anne pointed an accusatory finger at Ashley. “You knew …? You glitching knew?”

Ashley held up her hands, her expression changing from neutral to flustered, like she was caught with her hand in the c00kie jar. “No-no-no, I swear that I didn’t know.” She pushed herself off from the railing and walked up to her friend, grabbing her hands. “I didn’t know …”

The pause that followed was a little too long, heavily hinting at what was coming next.

Anne raised a digital eyebrow. “But…?”

Ashley sighed and she rubbed the back of her head. “But, I kinda …suspected it?

“Suspe- how?” Anne was flabbergasted at this revelation. How did her best friend deduce these things before her? She sighed in defeat. “Was it that obvious?”

“I wouldn’t say ‘obvious’, but …” Ashley huffed and crossed her arms. “I mean, different eye colors than both your moms, the height thing, things like that.”

“Well, if you suspected something, then why didn’t you ever say something, Ash?”

Ashley scoffed. “’Dude, are you adopted or what?’ Yeah, great conversation starter.” She sheepishly scratched the side of her chin. “Besides, I could easily have been very wrong and I figured that it didn’t matter if it would be true or not, because you, Anne Brinkman, are still my best friend, no matter what.”

Anne, suddenly feeling very emotional, threw her arms around Ashley, who immediately returned the hug. They stood there for a few silent moments, with Anne softly sobbing and Ashley just comforting her while she was letting it all out. Anne eventually pushed herself off, rubbing her visor.

“Oh, man …” She looked up at her friend, her expression a mix of apologetic and embarrassed. “Sorry for breaking down like that.”

“Meh, you looked like you needed a good cry. I mean, I would. I can’t even fathom what you’re going through right now.” Ashely stated, waving away the apology. “What are friends for, right, if not to be a shoulder to lean on during trying times?”

“Robo-God, you’re being extra cheesy, Ash.”

“It’s why you love me, 2Tone.” The redheaded Drone threw her arm around Anne’s head and pulled her close. Anne, knowing what would happen when her friend had that mischievous glint in her visor, managed to wriggle free before she was on the receiving end of a noogie.

“Man, I should have guessed that you would’ve figured this out, Ash.” Anne sighed, finishing the rest of her soda and chucking it over to the nearby bin – and making the perfect shot. “You are always so much smarter than you like make people believe.”

“Nah, you’re the smart one, Anne the hacker-queen.” Ashley stated with a grin as she walked backwards towards the railing. “I’m just very observa-AAGH! Oomph! …ouch.”

“Observant, huh?” Anne grinned as she walked to where Ashley had stood a second ago and leaned next to the now-gone piece of railing. She looked down at Ash, who way laid flat on her back. “Not observant enough you were leaning against the broken piece of the gazebo, Ash. How does the ground taste, bestie?”

“What’s that oh-so colorful expression you like to use whenever I’m being snarky at you? Oh yeah …” She popped up with a grin. “Bite me!”

They both started laughing, with Anne offering her hand to her fallen friend to pull her up. “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, just my pride …and my backplate.” Ashley mumbled as she dusted herself off. “Ugh, I just bought this outfit, too.”

“Hey, Ash?”

“Yah?”

“Thanks for listening.” Anne smiled warmly at her friend, and pulled her in for another hug. “I don’t know what I’d do without you as my friend.”

“Anytime, bestie. And don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone without your permission.” The hug conveniently hid the blush that was clearly showing on Ashley’s visor, bright like neon in the night. After a few moments, Ashley – almost reluctantly – playfully pushed Anne away from her. “Okay, enough mushy stuff. I’ve got a reputation to uphold, girl.”

“Yeah, right!” Anne laughed, fishing her phone out of her pocket and checked it. She had gotten text from both of her moms. Mostly about how school was, how she was feeling, what she wanted for dinner, ect …regular parents stuff.

