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ikiprian · 2 months

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Barbara Gordon's Coding & Computer Cram School is a popular YouTube series. Tucker Foley is a star student.

Barbara Gordon's Cram School posts free online courses for both coding and computer engineering. Think Crash Course in terms of entertainment, but college lecture in terms of depth. Hundreds of thousands of viewers flock to it— students who missed a class, people looking to add new skills to a resume, even simple hobbyists. It’s a project Barbara’s proud of.

Sometimes, when she wants to relax, she’ll even hop in the comments and spend an afternoon troubleshooting a viewer’s project with them.

User “Fryer-Tuck” has especially interesting ones. Barbara finds herself seeking out his comments, checking in on whatever this crazy kid is making next. An app for collecting GPS pings and assembling them on a map in real-time, an algorithm that connects geographic points to predict something’s movement taking a hundred other variables into account, simplified versions of incredibly complex homemade programs so they can run on incredibly limited CPU’s.

(Barbara wants to buy the kid a PC. It seems he’s got natural talent, but he keeps making reference to a PDA. Talk about 90’s! This guy’s hardware probably predates his birth.)

She chats with him more and more, switching to less public PM threads, and eventually, he opens up. His latest project, though, is not something Barbara has personal experience with.

FT: so if you found, hypothetically, a mysterious glowing substance that affects tech in weird and wacky ways that could totally have potential but might be vaguely sentient/otherworldly…. what would you do and how would you experiment with it. safely, of course. and hypothetically

BG: I’d make sure all my tests were in disposable devices and quarantined programs to keep it from infecting my important stuff. Dare I ask… how weird and wacky is it?

FT: uhhh. theoretically, a person composed of this substance once used it to enter a video game. like physical body, into the computer, onto the screen? moving around and talking and fighting enemies within the game?

FT: its been experimented with before, but not on any tech with a brain. just basic shields and blasters and stuff, its an energy source. also was put in a car once

FT: i wanna see how it affects software, yk? bc i already know it can. mess around and see how far i can push it

BG: […]

FT: … barbara?

BG: Sorry, thinking. Would you mind sharing more details? You said “blasters?”

Honestly. Kid genius with access to some truly wacky materials and even wackier weapons, she needs to start a file on him before he full sends to either hero or villain.

[OR: Tucker is a self-taught hacker, but if he were to credit a teacher, he'd name Barbara Gordon's Coding & Computer Cram School! He's even caught the attention of Dr. Gordon herself. She's full of sage advice, and with how she preaches the value of a good VPN, he's sure she's not pro-government. Maybe she'll help him as he studies the many applications of ecto-tech!]

#she does end up sending tucker a PC lol #and after she learns he has experience supporting a superhero team maybe pushes his name forward to WEs outreach program for r&d potentials #picks him up by the scruff and says MY coding buddy #also fun fact she had a phd in library science at one point. i like that about her i think we should talk about it a little more #also tucker was making a ghost reporting & tracking app for amity parkers #dpxdc #dcxdp #barbara gordon #tucker foley #prompt #kipwrite

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pascalpanic · 3 years

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Miller Morales Mechanic Shop (Frankie Morales x f!Reader)

Part One of Miller Morales Mechanic Shop

Summary: Something is wrong with your car. What, exactly? You have no clue. So you bring it in to some professionals- who also have a toddler running around the shop.

W/C: 2.3k

Warnings: language, Frankie is a dad, brief mention of divorce and trauma bc poor Frankie, there is a child heavily involved in this so if you don’t like kids this isn’t for you :)

A/N: WELCOME TO PART ONE EVERYONE! This is such a cute AU and I’m BEYOND excited to start sharing it with you all! I don’t know how many parts this will be or anything but I can’t wait to take it and run with it.

Marisol Morales behaves for very few people. One of those is Ben Miller. Unfortunately, she has decided to break her own rules today.

Frankie loves summer. He loves his little girl playing outside in her baby pool, taking her for walks around the neighborhood with their three-legged dog, all of the fun parts. The hard part is when the nanny goes on a vacation and Mari has to come to work with him.

