#why r you here you have a third grade reading level | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dyingrosesandwriting · 4 years

Text

Home (Yandere x Reader)

Word count: ~2100

“I can’t believe I wrote this.” Muttered a quiet voice in the dark.

“I mean, this is so repetitive and boring!” Exclaimed the figure in the dark, obscured by a blanket thrown over herself, light from her device creating a silhouette visible from the window. Not like anyone would see, or at least that was what you thought.

However, you were very wrong, as unbeknownst to you, a male sat right outside your window. He was cloaked in shadows and a hoodie, while wearing a grin on his face. As the unknown male peered through your window, you got out of the tent of sheets and walked out of your room to the hall.

“Now’s my chance” muttered your stalker with a chuckle, as he started picking the your window lock.

You stood in your bathroom, brushing your teeth, when you heard a noise come from your room, shaking, you put your toothbrush back and went inside to investigate.

“Hello?” You called out, your voice cracking. Your feet felt like they were freezing on the floorboards.

“I have a weapon you know!” You shouted, trying to intimidate whatever had intruded your house. You did in fact have a weapon, which meant if worse came to worse, you could probably fight back.

You opened your bedroom door, heart pumping so hard it resonated through your whole body, only to find... Nothing unusual.

You searched through any places that an intruder could hide, behind your cabinets, behind your door, under your bed, and now your closet, the only place left, you had already armed yourself with a kitchen knife and a torch, and with a deep breath you swung open the tall door.

You gasped as you saw a man in front of you, he gave you a smile as you froze up, and spoke with a sickly sweet voice,

“Aww, you found me, babe!” He stepped out of your racks of clothes, revealing his tall, looming figure and something in his hands.

You tried to run, use your weapon, do anything, but fear had petrified you to your spot, and now you were being held down by the man as he held that thing in his hands to your mouth. You realised only too late that it was a chloroform rag as you started to fall unconscious. “Shhhh,” He hushed.

“It’s going to be alright...”

///

“Hey baby, I was wondering when you’d wake up!” Exclaimed a voice from... somewhere.

Yoy couldn’t seem to see until you had blinked a bit, but even then you disregarded the voice and tried to stretch your arms, trying to shake off the tendrils of sleepiness. But to your horror you couldn’t move your arms much at all. You looked around to try and find the cause of it, when you spotted that man from last night sitting at the edge of what was definitely not your bed.

"Did he actually kidnap me?" You thought, your mind started racing with questions, "What’s he going to do to me?" "Am I going to die?" "Why me?" Your thoughts were cut off though as he spoke again.

“Are you ignoring me babe?” He asked,

“You know that won’t end well. For either of us.” He whispered in your ear, causing goose bumps to erupt over your neck.

“Why am I here?” You squeaked out, holding back tears. The man noticed your fear and started rubbing your cheek despite your obvious discomfort, “You’re here," He paused, "Because I love you.”

“W-what?” You gasped out.

“I have loved you since we first met, in seventh grade, you helped me out all the time!”

“Remember?”

He stared at you expectantly, but you couldn’t remember him, you graduated a year ago, but you'd suppressed those memories long ago.

The man looked familiar though, not with a comforting sense of familiarity, instead with a deep seeded fear, like he’d been responsible for the ‘incident' at the end of seventh grade.

“You don’t remember me?” He asked her, his voice shaky and uneven. You were just about to answer when he’d started screaming,

“You fucking bitch! How could you forget me! We’re soulmates, or are you too much of a whore to remember that?”

All of his shouting had driven you to the point of tears, not like you weren't probably already going to cry. You had tried to hold them back but they flowed across your cheeks as you sobbed quietly, willing your captor to not notice them in fear of being hurt.

“I’m sorry...” He stated calmly, although you could hear his heavy breaths, and stared into your eyes as he started to stroke through your hair. You thought of slapping his hand away but thought of the consequences, and that you couldn’t move your hands.

“I should of known you'd forgotten, seventh grade was pretty traumatic." He sighed, but you felt like he was involved in that trauma.

“I guess I should reintroduce myself then,” He added, with a peck to your blotchy red cheek.

“My name’s Blake.”

“And you babe, helped me out when no one else would!” He shifted off the bed and grabbed a photo album, “Every single day I was tormented by those fucking bastards,” He seemingly struggled to keep his voice level.

“But you always saved me afterwards!” He added with a wide smile and opened up the album to a page full of photos of you, some were from behind, some were seemingly consensual, and others had been taken while you were asleep, and all of them made you incredibly uncomfortable.

You decided to just nod along.

“Did you ever even question why everyone hated me?”

“N-no.”

Blake chuckled and answered. “All of them made a fit just because I followed you home one day,” You felt bile crawl up your throat as your stomach began to turn.

“I was only following you to protect you from those creeps!”

“But, y’ know I taught them all a lesson babe.”

Blake's words had proved exactly what you were dreading.

He’d been responsible for the 'incident' in seventh grade.

///

I stood in front of the school bathroom mirror, freshening up before I’d head out with my boyfriend, or whatever we were now.

I'd confessed to him yesterday and he said he’d liked me too, although not as long as I had, so we'd decided to date.

After about five minutes I finished brushing my hair for the third time today and headed outside the main gate to meet him, but he wasn’t there.

After standing there and looking in every direction, I checked my phone; nothing.

I sent him a text:

where r u???

Sent

I waited ten minutes for a reply, but nothing, not even a ‘seen’. I started to search around, asking the kids who where still hanging around if they’d seen him. A group of them said they’d seen him following another dude through the hall,

“Great,” I thought, “he’s just gonna cop out on me before the first date.”

I figured I should at least find him and tell him my frustration if he wasn’t going to read my texts, so I headed towards the gym, presumably where one of his team members had probably dragged him off to.

As I walked through the hall towards the gym I heard a strange noise; Something muffled.

I quietly stepped towards the door it was coming from, the storage closet, and listened.

“So what did you drag me here for?” Someone asked.

“You took something from me,” Someone else answered back.

“What did I take?” The first person asked, the smugness feeling very familiar.

“YOU FUCKING KNOW!” Roared back the other person. Fearing things were gonna get ugly, I tried to open the door but it wouldn’t budge. I looked around for anyone, but the halls were empty. It must’ve been way past the end bell now so the only people left were in their clubs.

I had one choice: to try stop this while I could.

I prepared myself and rammed the door with my shoulder with all my strength.

First try; it didn’t budge.

Second try; Something smashed in the closet.

Third try; if this didn’t work I’d need to go get help.

But thankfully, it did.

But I wouldn't be so thankful soon.

Just as the door busted open, I saw it. The beaten body of my boyfriend and a tall, dark figure grasping a baseball bat hunched over him.

I tried to reach out to him but the man grabbed my wrist, twisted it, and pushed me to the ground. Through the pain I held back tears as I tried to get up, but what I saw next had me begging for the blurry censorship my tears provided.

I got up, but before I ran for someone to break this up, I tried to punch this psycho while he resumed to beating my boyfriend to a pulp with his bat.