“Soooo…” Ashley began, her tone rather uncharacteristically cautious that it made Anne look up from the reply text she was typing in. “I’ve got a question, but you don’t have to answer it, if you don’t like.”

“O-kay?” Anne raised a digital eyebrow.

“Did you, like, find out anything about …you know, the people who left you?” Ash asked softly, brining her voice down a bit. “I mean, I’d guess you whole, uh, situation was looked into?”

Anne let out a heavy sigh. “Not much.” She replied. “My moms didn’t have much to tell me.”

“So, what do you know?”

Anne gave a quick recap of what her parents had told her. About the two Drones that were supposed to be her birth parents but they had perished in a rather convenient accident. About the faults in her data codes and the missing files about her mystery Cradle Facility. She did, however, neglect to tell her about the little accident she had in her room, and the non-existent injury she swore she received. Things were weird enough without throwing that into the mix.

“-and that’s about it.” Anne concluded, letting out a groan.

“That’s …not much.”

“Like I said.”

“You think your moms are holding something back?”

“Nah, why should they?” Anne answered with a shrug. “I think they just …don’t want to think about it. Which they did. For 16 years. I guess anyone would forget those details. Man, I just wish I could look into it myself.”

“Uh, dude?”

“What?”

“You can.”

“Huh?”

“The Municipal Center downtown hold our records and you can easily ask for a copy of some of it.” Ashley pointed out, pointing her thumb over her shoulder, in the general direction of the Downtown area. “About everything. Of everyone. We can just put in a request for your file there.”

“We can?!”

“Yeah, you can just ask for any sort of your own information they have on file.” Ash started to count down on her fingers. “Birth certificate, medical history, anything related to familial info, criminal history – don’t ask -, things like that.”

“How do you know that?”

“Uh, I’ve paid attention in school, despite what I like make people believe? We’ve learned about this two years ago. I got an A+ on that test.” Ashley replied with a grin. She chuckled, her grin growing even more mischievous. “Ah, but you did get a B- on that back then, didn’t you? Oh, so sad.”

“Bite me!” Anne grabbed Ashley’s hand and started to drag her along. “But you, Ashley Yates, are a genius.”

“Always glad when someone notices my worth!” Ashley laughed as she started to follow her friend.

***

Even though that Ash had said it wouldn’t be difficult to get access to the data she needed, she still was surprised how easy it was to get her hands on it. She had to fill in a few forms, most of it just legal mumbo-jumbo that she didn’t really understand. Since she was 16, she didn’t need either of her parents present for it, and truth be told: she was glad they weren’t there. She didn’t know how’d they react when they found out she was investigating this.

Still, she got what she needed. Anything related around her adoption was copied to a thumb drive, and said drive was resting in her pocket. It felt …heavy, for some reason. Every step she took made her more aware of the little thing she was carrying around, and the potentially big revelations that it carried within.

Too bad that Ash had to go help her dad in the shop afterwards. ‘A little extra cash in the pockets never hurts, 2Tone’, as she said. Maybe it was just the guilt of ghosting her that talked, but she would’ve liked her friend to be there when she was looking into this. Which is why she tried to look as casual as she could when she opened the door of her house and walked in.

“Mom, momma, I’m home!”

“Kitchen, sweetie!” she heard her mom Hazel call.

Anne cheerfully walked into the kitchen and saw her mom busy doing prep work for dinner. Drones didn’t really need to eat actual food, but every Drone was built with an internal matter-to-energy convertor – what their extinct Creators would have called a ‘stomach’ -, so it made for a nice thing to do together. Having family meals.

Anne walked over to her and kissed her mom on the cheek. “Hi, mom. Where’s momma?”

“Still at the hospital, stuck in a meeting, the poor thing. How about you? How was school, Anne?” Hazel asked, turning back to cutting up …whatever vegetable that was.

“Uh, good but …” Anne sheepishly rubbed the back of her head. “I, uh, …overslept this morning.”