Benny and Frankie, ever since the chaos that was the Lorea mission, run a small mechanic shop together. Miller Morales Mechanic Shop isn’t necessarily the busiest place in town, but they make enough to get by and have some disposable income too. Mari loves to hang around the shop with her daddy and uncle. She’s there more than Frankie would like, but he supposes it’s not the worst thing in the world. When Frankie and Jules split and Frankie won full custody, he’d hoped a nanny would take care of most everything when Mari is home all day in summer. Sadly, he was in for a rude awakening when no Mary Poppins showed up on his doorstep.

It’s normally not too bad; Benny hung the moon in Mari’s eyes. If she won’t do something for her daddy, which is still somewhat rare, she’ll always do it for her Uncle Benny. That makes the day run much smoother. Mari has a whole host of quiet-time activities and toys to play with, and the men generally trade off periods of either working on the cars or being with the little girl.

Her favorite activities at the shop include drawing on the concrete with thick sticks of chalk and playing with her toy helicopters and planes. Benny insists tanks are cooler, but Mari prefers flying her Polly Pockets in the chopper, running through the garage and making flight noises. She’s a smart little thing; for her age, she’s picked up big words and can make sentences out of three words, which is quite a stretch for a baby just over two years of age. She calls for Benny and Daddy and knows the names of his tools: wench, scu-dwive, and her favorite, win-seeled wipe fwuid. She loves to babble at customers while they get their oil changed.

Being shit with cars is no fun. It only increases the anxiety when some light flashes on your dashboard. The lights can mean so many things that you find it ridiculous; “check engine”? Check it for what? To save yourself the anxiety, you find your nearest mechanic and pay them to deal with it.

Today, as you pull over into a gas station, you check your phone and find that the nearest shop is a place you haven’t heard of. It must be new. Miller Morales Mechanic Shop, 0.6 miles away. The name implies something more local and homegrown. You’re more than willing to support a place like that, so you start up the engine, pray you don’t explode, and make your way over to the shop.

It’s nearby, like the map indicated. The outside is a quaint little place, tucked in a strip mall next to a coffee shop, a dentist, and an insurance agency. The three car bays are empty, and knowing next to nothing about how these shops work, you pull inside and park your car, letting it run as you wait for an employee. The bell dinged to let them know you were here, so you stay patient and listen idly to the hum of the talk radio show from your car’s speakers.

After a minute or two pass, you realize that maybe this wasn’t the right place to be. Maybe you were supposed to go in the front or something. Concluding that you probably aren’t where you’re supposed to be, you turn off the car and get out only to be greeted by the sound of buzzing lips.

You can hear a baby’s voice, mimicking some kind of vehicle’s sound, and for a second you’re worried this place must have you hearing things. Then, from a swinging door to the front comes a little girl, running and babbling to herself about her toy helicopter.

She has a head full of dark brown curls, tied back into two puffs with pink scrunchies, and matching pink leggings and a t-shirt far too big for her, the back emblazoned with the shop’s logo. She’s barefoot, tiny feet slapping against the cold cement.

“I told you I had to piss, Fish!” A man’s voice shouts from one end of the garage.

“No you didn’t, dipshit!” Another man shouts back. Being caught in the middle of their argument is quite comical, if you’re being honest with yourself. “She’s fucking two! You can’t leave her alone like that, man!”

The first voice is matched to a person as a tall blonde man emerges from the customer service side of the shop. “Marisol Morales, come here,” he insists sternly as he rolls up the sleeves of his jumpsuit. “Come on, you’re gonna trip.” Ben is embroidered on a patch over his heart.

She pouts at him before stumbling forward and continuing to run, stopping as she sees you and looking up in confusion. Her lower lip sticks out in a pout as her eyes scan your face, as if she’s trying to remember if she knows who you are. “Hi,” she finally concedes as you bend to her level.

“Hi there,” you smile and hold out a hand. “What’s your name?” You pick her up, holding her on your hip so that she doesn’t trip, like Ben so desperately feared.