Instead however, he turned right around as my fist collided with his back and struck my shins with his bat, the residual pain keeping me on my knees after the initial strike.

“No, no, you’re gonna watch this,” A voice too deranged to recognise muttered.

He continued to senselessly beat the barely alive mess of flesh, blood and bone that was once my boyfriend into a pulp.

“It’s all for you after all.”

///

“No! No no no no no!” You cried in shock and terror.

“Oh, but yes!” He replied in a mockingly jolly tone, “You have no idea how fucking great it felt to crush that insect of a boyfriend!” He added, licking his lips and thinking with a nostalgic look on his face.

“Just... Why?”

“Why? Isn’t it obvious?”

“I told you already; I love you.”

“I just want you all to myself, tied up and away from all the fucking perves that want you for themselves.” Blake held you tightly in his arms, you knew better than to squirm.

“S-so you wanted them to hate me?” You cried in confusion.

“Well... It certainly wasn’t part of the plan, but how could you have a relationship if everyone thought you killed your last boyfriend?”

“How could you not fall for me? The clumsy but charming guy of your dreams, who was always there?” He asked staring deep into your eyes.

“I mean seriously, how couldn’t you?!” He raised his voice, “I WAS ALWAYS THERE, BUT ALL YOU DID WAS IGNORE ME AND PLAN ON LEAVING THIS ‘DUMPSTER OF A TOWN’!” he continued, voice now booming in the small room.

Your eyes immediately dilated and your palms began to sweat, tears pricking at your eyes once again.

“YOU'VE BEEN TRYING FOR YEARS, FUCKING YEARS, TO LEAVE ME!”

“W-why?” He’d finally calmed down, and started almost crying himself, the sight made you feel an uncomfortable mix of smug and sorry.

No.

He's a murderer.

“I couldn’t live with the harassment anymore.” You started calmly, hoping you wouldn’t flare up his anger.

“Didn’t you want me to be happy?” You asked.

“But I need you to be happy.” He responded weakly.

You remained silent and decided to take a closer look at the room you were stuck in.

You were currently laying on a queen sized bed, with three layers of blankets and plain blue sheets.

The walls of the room were painted the same blue as the sheets, though it was hard to tell at first due to photos of you and posters covering most of the area.

"The room must be Blake's," You thought. "Which means..." Your stomach turned at the thought.

You'd have to sleep with this psycho.

And then what would happen?

He would push himself onto you, and you'd either have to accept it, or... You didn't want to think about what he'd do to you.

His threats when you didn't acknowledge him, the fact that he broke into your home and kidnapped you, and...

What he did to your boyfriend.

And how he enjoyed the aftermath of fear and bullying towards you. He stood by as people made your life a living hell. Because they thought you were a criminal, a murderer that was about to get what they deserved.

Maybe they were right. You did kill him. Who knows how many other deaths you were responsible for?

No.

He killed him. Blake did.

And all of this, that's what'll clear your name once you escape wherever this psycho is keeping you.

"W-where are we?" Your voice came out softer and meeker than you'd like, but maybe that would help. Get him to believe you were just scared and worried, though you really were.

The male sat in front of you, shaking a small amount.

"Home."

Uh, so this is kinda old, but then I added onto it and rewrote it to be x reader. I was mega hyped for this blog when I started writing this, even making a Pinterest board for this character, but I never actually described his appearance, and personality wise he is a pissbaby.

Bruh, my first draft on this account made realise I changed his name from Joey to Blake.

Edit: I fucking forgot to change his name once and used third person phrasing instead of second person in one part. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

#yandere x reader #yandere #x reader #dark #kidnapping #2nd person #Blake x reader #Home #Blake #OC #writing

127 notes · View notes

pugzman3 · 3 years

Note

My level of thinking may differ in some respects. I watched every minute of the Chauvin trial. He was kneeling on George Floyds neck. In videos it was apparent that that was happening. On the subject of 1st amendment rights in the private sector you are wrong. The Framer's of the Constitution would not have imagined our current situation but, it does say the there is a difference between Private and Government as far as 1st amendment rights. An employer or a private platform does not have to abide by the 1st amendment. The Government sector however does. A little research tells one this and in my case, a friend who is a lawyer. " The First Amendment does not limit private employers. The Bill of Rights and the First Amendment limit only Government Actors. This means that private employers can restrict speech in the workplace without running afoul of the First Amendment" The same goes for Private platforms such as Twitter and Facebook. One example of Trump's lies is that he told the public that this virus wasn't as bad as it was early on. The taped interview for Woodward's book has him stating otherwise. Taped interview!

So I am guessing that you are the same person that keeps sending the anonymous ASKs because you are actually speaking and not being childish like the other attention seekers, and again, I greatly appreciate the maturity. So here is the deal, if you want to have a conversation, let's go. I would say DM me here...but tumblr has disabled my ability to send and read DM's, which by your logic they have the "right" right to do. Freedom of speech for some, not so much the others. So, my IG is pugzmantothethird, I can chat there, unless you are going to come with some third grade media blinded argument. If that is the case I have some suggestions for you, so stay tuned.

since you want to bring up chauvin again and the trial you watched, then I guess you saw the police chief admit that the knee was on the neck the whole time. I guess you saw the witness plead the fifth because he knew his answers would be danming for the prosecution. Or maybe hulu blocked that info, I don't know. Regardless here is the deal. if you think that was a "case" of "police brutality", you are wasting my (and your) time. Floyd was going to die that day. That was the plan. It was a FF organized and executed to trigger anger and division among the masses, bring in more socialistic controls, discredit cops and encourage the defunding of police across the country, and millions fell for it. Both Pelosi and his GF called him a sacrifice. Don't believe in FF's or that the gov is ran by luciferians that would do something like that? check this out, from April 19th to the beginning of may is a big season of worship in their calander that calls for sacrifices. What did we see almost every day during those days? and what have we NOT seen since the beginning of May?

the trump lie, man I thought you might come with something better than that but ok. on the surface, again, I will assume you have never served or worked in a manner where you had to keep a secret or play down something to keep people calm, I have. you saw what people did with toilet paper right? on the surface again, you fell for the media doing any and everything they can to try and discredit him, and cover the fact that time after time they get proven as failures as journalists. Go learn about Operation Mockingbird and know that yes, it is still happening. The media is slowly being exposed as propagandists for the deep state, and they know it.

The 1st A, I think we were somewhat saying the same thing, except for private businesses. I said that we are protected under it and officials are to protect those rights. yes, like you said, it protects us from the gov, which to me I was implying that from "everyone" i meant especially from the gov. But again, you are looking at the surface argument that is being presented by the media, and you showed that when you said trump was "whining" about being censored, and you try to say "Founding fathers couldn't have foreseen that". quick smackdown on that, pretty sure the majority of business back in 1776 were privately owned business so yeah they had something to site in on. But that is third grade shit. The bigger picture is that the traps have been set for big tech and they are in the teeth now. You think it was just about "censorship" when their plan was much bigger. Go study Joseph Goebbels and his tactics as Minister of Propaganda under Hitler. Open your eyes and you will see the exact same game being played right now. This is what they do not want you to see, and this is why the media is trying to run distraction. They want you small minded and short sighted because they want you to believe they are on "your side" right now. But it will not stop there and in the end, no one will be safe.