“Oh no…”

“I was late at school.”

“Anne …”

“And I forgot my homework back here.”

“That, I noticed.” Hazel stated with a chuckle. “I left it on your desk upstairs. Please, put it in your backpack the moment you step in there.”

“Yes, mom. Thank you, mom.”

“I bet Ashley was happy to see you again.” Hazel said with a soft smile.

“She was a bit …ticked off that I didn’t call or text her, but yeah, she was glad I was back.” Anne said, sitting down after she grabbed herself a glass of hydraulic fluid. She ran her finger over the edge of the glass. “Uh, talking about Ash.”

“Yes?”

“I …told her …about me being adopted.”

Hazel stopped cutting, her knife hovering midair.

“Please, don’t get mad.” Anne began nervously. “I really felt like it was something she needed to know. Ash is my best friend since, like, forever and – “

“Anne.” Hazel interjected, making Anne stop mid-sentence. She smiled softly at her daughter. “Who you decide to tell, is your decision. You don’t need our permission for that. It’s not like it’s a big secret; and yes, I do know how hypocritical that sounds, considering we waited 16 years before we told you.”

“I found out, by accident and only then, you told me.” Anne smirked. “Besides, Ash had kinda figured it out on her own.”

Hazel chuckled, turning back to chopping up her veggies. “I shouldn’t be surprised. Ashley always has been an observant one.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard.” Anne stated dryly with a roll of her eyes. She downed her drink in one big gulp and stood up, grabbing one of her mother’s freshly baked microchip cookies that were standing on the counter. “I’m heading upstairs to do my homework!”

“Okay!”

Anne rushed upstairs and quickly made her way to her room, closing the door the moment she stepped in. She took out the thumb drive and held in in her open hand, giving a long look, like it was going to divulge its secrets while she was staring at it.

“No turning back now.” Anne muttered to herself as she bounced the little thing in her hand. She sat down at her desk and took out her laptop, quickly booting it up. She was about to plug in the drive, when she saw the background of her desktop. It was a picture of her and her mothers – with Ashley in the background, making silly faces. She stared at it for a little while, contemplating what she was about to do …and then plugged in the drive.

“Okay …let’s see what’s on you.”

#murder drones #immortal Vuzi AU #Anne Brinkman #vuzi #vuzi fankid #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic

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princesspuresarahk · 2 years ago

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Meg Fanfic

Chapter.1 the Honeycomb Café

It's was an hour and 40 minutes since Meg left Spooner Street. Decided to take her time going to the cafe watching the Sun rise in the distance during her walk there by the time she got to the little cafe it was already open and few customers were coming in ready for a nice hot cup of coffee and fresh baked pastries of hot cinnamon rolls, fresh baked donuts, bagels toasted with smooth cream cheese and delicious breakfast baked goods the cafe was little old fashioned style place in old brick with pretty flower boxes decorated with pretty yellow and white face curtains the sign in the door shape of a cute honey beehive decorated with cute little flowers saying welcome to the Honeycomb Cafe sound of a cute little bell ringing a Meg open the door the fresh scent of baked goodies of cinnamon, nutmeg, hazelnut and fresh brewed coffee hit her nose making her mouth slightly water in joy of the fresh scent as she looked inside the cute Cafe and she looked around there is the ordering place to get coffees next to the counter was a display of the fresh goods being displayed as customers said their orders across the room was an old fashioned brick fireplace that was still working having already been lit to warm up the room cold autumn weather surrounded with comfy couches and chairs there is even a door connected next to the bookstore where you can enjoy some reading while waiting for your coffee it was a small cute little paradise to Meg."This is a place I can relax in." She said to herself walking up to the counter she was there just in time for the barista to take the next order "hello welcome to the Honeycomb Cafe how may I help you this morning? Meg looks at the menu so many delicious options from Good Old pumpkin spice, campfire S'more latte, breezy brown sugar latte, cinnamon maple and spiced Irish cream. So she decided on Irish cream coffee with a raspberry Rose cream donut to go with it.