The second, unknown voice shouts for the little girl again before boots clunk on concrete up to you, rounding your car and stopping. This must be the girl’s father, you realize, as you rake your eyes up his body. He wears the same navy blue jumpsuit as the other man, though it’s unsnapped over his chest, exposing the white t-shirt beneath. The patch on his chest reads Catfish. He wears a ball cap and warm brown curls peek out from under it. He has scruff and a hooked nose that perfectly matches the one on the little girl. “I Mari,” she introduces herself proudly.

“Hey, leave her alone, Mar,” the man shakes his head as he hoists her up to hold her on his hip. “I’m so sorry about that,” he says with an embarrassed smile, showing a dimple beneath the scruff on his chin.

“No, it’s not a problem,” you laugh then set her down and tell the little girl your name. “Aren’t you just the cutest?” You chuckle as she looks at you. She blushes and buries her face in the man’s chest, giggling shyly.

He looks down at the little girl then up at you again. “Well, uh, hi. I’m Frankie, and you’ve met Mari already.”

“Your daughter?” you ask as you look at the pudgy little girl, who now stares at you in awe.

Frankie nods and adjusts his ball cap, pushing his hair back with it. “Yep. Our nanny is on vacation, so she gets to hang out around here,” he chuckles and kisses her head, setting her down. “Go see Benny, yeah?” He asks her. She happily waddles off towards the blonde man, who gives you a wave then heads into the back. “What brings you in?”

“Would you laugh if I told you I don’t really know?” You admit with a shy smile. “My check engine light came on while I was on the highway. I don’t know the first thing about cars, so I was hoping you’d figure out what that meant.”

“Nah, no laughing here,” he nods and gives you a genuine smile before looking over at your car. “Shouldn’t be too much of a problem. I’ll have you pop the hood for me and I’ll give it a look?” He asks.

“That would be great. Thank you,” you tell him, the desperation for his help in your voice. Now that you get the chance to really look at him, he’s quite attractive. His eyes are deep set and a beautiful brown, and they crinkle when he smiles. Facial expressions only accentuate the lines in his face, but he’s certainly not old. His eyes still hold his youth.

“No problem.” He leads you to the car and you pop the hood open before getting out. “Could I take your keys?” he asks you. “Just so I can turn it on and off and all that good stuff.”

“Yeah, of course,” you nod frantically and hand them over to him. “I’ll… be in the waiting room?”

“That’s how we usually do it,” he chuckles as he takes the keys from you. “Just shout for Benny if Mari annoys you again.”

That makes you frown. “She’s not annoying at all. She’s adorable,” you smile as you look over your shoulder and see her and the blonde man playing together.

“The two aren’t mutually exclusive,” he laughs and points his wrench at you as he walks to the hood of the car.

Shaking your head, you can’t help but laugh as you head back to the waiting room. You walk in and Mari perks up, turning to look at you. “Hi! Playing helicopter,” she tells you in her stunted speech as she holds up the toy.

“You sure are,” you nod and sit next to her. “Can I play?” You ask, looking up at Benny, silently asking him the question too.

He nods and Mari squeals happily. “Friend!” She shrieks and hands you another helicopter. “Go pew pew, okay?” She drags them across the toy mat like they’re cars, and you follow suit.

“Okay,” you laugh. Looking up at the blonde man, you extend a smile his way and introduce yourself. He’s busy repairing a Barbie dollhouse with a screwdriver.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Ben, Benny, whatever you wanna call me.”

Driving your helicopter around the ground, following Mari’s lead, you chuckle. “No preference?”

“Fish calls me Benny.”

“Fish?” You ask and tip your head.

“Frankie, whatever. We’re buddies from the service. His code name was Catfish,” the man explains with a shrug, testing the hinges of the plastic door.

That makes you smile down at Frankie’s daughter. “Really, just buddies? Could’ve sworn you’d be brothers,” you tease the blonde, blue-eyed man. “Does Frankie know how to do his daughter’s hair?” You ask and fiddle with her two pigtails.

“Yes, he does,” Frankie insists as he walks out to the front, cleaning a wrench. “But just barely.”