As for the suggestions, if you want to talk, I am up for it. But come out from behind the anonymous because I sure as hell am not going to report you or whatever you are afraid of. Worst case scenario, we disagree and go about our business. Best case scenario, you get freed from the matrix. But before you come with that surface bs argument, maybe just sit back quiet for a bit, open your eyes, forget EVERYTHING you thought was real, drop your biases, and watch. Some one brought you to this Great awakening fOr a reason my frienD.

19 notes · View notes

bilbao-song · 3 years

Note

heres an ask because i too am desperate to engage with people. i know u dont care about roxy music but you did say you would accept something as incoherent as a keysmash so here is an equivalent: admittedly i find the dynamics between ANY band and their fans very interesting, but roxy music in particular. there is a peculiar divide between those who are staunch bryan ferry fans (these people typically dont give half of a shit about anyone else in the band), those who are fans of the group as a whole and dont particularly care about individual members at all, and those who are most interested in phil manzanera and andy mackay and sometimes the other guys, who generally quite dislike bryan (i being the latter)- and often there is resentment between the groups. i think its so interesting that a group of people can be presented with the same exact material, love it and enjoy it for years, and yet latch onto different parts of it and make it such a part of their identity that should you confuse one with the other they become insulted, or if nothing else will tell you "no no, i like roxy music but i REALLY like bryan, i think hes the best", or "no no, i love roxy music and im a fan of andy and phil in particular but i dont care for byran much at all, dont get it twisted", etc. are there bands you're more familiar with who have this sort of divide amongst the fanbase? do tell me about them, if you like :>

first of all i absolutely love that u sent this ksdhgkshg this is like. exactly the kind of thing i wanted

sorry for taking 39485949 years to post this lmao. i wrote like FIVE entire paragraphs and then had to edit it but it was getting super late and anyway it’s still absurdly long (as in, i can say whatever i want in the below text bc no one is going to want to read it) and definitely devolved into a huge general rant about the annoying and creepy behaviors of some people within band fanbases (specifically ELO-related bc of course) as well as vagueing about my own controversial opinions but......nonetheless.

anyway!!! i find this kind of thing really interesting too!! and i know EXACTLY what you’re talking about. there are just sooo many facets to this, and i guess it’s different for every band. on the one hand i do think it’s kind of an interesting phenomenon bc if you think about it, they’re basically enjoying the same thing but taking wildly different/opposing stances on it. as a whole i would find it a lot more interesting/amusing and less frustrating if people could like...manage these kinds of differences without turning it into some kind of overly vitriolic/super hostile opposition that you would think is about politics or something and not a band we r supposed to be listening to for entertainment purposes. i mean, i 100% get that things don’t have to be Extremely Important to be worth discussing, but it just seems wild the way some people get SO intensely angry about these things, sometimes to the point of being kind of inappropriate. i have a lot of issues with the way some people within band fanbases tend to behave lol

.......anyway the Full Rant is below here (idk why i wrote this bc it’s long enough to be turned in for a grade and it’s only partially relevant. read at ur own risk):

so!! thankfully with most bands i enjoy i just kind of watch the fanbase from the sidelines and don't get too involved in or even aware of all the drama. like...i know about the band and enjoy the music but just manage to not get involved in whatever the community happens to be collectively freaking out about at any given moment. i feel like the kind of divide you mentioned is actually pretty common within band fanbases (i think there are things like this with like...styx and three dog night? among others? but i don't know all the details 👀) but like, FORTUNATELY with most of them i just would not know. that's very nice because i unfortunately do not always have that kind of luxury with the ELO fanbase...idk i have a lot of very strong ELO-related opinions that i usually don't like to discuss in great detail bc i get disproportionately frustrated but yeah basically what you described does kind of happen among ELO fans, although thankfully i'd say it's to a somewhat lesser extent? people are commonly at each other's throats about a variety of topics including (but not limited to) who they support or don't support, but there are still plenty of people who (thankfully) are not so aggressive lmao. there is sort of a divide within the fanbase but i feel like it's probably not so 50/50 as what you're talking about...maybe more like 85/15

THAT SAID, i have frequently commented on the fact that the ELO fanbase is largely a dumpster fire and there is a whole entire sector of the fanbase that is comprised of people who i absolutely cannot stand, and most of them do fight a lot lmao. this is only partially related to the subject at hand, but a good portion of the bickering is relevant to The Divide. like, i'm 100% okay with having a different opinion than someone else as long as they aren't acting like a complete freak about it, but idk, aside from the fact that most of these people are like?? needlessly aggressive?? there are certain opinions held by certain members of the Greater ELO Community that just give me that vibe of like...hmmmm this is a person i probably would not want to associate with at all, even in matters completely unrelated to this. Unsavory Person Vibes. i mean like, “opinions” that just boil down to "i am very very entitled and also incapable of seeing anyone else's perspective on literally anything ever BUT that isn't going to stop me from openly whining about this absolutely whenever possible." like!! it's one thing to have some kind of legitimate, reasonable criticism of an individual or band but some, if not most, of the things i've seen people losing their minds over within this fanbase have been so hilariously trivial that i just CANNOT understand how these people actually managed to get to be (presumably) functional adults who are probably like 50+ years old. i mean like, full-blown tantrums and calling someone all sorts of nasty things over something that shouldn't even be an issue because without exaggerating i cannot fathom how anyone could even be majorly upset about it in the first place. to give an example: someone once had a whole entire little strongly-worded, excessively presumptuous freakout because a guitar was no longer on loan to the rock and roll hall of fame. like...it was there for quite awhile and two out of four inductees loaned absolutely nothing but you're whining because one who DID loan something eventually took it back? do we not know what the word "loan" means? anyway the best part is that basically every time something like this happens, if someone tries to point out that the person is overreacting or perhaps just needs to look at a situation another way, they will then go off on that person bc god forbid we try to be level-headed about things. everything has to be Very Horrible All The Time or we’re doing something wrong or being stupid or something. idk i'm convinced that some people just want to be angry

also just...some of these people do some really shady things that i personally feel are morally questionable but there's nothing i can do about it so i try to just kind of avoid dwelling on it lmfao. like, it's not okay to violate people's privacy just because they're famous and you're overly entitled/nosy/desperate for clout/blatantly trying to profit off of them? i know in the Sane World that's a completely non-controversial idea but band fanbases apparently often aren't based on sanity skhglkshgks idk i could probably write a small novel on this and make a specific list of all the things they do that are just like...bafflingly tone deaf and kind of appalling but i digress. idk the worst part to me is the way they'll be like, saying/doing something that's just awful or like, maybe even totally factually wrong while acting like they're in the right. absolutely wild