While waiting for her order make decided to wait by the fireplace walking over to the comfy love seats they were dark leather but were soft and plushie plump for your bottom in the middle of the couch and chairs was a small coffee table with books and a few magazines displayed probably from the bookshop next door curious decide to look through them somewhere about artwork and nature the magazines had stuff about season holiday cooking and knitting and home decor but one book suddenly caught her eye with interest it had different shades of blue on it with a rocky planet galaxy in the background the title saying The Beauty of Space Art An Illustrated Journey Through The Cosmos. That sounded interesting? Curious she picked up the book and gently flipped through the pages to take a look and what she saw amazed her paintings of what people thought of space expressing their thoughts of the solar system through ART!

As she continued to look through a stunning artwork of stars and planet landscapes Meg didn't notice some old faces from her school walk into the shop and that happened to be Connie D'Amico and her friends Tina, Scott, Doug it was quite a while since she saw Connie last ever since she got in trouble for framing her mom and faking her death rumor had it that her parents sent her to boarding school for a while to straighten her out but it seems she was still carrying bad habits. a bit nervous try to make her look small in the corner placing the book in front of her face hoping they wouldn't notice or whatever they were here for she hopes it would be quick. Thankfully they didn't seem to notice or recognize her due to her new appearance kind of made her wonder if the superhero disguise really works? Oh she kept the book close to her face as a cover (keep calm Meg just keep calm if they do begin to notice pretend that you're too busy looking at starlight as her bullies school we're discussing their orders it was then that a couple of more students came in Julius and Clemont who have recently became part Connie's friend group having become pretty good friends with Doug and Scott so Connie accepted them into the group while Connie and Gina ordered the lattes it was that Clemont a tall guy known for his signature look of an orange shirt blue jeans and brown hiking boots and always wearing a green and white cap backwards on his chestnut hair with big brown eyes that suddenly noticed Meg in the corner but due to her different appearance he only saw a new girl never meet before sitting by the couch engrossed in the pages of a book even if he couldn't see her face he couldn't help but see that she was really cute.

He whispered and nudged to Julius and Doug "hey guys check out the cute chick in the pink sweatshirt." Nodding his head to the direction where Meg was sitting and as if on cue the rising rays of the morning sun peek through the window just right and a warm soft glow"man definitely talk about a cutie all sweet in pink!" Doug commented, "I never seen her around school before maybe she's new?" Replied Julius who was also in all of the pretty girl reading a book in the corner unaware of who she really was they were so distracted looking at her that they didn't notice Connie, Gina and Scott (but he was busy on the phone texting his boyfriend) trying to get their attention that it was their turn to order "hey what's got you guys distracted?" She spoke a bit louder slightly annoyed finally getting their attention geez she was gone for a few months and it seems they always forget she's popular. The guys look slightly embarrassed and apologize. "Sorry Connie we were just uhh..." Doug tried to explain without trying to upset Connie to which she just scuffed “whatever it doesn't matter just pay attention next time." Brushing her long blonde hair over her shoulder still annoyed by Doug's excuse until she noticed by what the guys’ distraction she found out what she saw. Oh it's so it's a new pretty face reading some stupid book scoff what's so special about her she's probably some nerd geek or freak from what she could see the book she was reading it must be dumb science space stuff that all geeks or freaks seem to be interested in.

A sound of a ding came from the counter as a worker called out for an order "Irish cream coffee with a raspberry cream donut for M your order is ready?" Meant for Meg knowing she had to answer taking a cautious breath she set the book down and to quickly make her way to the counter trying to avoid eye contact with Connie and them whose eyes widen in surprise of the strange new girl's face!