You look up at him, embarrassed. “Her pigtails just look a little messy. Then again, she was running around like crazy,” you laugh and watch her rush over to Frankie, insisting he pick her up.

Bending down to grab her, Frankie groans at the ache in his joints. “She was. I could use some pointers, if you’ve got ‘em.”

“Of course,” you nod and stand too, brushing the dust from the concrete floor off on your pants. “What’s the verdict on the car?” You ask.

Frankie turned, watching as Benny walks out to the shop, but he turns back to face you. “Oh, right. The engine was misfiring, and unburned fuel was being put into the exhaust system, and that damaged the catalytic converter.”

You nod as you listen to him, really staring at his face more than anything. He’s just so damn pretty, you note as you admire the curve of his nose, his slightly sunken and dark eyes. His lips look beautiful and soft, even though they seem a little chapped. When he stops talking, it takes you a second to process it. “I don’t know what that means,” you admit with a shy smile. “I told you. I don’t know shit about cars,” you laugh, playing it off like you were lost when you were really lost in his eyes.

He shakes his head and laughs, bouncing Mari on his hip. “Your car is gonna need some work. Couple hours,” he shrugs. “If Benny and I get to working on it together, an hour and a half, maybe?” He admits.

“Yeah, that’s great. I can watch Mari,” you offer.

Frankie would never be this trusting normally. You’re a straight-up stranger, but your demeanor is good enough for him. Besides, you’re right here. He can check on the two of you every so often, and Mari seems to love you. “That would be great,” he smiles. “You really don’t have to.”

“No, I have nothing better to do,” you chuckle and look at the little girl. “You wanna play?”

Mari nods excitedly and Frankie sets her down. She rushes back to her toy mat and you watch her go. “Thank you, again, for fixing all this.”

“Just doing my job,” he nods. This time, it’s his turn to admire you. He stares at your face, examining the curves and angles that make you up. Your eyes are kind and warm as they follow the little girl, and he can see that he’s making a good choice here.

When you sit down, Mari comes and sits cross-legged across from you. “What are we gonna play?” You ask her, looking at her wide variety of toys. Her pile includes dinosaurs, Matchbox cars, lots of toy helicopters and planes, Barbie dolls, and a plastic tea set.

“Tea party!” She says and hands you a tiny plastic cup and a felt muffin.

“Oh my goodness,” you gasp in a fake accent. “How delightful!”

Frankie peeks over his shoulder at the two of you. He could really get used to that sight.

taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @blo0dangel @binarydanvvers @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl @notabotiswear @pedro-pastel @sanchosammy @lv7867 @greeneyedblondie44 @hunnambabe @astoryisaloveaffair @emesispo @pedritobalmando @magikfanatic @a-court-of-feysand-and-elorcan @princess76179 @deltadebelleza @tacticalsparkles @queridopascal @wintermuteway @maievdenoir @dobbyjen @beskarboobs

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arisalty · 5 years

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All My Life I’ve Been so Lonely

(Quick A/N, I would like to say thanks to my beta reader Elbie. This is my first time actually completing a fic for the Sanders Sides fandom but it is also the first time I’ve EVER tried writing angst. So... yeah. Also, it’s a Soulmate AU)

(Also I asked the Powerless discord what names for the dogs with no context except a young Patton named them and received an “Aww” in reactions *cough Moon and Dallas*. If only they knew.)

Pairing: Logicality, platonic Prinxiety, platonic Analogince (kinda???)

AO3

Tw: Major Character Death, Car Accident, Bullying, discriminatory language/slurs

Logan had always left little messages from when he was a child and always received little ones back. When he was younger, little doodles like smiley faces, geometric shapes and simple words like “hello” and “How are you?”. As he grew, they turned into late night conversations, maths workings for the other and secret codes made and lost in memories.

He met Patton when he was 7, their parents working together to set up a surprise meeting for Patton’s birthday.

They were best friends, constantly talking. Patton brought out the boldness behind the quiet mask of shyness Logan constantly had, and Logan influenced Patton by enhancing his curiosity by the occasional ramble about something really cool, like the stars.