to at least somewhat bring this back to what we were ATTEMPTING to talk about!!! personally i've reached a point where i pretty much no longer care about like 90% of anyone who has ever been in ELO (jeffrey/richard/roy/mike de albuquerque supremacy) but i'm not like, actively a Hater of the others lmao. i appreciate that they were there and enjoy the nostalgia(? i wasn’t alive) of it and i’m glad they’re out there existing but i just...don’t really care about anything they do at this point?? a good portion of it is a result of me taking issue with certain things some of them have done, which has impacted the way i feel about them, but MOST of it is really not that deep and it’s just that some of them just don't particularly interest me on that kind of level/i don't feel the need to get that invested in like 927509257 different people (fun fact: during the 1970s every third person in existence on earth was, at least briefly, a member of ELO). there's really only one ELO-adjacent person who i actually very strongly dislike and a) luckily i feel like they barely even count as a member b) the reasoning is kind of its own Thing and has very very very little to do with anything related to the band so it's kind of another subject entirely. anyway that’s as close as i’ll ever get to actually getting involved with any of the Drama sgsdgsdgfhdh. my primary beef is with the fanbase anyway because, as previously mentioned, there are too many insane people. i guess what i’m getting at here is that yeah there’s a divide and it does affect me BUT i also don’t really get why people allow this to make them act in a way that goes beyond just having a difference in opinion and is so overly hostile towards each other as well as the people they’re discussing. like...if anyone involved is a serial killer or something even remotely similar then yeah, being outraged on an extreme level and absolutely hating them even as an outsider makes sense. otherwise? calm down!!!!!

anyway. to wrap up this mostly incoherent rant that i hope no one read: i have always suspected that band fandoms kind of attract certain kinds of very distressingly weird people and i just think it's funny how there's always like, a little cluster of people within the fanbase who basically seem like they actually hate the band (those are almost always the Weird Ones bc i can’t tell you how many times i’ve witnessed a person who is like, into a band to a CREEPY extent and then one day they just flip and become a hater). at that point i'm just like, okay? so why are you still here lmfao. i guess that's the Main Idea of all of this lol. i just don't get why these people stick around when 98% of all they ever do is complain and act overly judgy? i just feel like if my so-called favorite band was making me that miserable i would try to find another band to like instead of becoming a menace to society. that’s just me tho

to bring all of this together i guess i just assume that some kind of phenomenon like this occurs within basically every band fanbase. idk it just seems pretty universal for some reason. certain kinds of people just love drama i guess and will turn any difference of opinion into some kind of shitshow

tl;dr: yes

#every time i talk about this sort of thing i think about how my mom joined some of the elo facebook groups #and after a few weeks she was like omg!!! you were right!!! they're crazy!!! they're FIGHTING with each other!!!#sadly the facebook ppl are actually pretty tame compared to what can be found lurking in other corners of the internet #anyway this mostly just turned into me vagueing about my beef with the elo fanbase again but it's hard not to go there sdhglkhsdgl #also i feel like with a lot of things that cause Controversy within band fandoms it's just like #people getting so angry over things that don't affect them and that the actual people involved aren't even that concerned about anymore #AND ppl assuming they have the whole story on a particular issue when oftentimes it's likely that they don't #whether it's bc the information just isn't out there or because certain sources are obviously going to slant things in their favor #which is not inherently a problem bc of course people have different perspectives but you just can't forget that that's a thing #idk i have.....so many very strong opinions but the idea of being specific about it in a conversation gives me hives #metaphorical hives #anyway thank you for sending this bc i am literally always waiting to rant about weird ppl within band fandoms #eddie-riff

7 notes · View notes

psychedellic-phase · 4 years

Text

Fifteen (pt 3)

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

tw: none! just more fluffiness

word count: 2444

(part 1) (part 2)

masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I hope that’s true.

xo,

YN”

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

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

Part 4!

tags: @l0ve-0f-my-life

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

#spencer reid #spencer x you #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fic #cm #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #mgg #mgg fanfiction #matthew gray gubler #reid #reid x you #reid fic #derek morgan #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #penelope garcia

177 notes · View notes

twstarchives · 4 years

Text

Only The Roses Should Be Red

Card: Dorm Uniform - SSR Characters: Riddle, Cater, Trey, Deuce

Chapter 1

—HEARTSLABYUL DORM - LOUNGE—

Cater: Ugh… I just can’t get this memorized!

Trey: Oi oi, Cater. Where did your usual smarts go?

Cater: That’s easy for you to say, Trey-kun.

People have things they can do and things they can’t…

Trey: Failing next week’s written exam on practical magic could send your final grade spiraling, huh…?

Cater: Right! I seriously have to drill this spell into my head somehow…

Trey: Don’t say that while you’re opening Magicam on your phone.

Cater: I just don’t have any motivation…

But I’m able to remember things that get uploaded to Magicam…

Like the long menu names from trendy cafés, or the dates that cute clothes go on sale…

Riddle: Why are the two of you frowning?

Trey: Oh, Riddle. Right now I’m helping Cater study for his magic test. He’s close to failing.

Riddle: …He’s close to what?

Cater: Hold on a sec, Trey-kun! You didn’t have to tell him that!

Trey: Practical magic is a required course, so if you fail it here, I just don’t think you’ll be able to pass this year.

Riddle: Cater. Are your grades so poor that you might not even pass this year?

The only thing that should be red in this dormitory are the roses! It’ll be off with your head for all the red marks you’ve gotten!

Cater: N-No, no! This is the only thing I’m really bad at! I’ve never gotten red marks in any of my other classes!

Riddle: Failing something in even one of your classes should give you a sense of impending doom.

So? What are you struggling with?

Cater: “Auto-Cleaning Using Enchanted Supplies”…

Riddle: Auto-cleaning… So magic that makes brushes and rags clean by themselves.

I’m still a second-year, so I haven’t learned that lesson yet. But if it’s just the spell you need, I’ve read a book on it.

Cater: I’m having trouble with this “auto” part. The composition of this spell is almost like programming a machine.

It won’t work if I don’t follow the formula exactly, but… I just can’t memorize it…

Trey: That brings up a good point. You should avoid using any breakable objects with this magic, and be careful on the carpet…

Since you’ll have to cast that magic on the cleaning supplies beforehand.

Riddle: Cater’s Unique Magic allows him to clone himself, right?

If you’ve mastered magic that complex, how are you having trouble with this?

Cater: Well… I’m great at thinking of lots of things all at once, but I’m not that good at envisioning outcomes, or planning things out…

Riddle: So what you’re saying is… You’re smart, but you don’t put in any effort. I see.

Very well. Then I will teach you how to study.

Cater: What, seriously?!

Trey: But this is third-year level work. Is this really alright?

Riddle: Who do you think you’re speaking to? I’m the dorm leader of Heartslabyul.

Having the ability to fix all students’ problems regardless of grade level was one of the first qualifications of becoming dorm leader.

Ever since I took that role, no one has repeated a year or dropped out.

And as long as I’m in this position, there will be absolutely no failures in my dorm!

Just leave everything to me.

I will make it so that Cater gets a high score, guaranteed.