A face Connie immediately felt threatened in beauty standards soft snow white skin with rosy cheeks, natural deep red pink lips, rich chocolate hair and eyes that are like sparkling gems all deep blue and purple! She was short (making her relief on that knowing that she's hotter and taller than this shortcake) but still can see this girl had a really cute figure on her even with her clothes hiding it. In the meantime Meg decided to continue to ignore them as she got her order and saying a soft "thank you.)She quickly made her way to the book section to avoid the popular kids and hopefully be able to relax again after they left and have her coffee in peace.

They also wonder why they never seen her in school before whoever she is Connie would definitely want to make sure to let this one know Who She Is "hey you and the freak in the pink hood!" Oh no Meg nearly froze out of fear but soon turn to annoyance she realized she couldn't let Connie stomp on her like that even if she didn't recognize her that should not give her a right to bully someone she barely knows standing her ground she turned towards her old bully "excuse me I appreciate that you don't call me freak when you barely even know me." Replying coldly a frown on her face "what did you say..?"

Connie was surprise how much guts this girl had very few ever stood up to her and gave her a taste of her own medicine "you barely know me and yet you have the spoiled snot nose attitude to be rude to strangers" This girl's attitude towards Connie surprised her friends not taking Connie's crap like a most teens do the popular crowd "who the hell are you anyway freak!?" Growled Connie raising her hand wanting to slap the girl but was suddenly stopped by Doug gently grabbing her hand "whoa hey take it easy Connie." He calmly said noticing people from the counter staring "people are noticing plus just got back and you don't want to cause trouble and have your parents find out right?"

Trying to talk some sense into the 18 yrs old she was already out of very hot water with her parents warning her that is she gets in trouble one more time she will face worse consequences then boarding school.

Letting out a frustrated groan Connie reluctantly backed off but not without having the last laugh as Meg turned to leave she secretly stick her foot out at Meg's feet trying to trip her and cause her hot coffee to spilled all over her but the reverse happen instead the angle caused Meg to trip backwards and her order to fall towards Connie as he coffee lid fell loose from her grip as Meg tried to regain her balance causing the hot liquid to spill all over Connie's shirt down towards her pants making it look like she wet herself as she let out yell!Thankfully the coffee wasn't dangerous hot when she looked at check her skin it was slightly tented red but still hurt a bit "my new sweater!"Meg looked a bit concerned for Connie but it was her fault that she caused Meg to trip and loose her balance "hey are you all right here?"She tried handing Connie some napkins she had try to help clean the coffee on her clothes but Connie angrily smack her hand away hard causing Meg to quickly retreat your hand back "whoa hey!"cradling her hand "I don't need your pity freak!"scorning "and you're going to pay for ruining my new sweater this was a polyester! Now I'm going to have to go get a professionally cleaned because of your stupid coffee!" Meg's frown deepen "hey I wasn't the one who tried to trip me and not ended up having hot coffee all over themselves actually I think you deserve it for being a bigtoed two-faced bullies like you!" She was really getting sick of this crap and was ready to leave her mood already getting ruined so much for a peaceful morning "her hand that was smack quickly grabbed in a tight grip "ouch! hey that hurt let go!"!" She cried trying to remove her wrist from Connie's grip her friends trying to convince her to stop some people were watching and they were going to get kicked out but Connie definitely wouldn't listen not until she gave this freak a good few slaps to put her in her place! While everyone was distracted by the commotion a familiar figure walked into the shop a little bell dinging their arrival but everyone was too busy with the little fight happening which the person noticed and was not happy about that no building is going to happen on her watch today! As Connie was about to slam her hand against Meg's face closing her eyes for the impact but it never came? That's when she heard a familiar voice "All right now that is enough! " opening her eyes Meg's eyes widen by her unexpected rescuer (Mrs.Brown?)

what happens next in Chapter 2:Lets talk

#meg griffin fanfic #meg griffin #meg #fanfiction

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badluck990 · 1 year ago

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I saw a post that reminded me of a story but I didn't want to derail the oringal point so you're getting a storytime post.