They had so much in common, but also so many things different between them. They were a perfect match together, bringing out the best parts of both. It was to be expected, they were soulmates, but not all soulmates start off with such a good connection.

They did everything they could together- birthday parties, vacations, Christmases; they were basically joined at the hip.

Logan wished he could say he couldn't remember anything from the 18th of November, but if there was one thing Patton had drilled into his mind, it was that lies were bad and that lies could destroy the world if someone used them right.

And so once again the memory was dragged up as he sat alone.

The day started out with him rising to find a little message in cyan scrawled on the inside of his wrist; “Good morning, Lo! Meet at the park like usual? :)”

Logan grabbed his blue ballpoint pen and wrote back a quick “Of course, Patton”.

Logan got out of bed, showered, dressed, ate (he had eggs on toast), grabbed his school bag and left for school. He met Patton at the corner of the park like usual and got into registration with plenty of time before school started.

Math was first- they revisited the area of shapes that day- then geography (it was a pop quiz), break, Science and English (then lunch, like usual) before finishing the day with cooking.

Cooking was always a fun lesson, due to their class being, well, children, and cooking such things as pizza and banana bread and kebabs. Powdered sugar often coated most surfaces, which oddly never happened when a member of staff was present, only when their back was turned, and Logan was not even going to get started about the time they were able to use barbecue sauce.

But Logan took an extra club after school- further maths, because-- cmon, it’s not that weird to like maths, is it?

But either way, Logan stayed back an hour after school while Patton got a ride home.

Logan was about halfway through the time there (their current project was about using Excel mathematically) when he received a message on his arm in Patton's mother, Tracy’s handwriting;

𝐿𝑜𝑔𝒶𝓃,

𝒫𝒶𝓉𝓉𝑜𝓃… 𝒫𝒶𝓉𝓉𝑜𝓃’𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝑜𝓀𝒶𝓎.

𝐻𝑒’𝓈 𝒷𝑒𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝒶𝓀𝑒𝓃 𝓉𝑜 𝒽𝑜𝓈𝓅𝒾𝓉𝒶𝓁 𝒷𝓎 𝒶𝒾𝓇- 𝐼’𝓂 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝒽𝒾𝓂 𝓃𝑜𝓌. 𝒜𝓁𝒶𝓃’𝓈 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝒾𝓇 𝓇𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝓉𝑜 𝓅𝒾𝒸𝓀 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓊𝓅.

𝐼’𝓂 𝓈𝑜𝓇𝓇𝓎 𝓉𝑜 𝒹𝒾𝓈𝓇𝓊𝓅𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒸𝓁𝓊𝒷 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝐼 𝒻𝑒𝑒𝓁 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓃𝑒𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝑜 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝑒. 𝒴𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓂𝑜𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇𝓈 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝓂𝑒𝑒𝓉 𝓊𝓈 𝒶𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒽𝑜𝓈𝓅𝒾𝓉𝒶𝓁 𝒶𝓈 𝓈𝑜𝑜𝓃 𝒶𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝒾𝓇 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓀 𝒻𝒾𝓃𝒾𝓈𝒽𝑒𝓈.

𝒯𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓎

Logan felt his hand clench on the piece of paper he was holding. Muffled noises of other students, almost mechanical movement as he picked up his bag, with a jumbled and confusing talk with the teacher and rushed down to the office where Alan was already waiting, having signed Logan out already.

The car ride was almost silent except a quiet “What happened?” from Logan.

Alan took a deep breath, eyes trained on the road.

“He had taken Spot and Buddy out for a walk to pass the time before you came home. You know how restless he can get. And apparently, Buddy broke into a run and ran into the road, and Patton followed to pick him back up to move him onto the pavement, and that’s when the car… Well, you’re a smart boy, Logan. You can work it out.”

Silence fell over the car until they reached the hospital.

Once they reached the right area, they found Tracy sat outside, the woman wiping away a stray tear.

“The doctors are with him now. They’ve already found at least 2 broken ribs and a broken leg, but he’s lost a lot of blood.” her voice dropped as she tried to calm a stuttering breath. “They aren’t sure if he’ll be able to make it.”