—LIBRARY—

Deuce: Um, the shelf that had alchemy grimoires was this one, right…?

Riddle: First we should use floating magic as a base… No, it’d be better to implement the transparency magic first.

A book further detailing the spell would be——Ah!

(Crash!)

Deuce: Ah!

Riddle: Ouch… I apologize, I was looking the other way.

Deuce: Dorm Leader Rosehearts! I’m so sorry!

Riddle: Oh, look who’s here—Deuce.

Deuce: I’ll help you pick up the books… Wait, you’re planning on reading all of these?

Riddle: Yes. Is there a problem?

Deuce: You have at least twenty grimoires here, and they’re all big and seem complicated…

Riddle: These are the materials I need so I can compile a test prep notebook for Cater.

Since solving student problems is the dorm leader’s duty.

Deuce: Th-That’s our dorm leader for you…! You have my respect.

The only thing I can help you with is carrying things for you… but, I will at least bring them to your desk.

Riddle: Thank you. You’re a big help.

Good. If I just summarize all of these grimoires, he should do perfect on his test.

I’m looking forward to handing him the finished product.

Chapter 2

—HEARTSLABYUL DORM - HALLWAY—

Riddle: Don’t take another step, Cater!

Why is it so hard for you to memorize just 300 pages of text?!

OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!!

Cater: It takes longer than one or two days to memorize 300 pages!

Plus, everything’s written so tiny and squished together, and it’s on A4-sized paper!

Stop yelling so angrily with your face that red!

Trey: Now, now, Riddle. Let’s calm down a little.

Riddle: Hah… Y-You’re right. Sorry for that.

...Ahem. Alright, Cater?

This test prep notebook I compiled for you is designed to counter any questions you might have.

It has the basics, advanced concepts, and trick questions… If you memorize just these 300 pages, you’ll be able to understand all of that.

So stop thinking about how hard it is and just memorize this text!

Cater: I know you worked really hard to make this, and I want to memorize everything too.

But every time I open the text, whenever I get to page 3 I just get tired all of a sudden…

Riddle: Page 3, you said?

So you’ve only read up to the table of contents?!

You’re just asking to have your head roll!!

Trey: R-Riddle. I understand how you feel, but come on now…

Riddle: Nngh…!!

Trey: And Cater. If this is putting you to sleep, then start reading out loud. Put some effort into getting this memorized.

Our busy dorm leader went through the trouble of making this just for you, after all.

Cater: That’s true. Yeah. Sorry…

Alright. I have one week till my test, so from now on I’ll seriously try to study!

Riddle: Hmph. If you had me do this much for you and still end up failing…

It really will be off with your head. Keep that in mind!

Cater: I-I’ll do my best.

I’ll make a post of my plans on Magicam, and then take a break from it for a little bit.

First let’s take a picture of the test prep notebook Riddle-kun made… Here.

(Snap!)

Cater: #TestStudyTime #300PagesofText #HandmadebyRiddlekun #TakingItSeriousNow #NoDozingOff

Posted~! Alright, I’ll go back to my room and start studying. Thank you, you two.

(Cater leaves)

Riddle: Honestly. That drives me crazy about Cater.

He’s only ever looking at Magicam like that and forgets about studying.

Trey: I’m sure you can understand the feeling of trying to get out of doing something you don’t want to do.

Riddle: That doesn’t mean it’s okay for students not to study.

Trey: That’s true…

…Do you have any foods you don’t like, Riddle?

Riddle: Hah? That’s so random.

But if I had to answer… I guess I wouldn’t want to eat anything that’s bad for you, or anything with too much seasoning.

Trey: What if you had to eat every last bite of something with heavy seasoning, no matter what…

How would you eat it?

Riddle: Hmm. I’d figure out a way to make it just a little easier to eat.

Like adding hot water to dilute the flavor, or eating it in portions with sides like bread or rice.

Or also maybe eat it with something I like…

…………..AH!

——I see. That’s what’s going on!

In that case, Cater would definitely….!

Trey: What happened, Riddle?

Riddle: Trey, there’s something I want you to show me.

Chapter 3

—HEARTSLABYUL DORM - ROSE MAZE—

Cater: *Yawns*… I’m tired…

I seriously just can’t go on without Magicam… Alright, forget I made that rule. Morning Magicam check~!

Riddle: You have a big mouth, Cater, just like the walrus who stuffed his face with oysters.

Cater: Ah, Riddle-kun! M-Morning~ You look totes cute like always today!

Oh, th-this is not what you think! I wasn’t looking at Magicam or anything…

Riddle: Ah, speaking of Magicam…

I made an account yesterday too.

Cater: Oh….. HUH?!

You started a Magicam?!

Riddle: What’s with that reaction?

Should I not have a Magicam?

Cater: No, it’s not that! It’s just, you’ve always said you “weren’t interested” and never made an account, so that surprised me.

Riddle: Hm. I just happened to feel like making one.

And I thought I’d come ask for your ID.

Cater: For sure, let’s add each other! I’m super excited to see the pics you upload~☆

Riddle: Hehe. Be sure to check everyday so you don’t miss anything.

—CLASSROOM—

Ding~♪

Cater: Oh, Riddle-kun posted on Magicam! Let’s see~

I wonder what kind of picture he posted~♪

...Huh? What’s this?

Is this… a picture of a broom?

Riddle: #FirstOfAll #TouchAllFourCornersOfYourRoomWithTheBroom #WhileCastingTheSpell #FloatingMagic #SageAndSalt

Cater: Haha, he put some weird tags. It’s like he’s not familiar with it yet; it’s cute~!

—HEARTSLABYUL DORM - CATER’S ROOM—

Ding~♪

Cater: Riddle-kun uploaded something to Magicam again. This time… a towel? Err, no, this is…

A rag!

Why would he upload a picture of a rag?

I wish he’d post more attractive pics, like selfies or aesthetic lunches.

Riddle: #AfterTheBroom #PutMagicStoneInWaterBucket #5DropsOfPurificationPotion #KeepWaterTempBelow20Degrees #ExtremelyImportant!

Cater: Wait? Don’t tell me, these tags…

—HEARTSLABYUL DORM - RIDDLE’S ROOM—

Riddle: Next is the spell to brush the carpet.

I’ll take a picture of the scrub brush… umm, what tags should I put?

“#WaterMagic #FireplaceAshes #SilverApple” and then… also…

This should be good. …There, it’s posted.

Oh. Cater immediately liked it.

It looks like his account is showing progress of his studying today as well.

I’ll leave a like. …Good.

—HEARTSLABYUL DORM - LOUNGE—

A few days later

Cater: Riddle-kun!! Trey-kun!!

Riddle: Cater. How were the results on your magic test?

Cater: Tada, take a look! I got an 85 on the written portion, and an A on the practical portion!

Riddle: That’s great!! …….*coughs*.

Trey: Good for you, Cater.

Cater: Now I won’t have to repeat a year! Thank you, Riddle-kun, I mean it!

Riddle: Hmph. I gave you thorough instruction. This was the obvious result.