One thing I would do when I finished my school work I would write out stories in script formatt in the back of my notebook.

Well before I got a folder dedicated to my writing but I didn't have thst at the time so I just tore it out and put it in my biology folder since I wrote it during biology.

Well fast forward a couple days and I had to turn in my notes. Having long forgotten my scripts were in there I emptied all the papers in my folder into the turn in tray.

Fast forward a week and we get our notes back but...

My teacher, very confused, asks the class if anyone turned in a script.

It took me a moment to realize that was almost definitely mine and awkward walk up to the front to retrieve it.

She tried to quietly assure me she didn't read it but I was more embarrassed because everyone was watching this.

The fun part of this I was usually the last one to leave this class since I had a system on witch side of the folder papers went so I'd take a moment to make sure I put everything away properly.

And while it was just us she told me she really liked it.

So yeah, she did read it... Thats not the story.

A couple days later class finished out early and while waiting for the bell to ring I was working on another script and she asked if she could read it when it was done.

I admitted it was a mid-game scene that needed a lot of context to explain and hoped I didn't sound like I didn't want her to read it since that was an honest anwser.

She said that if I wrote the contextout or got to class early to talk for a bit she'd read that/listen.

So I wrote out a couple pages of explanation of Black and white magic and how they worked and gave it to her.

The next time she passed back papers my notebook paper was among them and she left a sticky note on the top saying

'You could be the next Rowling'

And all I could think was, "Dont compare me to her."

#aaa #storytime #i forced a smile since I knew she meant well

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djtheabishai · 2 years ago

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Master! Part: 1/?

Barbatos feels he hasn't done enough for the last couple days and decides to ask Simeon for help.

This was originally gonna be 2 parts but Tumbler has word limits, so it's gonna have to broken into more than 2 (maybe 3 or more). Part 2 I already up, but it isn't as long as this part

For only Two parts (like intended), It is also up on my AO3 (Archive of Our Own) page under Dizzy_Sight.

For all the parts that's currently up, click the "Master! Simebarb" Tag

/\/\/\/\/\/

The bell just rang for lunch at R.A.D. and Simeon quickly gathered his bag and swung it over his head, letting strap cross his chest. He was hungry. More hungry then usual when the lunch bell rang. He didn't have time to eat breakfast since he, Luke and Solomon woke up late. From what Solomon explained, the power kicked off and on sometime in the night and resest the clocks. Apparently it's a common thing in the Human Realm. As for the phones, their phones had a system update and turned off their alarms . If it wasn't for MC calling Solomon to wonder why he isn't where they planned to meet, they'd still be alseep. As soon as Simeon stepped one foot out the classroom, his phone dinged. Moving out the way of hungry students, he stood on the side of the hallway and checked who messaged him. His eyes widen a bit and a small heat rose to his cheeks to find it was Barbatos who messaged him. Barbatos: I'm sorry to bother you on your way to lunch, but I was wondering if you would join me for lunch today. There's something I'd like to discuss with you. Join the Steward for lunch? The angel thought. I'm rarely asked to join him for lunch. At least during school days. Any other time, we'd spend hours talking. Speaking of which. Simeon: What do you want to talk about? Barbatos: That's something I'd rather talk about in person. Simeon: Alright. Where do you want to meet? Barbatos: Meet me in Music Room No. 3 on the 2nd Floor. Don't worry about getting your lunch. I already have that covered. Music Room 3? Isn't that room abandoned? If so, it's probably the reason why he wants to talk there. So no one can overhear what he has to say. Simeon: I'm on my way. Barbatos: See you soon. And with that, their message conversation ended. Simeon was a bit relieved he didn't have to go far to eat. The music room was closer to him then the cafeteria. He was also a bit nervous. What did Barbatos want to talk about? Was it about Luke? I hope he's approving in his baking skills. Or was it about D.J.? Please don't let me hear anything negative about her! He frowned at the thought of his oldest getting in trouble again.