Logan sat slowly, shock leaving him with no words, and he found that it was probably for the best that he remained without speaking.

His best friend, his soulmate was dying. He should’ve been there. It was his fault. He should’ve been there. Patton wouldn’t have been restless. He could’ve warned Patton. He us shouldn’t have taken the club.

The doctors came out about half an hour later, and one of Logan’s moms had arrived. The talked in hushed voices to Alan, but everyone could see the drop in his face, the sadness dragging the corners of his lips downwards. Logan was curled into a ball on his mother’s lap, not sobbing, but occasionally another tear would silently follow the glistening path of many that preceded it.

As a face fell, as did the hopes and feelings. Everyone seemed to huddle together more, and Logan choked back a sob, only for it to escape quietly from his mouth, the rest of his breath shaky. Tracy was wiping away tears of her own, leaning into Alan who had moved to embrace his wife. Logan’s mom, Cassie, was wrapped around Logan protectively, rocking gently as she stroked Logan's head.

It was from that moment that Logan was drawing himself back into his shell of shyness and fear.

His once dramatic self he had found with Patton almost completely disappeared.

He moved away not much longer; he couldn’t bear the memories that surrounded the town. Everything reminded him of Patton.

Buddy had been put down after he also got hit by the car, but Spot was given to him to look after.

In the new school he was at, Logan didn’t really make any friends, but one group, the more weird ones and the nerds took him in. But he refused to talk about soulmates. And the closest ones never asked.

However, being a quiet nerd with two moms around the age of 14 would never work out well.

“Oh look, it’s the nerd with the fags for moms!” The boys surrounding him laughed along with his friend.

“Leave me alone,” came a quiet reply.

“Oh I’m sorry, I can’t hear you, but I bet your about to burst into tears.”

“Ooooh, do we need to call mommy to kiss your pride better?”

Logan pressed his eyes closed, trying to ignore the discriminatory idiots around him.

“I feel sorry for your soulmate,” another one went on. “I would want to die if I got someone like you.”

Logan clenched his fist, trying to keep his calm.

“I bet he doesn’t even have a soulmate.”

And then Logan snapped.

“What do you know? You haven’t ever... ever had the chance to get close to your soulmate to have him ripped away from you! You’ve not been through the pain I have. You will never care about those around you. You only care for yourselves. You only care to make yourselves better than others. Well, newsflash, you aren’t, and you will never, ever, in the rest of your lives be better than anyone.”

The group were shocked silent briefly as the boy in front of them was known for not ever retaliating to jibes, but then the head of the group, Samuel Matthews, spoke up.

“Him? So not only were you raised by fags, but you are a faggot yourself? Ha!”

The other boys took this as newfound ammunition, crowding around, enclosing him against the fence where he was sat.

“Just… leave me alone.”

“As if, Fa-“

“Finish that insult and I will not hesitate to punch you.” Logan looked up quickly to see that a taller, older kid had dragged Matthews back by the scruff of his clothes.

“Leave the kid alone, you foul creatures!” Roman Hartley stood the the side, arms on his hips as he glared at the bullies.

“You heard him, fuckers. Go!” The taller, lankier kid glared from underneath his bangs.

The bullies stood their ground, until Matthews muttered a quick “c’mon. We aren’t gonna beat this.”

Once the bullies were gone, Virgil went and seated himself next to Logan, holding out a hand.

“Virgil Evans, sorry you had to go through that. They’re real dicks. Oh, and this is my friend, Roman Hartley, but you probably already know that. He has a habit to broadcast himself.”

“Rude.”

Logan was aware that they were a good two years older, and that most of the time, same years stuck together and didn’t mix with lower or higher ones.

“C’mon bud, let’s go get you a snack.”

Virgil slung his arm over Logan’s shoulder, guiding him to stand up and move towards the hall and canteen. Roman cracked a joke, and Logan let himself share a tiny grin with the two.

Yes, Logan still felt broken after 3 years of Patton being gone, but Logan could be fixed, he just needed the right people.

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