Trey: I was surprised when Riddle suddenly asked me to show him how to make a Magicam account…

I never would’ve imagined he’d use pictures and tags to teach Cater spells.

Cater: Well, that seriously was a genius idea!

The spell hashtags on Riddle-kun’s account were super, super, super cool!

When I was frantically trying to study from that notebook, it put me straight to sleep, but these I memorized no problem!

Next time, I’ll take you to a Magicammable pancake café as thanks ♡

Riddle: God, you really are a sweet talker… But there won’t be a next time.

Because if you ever get close to failing a required course again, it really will be off with your head!

Cater: I know, I know ♪ I’ll work hard from now on!

Riddle: Good answer. Now, to get started…

Bam!

Cater: Ggah, what’s with all these books?

Riddle: This is just the beginning. Go through all of these to get ready for your next test!

Cater: What?! Are you serious?

Riddle: Didn’t I tell you? As long as I am dorm leader…

There will be absolutely no failures in Heartslabyul!

#riddle rosehearts #personal story #dorm uniform

158 notes · View notes

inthedarkofficial · 3 years

Text

Stats at 25

I did this at 18 and at 21 because they felt like milestones, and... well, so does 25, I guess. It's going under this time though, because you know what that is? Growth.

Novels Written: In the Dark (no, really, it's done this time!), Dragons, In the Flames (which was meant to be In the Know), and I'm about 31,000 words into the real In the Know

Poems written: 40+

Agent Rejections: 21 this year alone (and I at about 30 total? Fuck)

Agent Requests: On their way, of course

Works planned: 15 novels, 4 short story collections, 1 encyclopaedia. 1 poetry collection, 1 short play, 1 nonfiction essay.

Publishing credits: 1 that we talk about (FourxFour baby!)

Characters: where do they keep coming from?

Lives lived: Why did I phrase this in the past tense? It's still happening

Life path: One step at a time, but an author, always

Books Read: Not as many as I'd like

Books to Read: A lot more than I'd like

Concerts seen: 27

Grades in piano: 3 (why do I keep including this?)

Memories: Treasured and painful and apparently something I have to fight for

Time: Lost all meaning this last year

Nickname: Still going by Padfoot, call me Roro and I will cut you

Clothes: So! Many! Clothes! but they make me feel better than ever

Style: It changes every day because I change every day

Friendships: How did I make new, incredible friends during a lockdown? I don't know, but gods bless D&D

Parents: We survived together in one house locked down for over a year, I'm so grateful for them

Family: I miss you Kali. I miss you nan. I want to hug you, Maddison. I want to give all of you a hug, honestly.

Enemies: I'm still coming for you, Derek

Sexuality: I keep looking closer and closer to see what the ins and outs are, but I'm bi and queer and that's enough

Gender: I fucking came out as genderqueer and I've started playing with pronouns and gender presentation and honestly? Never felt better

Hair colours: Literally could not tell you anymore. How many? Who knows. I want another.

Education: A in 11+, 2 A* and 8 A GCSEs, 1 A* and 2 A A Levels, 2.1 English Literature Degree, and I will finish this fucking proofreading course! Also, that masters degree is really calling me like a siren...

Tattoos: 2, and as soon as Covid allows it, I'll be getting more

Continents : 3

Countries: 10

Cities: I clearly counted this wrong and now? no clue

Homes: About to be 9!

Places to visit: I just want to go and see (and meet!) my friends, honestly

Vaginismus: Diagnosed! Fucking diagnosed!

Dilators: size 2!

Relationship status: Not going to be fucking decided by what some fucking Western doctor thinks I should be using my vagina for holy gods.

Standards: I want to be loved right down to my scalp. I enjoy my own company too much to settle for less.

Tears shed: My eyes hurt

Laughter: My ribs hurt

Jobs: 5, +writer, always. Fingers crossed for some sweet, sweet income soon though.

Readings: More! Let me do more! Covid, you bitch!

D&D campaigns: 1 abandoned, 1 shelved, 2 ongoing, 1 beginning soon

D&D Podcasts: R.I.P. Edge of Night

D&D characters: Where are all you stupid bisexuals coming from? (Not you, Caleb, we're thrilled to have you here)

Clean: Been a daily struggle this year. Not quite succeeding sometimes. But never fully relapsed. I can be proud of that.

Mental health: Ups and downs, but I'm taking back control

Physical health: Ready to fight doctors, but I'm getting there

Height: 5′2″, do I really need to keep recording this?

Shoes size: 3 (uk), I totally need to keep recording this

Weight: Most days I like my body, and that's a big improvement

Puns: cannot count how many times I got kicked out of skype calls this year

Beliefs: Maybe it's better to have ideas, but I've found names to give power to, powers to give love to, I have principles I live by, the faeries in the garden still get offerings, hawthorn trees carpet the garden in flowers, and I am enough. The worls is on fire, and full of people doing harm for no reason, so it's hard to believe that the world is good, but my life, at its core, is a good life. And I'm so grateful, even when things are hard.

Happy memories: even in the darkest and hardest of times, I have had moments of pride, and moments I felt loved. I know what unconditional love is. What could be better

Sad memories: Reclaimed, remembered, and not going to fucking control me.

How the things I planned to do at 21 panned out: actually learned what it takes to find an agent and though it took longer than I planned, I am now doing that process. Gave up krav maga, no regrets. Did finish my third novel (at least, first draft), then learned it was the wrong novel. But I did write a whole other novel. Graduated UEA with a 2.1. Successfully left Norwich and never have to fucking return! Have done freelance editing work and got a job at Debenhams, though Covid fucked those a bit. Wrote that fucking dissertation and it's fabulous. Did see Hamilton. Did put more hats on Cicero before he broke (but he's now getting repaired!) Decided a TEFL was an insane idea, I hate teaching. Did, indeed, continue to live and did a whole lot else.

Goals at 25: Keep submitting to agents, finish In the Know and work on the faery books, continue my physical and mental health journey, keep working with the dilators, move into my own house (!), find a steady source of income, start getting my poetry and other writing out there, finish my vaginismus article, visit my friends, get a new tattoo, keep volunteering at Pride, play enough D&D to justify all these fucking dice sets, get Cicero back, keep building the life I want.

Life at 25 years: when I wrote my "Stats at 21" post, I didn't know how much denial I was in. I'd totally repressed the memory of being sexually assaulted and I didn't even know about a condition that I've just learned has likely been impacting me in multiple ways all my life. I hadn't even met a person who would become one of my best friends, and then my boyfriend, and then my ex, and then totally out of my life by the time I write this. I barely knew the guy who is now one of the most important people in the world to me. I was only beginning to question my gender. I'd not questioned my sexuality in years. I've been through counselling, learned to stand up for myself, worked on so many projects I couldn't even imagine being a part of back then, been on a huge vaginismus journey that's still on going, started playing D&D, went to the graduation ceremony I never planned to attend, and I'm about to have my own house, just to point to a select few things. There's been a global pandemic (still ongoing), movements and trials that helped me find my truth and broke my heart, Brexit fucking happened, I lost my best, dearest and oldest friend (I love you Kali) and my nan... I could not have imagined what 25 would look like on the night I turned 21, just like at 18, 21 was impossible to picture.