He messaged the others to let them know he won't be joining them for lunch today. MC: You won't? Where you going?

Simeon: Barbatos invited me to join him for lunch today. Solomon: Oh? Where are you eating? Simeon: In Music Room No. 3. MC: The abandoned music room?

Simeon: That's the one Luke: Don't let that demon try anything! Solomon: I highly doubt Barbatos is gonna do anything on him, Luke. He isn't Asmo. MC: You'd know that all too well, wouldn't you Solomon? Solomon said nothing in response while MC and Luke started talking about something else. Turning around and putting his phone on silent, Simeon put his phone away and found the nearest set of stairs a couple classrooms down. The angel climbed up them, taking the right set of stairs to the second floor. After passing a few classrooms, that had a couple students in them still, he reached the abandoned music room and opened the door. Peeking inside, he found large instruments covered in dusty white cloths. One he knew for sure was a piano.

Why would Barbatos of all demons want to come to a dusty room to talk? Unless he plans on cleaning it after we eat.The angel thought, walking over to the covered piano. Dust lingered in the air, as it tickled his nose and made him sneeze. He then a heard a chuckled coming from somewhere in the room. "My, my, " the voice said, a he could see a shadowy figure walking behind the curtain that paritly covered the hidden piano. He figure appeared to be Barbatos, in his demon form. The demon's tail raised, holding a duster between the tips. "bless you. I apologize for making you sneeze, I was dusting before you got here. I was hoping to at least get some part of the room decent enough for us eat, but I guess, that won't be possible with dust flying everywhere." He said, looking behind himself and letting out a small huff and frowned. He then looks back at Simeon and smiled. The demon grabbed the angel's hands and held them as he leaned in to kiss him. Simeon met him halfway. It was a soft, yet firm kiss. Butterflies fluttered around the angel's stomach and electricity shot through his body. The feel of the demon's lips on his was very sinful, yet exciting at the same time. If only demons and angels were allowed to be together, the two would have nothing to hide from their worlds. But it's also the thought of being caught by the wrong people is what made it so thrilling. The steward pulled away and looked at him with a small blush on his face and a smile. Simeon noticed Barbatos's tail no longer held the duster and was swaying a bit back and forth, tail tips twisting around each other. "How my angel doing?" Barbatos asked. The angel waved their arms in and out a bit. "I'm doing really good actually. So is Luke. He's really excited for your next lesson tomorrow." Simeon told him. " As am I, but I said "angel" not "angels"." The steward pointed out, letting go of Simeon's hands and pulled him closer to him by his waist. He then crossed his arms over Simeon's back and let his wrists sit on the angel's tail bone. Simeon wrapped his arms around the steward's neck and met him half way in another kiss. This time it was more passionate. The angel felt something slightly damp slither across his back. It only took a second for him to realize it was only the demon's tail wrapping itself around the two, pushing the two closer together where their chests touched. Neither one of them showed they minded, as they tightened their arms to bring their heads and waists closer as the butler slid his tongue inside the angel's mouth. The angel moaned as their tongues danced together in a playful fight for dominance. Barbatos slid one hand from behind the angel's back and rubbed his fingertips over Simeon's exposed side. The angel gasped and quietly moaned as the demon moved, kissing from his lips to his neck, the angel moving his head to give him more access. Simeon shuddered and blushed more, bitting but bottom lip from feeling Barbatos's teeth scrapped against his sensitive spot at the side of his neck. Barbatos was about to bite the angel, to mark him as his when the angel's stomach growled. They both froze and Simeon went very stiff, face going a very dark red. Barbatos chuckled and pulled away from the angel's neck to see his lover's face bright red dispite his dark color.

#obey me #barbatos x simeon #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #simeon x barbatos #shall we date #obey me shall we date #Simebarb #Master! Simebarb

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