So I guess... hi future Rowan. Happy 27th birthday (of course it's going to be 27). What does your world look like now? Did we fall in love? Did we make good dilator progress? How's the house? Did we decide on kids? I cannot begin to wonder what your world looks like, but I swear, I'm working on making it good.

"Soft and slow/Watch the minutes go/Count outloud/ So we know you don't keep them for yourself." - Halsey

#personal #rowan rants #bisexual cancerians who talk to trees day #no one should feel any inclination to read this #I am simply allowed my little public journalilng rituals #as a treat #july 3rd

2 notes · View notes

transboygenius · 4 years

Text

Season 4 promo

After overcoming some abuse, anxiety, and depression issues, I FINALLY have it finished.

Three months ago, a huge ceremony took place for the graduation of Lindbergh's fifth grade students. All children were dressed in caps and gowns, receiving their diploma one by one. Cindy earned an academic award along with her diploma. Fortunately, for Jimmy, he earned quite some more, which made him fall over with all that weight. Cindy looked over to him in envy, while Nick helped him pick up some of those awards. Miss Fowl was crying tears of freedom, for she was finally free from Sheen's shenanigans. While the ceremony was still going on, Jimmy gave an inspirational speech about what he learned. Not just about geometry, history, or science, but socialization, and how it changed him. He even gave a sincere shoutout to Nick.

Cindy watched in all bitterness. She was upset. Was it because Jimmy managed to outdo her achievements? Yes. Was it because she still misses him in her life? Also yes. She still loves him, but she is also jealous of him. Why can't she just be one of those? Despite that her and Jimmy vowed to each other that they would be friends instead, she could never move on from him. Ever since him and Nick escaped fron the medieval century, he has redeemed himself from his arrogant and egotistic ways, putting friendship before science. Cindy doesn't get it. She has tried for months to bring him into common sense, even tried beating it out of him, and he does it for some kid he used to have minimal interactions with.

Not only that, but they also became really close friends after that time warp trip. Something about their relationship really made Cindy feel envious. They're always happy with each other, as well as supportive. Even when they find something either of them disagree on, they still search for a way to cooperate. Also, the way Jimmy's always bedazzled by Nick brings her with a lot of questions. Why doesn't he ever look at me like that? Compared to his friendship with Carl and Sheen, he definitely had some "weird" subtext going on with Nick. Cindy lost two goals in this year. While in her gloomy state, her mother began to comfort her. Or at least that's what she thought.

"Oh, don't let the agony of defeat weigh you down, Cynthia! This is only the beginning! That big headed whippy dip may have won the battle, but I guarantee you will win the war! We'll just have to try HARDER this time! I'll help you, and make sure you stay on track!" "Gee. Thanks, Mom. I really appreciate that." "Anything to bring the Vortex image up!"

...........................

It was another fun summer vacation for children, especially for Jimmy and his gang, along with Nick. Sometimes they would go off into far adventures. Sometimes Jimmy would give a new experiment to present. Sometimes they would do normal summer activities such as going to the beach, or Retroland. Or sometimes they would lie around at home all day like couch potatoes. Nick has never had such a productive summer before! He was so happy, he even did his chores whenever he was told to. Well, occasionally. While everyone was making the most of their vacation, Cindy would continue researching and studying until her brain melts.

Most of Nick's summer days were spent with Jimmy, because of course. He spent some time with Libby, since they surprisingly had a lot in common. He at least put his best to hang out with Carl. Even though Nick doesn't consider Sheen much as a friend, Sheen can't help but get a little clingy over a new amigop. Just for Jimmy, he tolerated all of his actions, even when he starts to infodump about how much he knows about Ultralord. When Nick feels he isn't doing a good job being pal-friendly to Jimmy's two comrades, he cooks them up lunch, takes special recipe requests, and gave free cooking lessons. He'd cook for Libby too, only to test out new vegetarian recipes. The only member of the squad Nick interacted with the least would be Cindy.

After three months of summer, it eventually went down to a bummer. When the first back-to-school commercial airs, every child is met with horror. Speaking of which, on the third of August, it was time to face a new beginning. Goodbye Elementary School, and hello to Middle School. Nick was gazing into the mirror, grooming his curtain cut with care. Although he's not popular anymore, keeping his own hair perfect has become a habbit to him. He also decided to try a new casual, comfortable wardrobe: white long sleeved shirt, blue t-shirt over it, teared loose jeans, and purple converse. The ring around his neck never left him. After he finished admiring his own reflection, he took his backpack and ran towards the door.

"Nick, would you like me to drive you there?" Shouted his mom from another room. "It's cool, Mom! I'll just take my scooter!" Replied Nick. "Well, you better not be late on your first day! Love you, honey!" “Love you too, Mom."

.....................

So on the scooter ride to school, he met with a few friends on the way. Libby and Cindy took the bus, but he only waved to Libby. Sheen was passing by in his dad's car, constantly trying to get Nick's attention while Nick did his best to ignore him. Then came Bolbi on a unicyc- Wait a minute, he's not a friend. Lastly, up in the sky, there was Jimmy in his hovercar, greeting Nick from above. Then there was Carl in the backseat, catching the breeze in his face, then a splattered bug. All of the squad met at the front entrance of Gelaway's Middle School. Even though summer was over, some were eagar to move to a new school level where they'll no longer be regarded as little kids.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhh... Can't believe we're in middle school now! The place where practices to being a teenager begins! Pretty soon we'll be driving in our parents' cars, and attending R-rated movies!" Cooed Libby. "I can't wait to wear body jewelry!" Said Carl. "Sooooooooo, looks like this is a new stage in our growing life. It feels like only yesterday we were doing show 'n tell, and macaroni art. Now there's... ...here. Wow." Spoke Nick.

Jimmy gave his tall buddy a light nudge on the shoulder, then grinned at him.

"Shall we... ...go inside now?" Asked Jimmy. “YES, LET'S GO INSIDE NOW! I've been surrounded by babies for too long! PEAK OF ADULTHOOD, HERE I COME!" Shouted Sheen, then dashed on ahead.

The rest of the gang followed behind. When they made it inside, it felt like opening a door to a whole new world. The inside was full of older and maturer kids, all in a different multicultural range. Most of them were just fooling around on their phones. Libby had her eyes on a couple of teens playing music and then dancing to it. Sheen had his eyes on a couple of dudes having a casual conversation about science fiction. Carl had his eyes on... ...a Llama Lovers club? Nick had his eyes on something that made him wanna act fast. He quickly hid behind a really tall, blocky kid while the gang continued to chat amongst themselves.

A trio walked down the hall, in an intimating fashion. The lead of the trio was a blonde boy who wore fingerless gloves, a snapback, baggy pants, sneakers, and a t-shirt that had a ravenous spike collared bulldog on it. Not to mention he had a (fake) tattoo on his left arm that read "Beast." He appeared to look the most intimating, and seemed to be at Nick's height. The kid on his left was a lanky boy, who wore a red and yellow tank top, with matching shorts, plain white sneakers, and his hair was braided. He was the tallest, and looked like a friendly kid at heart. The last one was a short redhead with a fringe hairstyle. He wore a blue sweatshirt, long jeans, and a pair of crocs. The boy was the shortest of the bunch, but still a little taller than Jimmy, and he looked like he was trying way too hard to be intimating.

The three happened to be approaching the gang, and then the short one tripped.

"AARON!" Shouted the blonde lead. “Uh, uh- Sorry, chief!" The redhead soon got back up to his feet.

The front blonde kid then snapped his fingers to get everyone's attention. As he did, he gazed down upon Jimmy.

"Well, looks like we have some new fish in this joint! Hey squirt, you must be Neutron!" “Uhhhh... The pleasure is-" “I'm not done talking yet, nerd! *AHEM*"

The blonde grabbed Jimmy by his hair, and lifted him up to make direct eye contact.

"You and I will be getting to know each other very well."

He then released and just dropped Jimmy, leaving his soft served ice cream hair now out of shape. The gang just stood in silence as they waited for this blonde kid to say something else.

"What? I'm done talking!" Said the blonde. “Who are you jerks, anyways?" Asked Cindy. "Ah, I'm glad you asked, doll! They call me 'Tony!' You BETTER remember that! You are prohibited to call me anything else besides 'Tony!' Understand, huh?" "Chief?" Asked the short redhead. "YOU WERE EVEN LISTENING- Oh. Whaddya want, Aaron?” “I thought you were done talking.” “UGHHHH-“ “And don’t we get an introduction?" "*Sigh* And this is my crew, Mike and Aaron. Call them anything you want, I'm sure they don't mind." "I'm Mike, btw." The tall kid declared. "Coooool! A real school gang! Do you guys have a super cool gang name??" Asked Sheen. “Of course we do, needle-neck! Otherwise we wouldn't be a gang! It may sound simple, but it still manages to strike fear into the weaks' hearts. We call ourselves: Tony Mike n Aaron!" "Oh. Well, it sure is easy to remember." "Dang straight! And you better not forget! As for you, nerd. I'll be seeing you around soon."

With business now done, Tony turned the opposite direction and walked away. Mike fixed Jimmy's hair before catching up with Tony. Aaron just continued to stare at the squad aggressively, trying not to give away a blink. Eventually, he had to stop when Tony called him up. As soon as they were gone, Nick came out of hiding, and got back in place like he never left. And it's a good thing the gang hasn't noticed, otherwise he'd make himself look like a wuss. He was in no mood to deal with those three right now.

"Uhhhh, Jimmy. Shouldn't we be collecting our schedules?" Nick tried to change the subject. "Huh? Oh YEAH! C'mon, team! We don't wanna make a bad impression by being tardy on our first day!"

.........................

Homeroom was with English class. The teacher was a man who looked like he hasn't gotten enough sleep, and talked in a stoic monotone voice. His expression was blank.

"Welcome, class. My name is Mr. Nite. Here we will be learning the art of literature English and how it will build up your doctoral level. Also for other stuff that's very important in the future, bluhblubbluhbluh. Now, can each student stand up from their desk one at a time, and present themselves to me?" “Salutations! My name is Cynthia Vort-" "That will do for now. Thank you all for giving me the chance to know each and every one of you. Now, to start the day, please turn to page 13 in the textbook in front of you. We will be going through Sonata For Harp And Bicycle. When you are finished, there are questions you shall answer at the end of the story. You are also proposed to write a five paragraph summary for Sonata For Harp And Bicycle. We will be reviewing the story tomorrow, write an essay report on the author's background, taking notes on what you learned, and then comes the big test on Friday. Begin now."

Mr. Nite slumped his head down on his desk to take a nap. All the students hesitated for a moment, before opening their textbooks. First day of middle school, and already their week is busy. Well, first day of school is not supposed to be a party. Carl and Sheen went through at least one page. They both started to get a migraine from all the big fancy vocabulary they're never used to, not even when hanging around with Jimmy for years.

.............................

The other classes were just as bizarre and stressful. In music class, the teacher was a grown man with a purple dyed mohawk, visor sunglasses, and other stereotypical attire from the 1980s, also talking in outdated slang. His name was Mr. Beatz. He played his guitar, loud enough to sting the students' ears, and break windows. Libby seemed to be the only one taking a liking to him. They're first assignment was to recreate they're own cover of Do Re Me. He didn't feel like starting with something simple, since "That's so early 2000s."

In home economics class, the teacher was a plain lady who wore chef attire. She also appeared to act like two characters in one. One minute, she's a sweet housewife gently instructing the basics to culinary skills, then the next she turns into a strict food teacher with the cooking arts of a five-star chef, also bearing a British accent. Her name was Mrs. Rosemerry. Their first assignment was to fix up something without a recipe. Lucky for Nick, he could easily survive.

In P.E. class, their coach was some buff, toned women. Right before anyone could introduce themselves, she blew on her whistle and started the first assignment: Run fifty laps around the field. Anyone who gives up, or pukes, has to do a hundred pushups. Her name was Ms. Barbell, by the way.

............................

Everyone became quite exhausted from this long first day. They didn't expect middle school to be quite a challenge. Then again, nobody said growing up was easy. To add insult to injury, all of them had homework. Homework on the first day. Feels like being punished for no reason. Thank goodness lunch has arrived. The squad took their trays and waited in line to be served. Nick, however, brought his own lunch, but he made sure to reserve a table for his friends. Then, Carl and Sheen came in contact with the lunch lady. She looked nothing like a stereotypical lunch lady. In fact, this dollface sweetheart looked like someone who walked out of their dreams. The two boys couldn't help but gaze upon her remarkable beauty. They eventually snapped out of it when she scooped some unidentified glop onto their trays. She was attractive, but not her cooking.

The squad all sat at the table Nick held for them. None of them ate. They just stared at the mystery glop on their trays. Carl gave a taste. It was so revolting, even he couldn't work it down. Libby felt there was meat products cooked into the stuff, so she refused to touch it. Nick, about the only kid at the table who packed something edible, looked at the poor, hungry boy genius. Caring for his best friend, he offered him half of his lunch on a napkin. Then, he started getting hungry stares from Carl and Sheen. He knew that giving Jimmy some of his own lunch would give them the wrong idea that he's just giving out free eats, but he would never let the little guy starve like that. They were drooling down on the table, begging Nick with big, gapping eyes.

"Please, Nick. I gotta keep my blood sugar up." Whined Sheen. "(You say that like it's a bad thing)"

Nick wasn't feeling any sorry for them, but the only way they'd leave him alone is that he gives them what they want. So, he put out his lunchbox and told them to take a little. The two boys helped themselves, feasting greedily like a bunch of animals. After they were done, they wiped off their faces clean with napkins, then slid the lunchbox back to Nick. There was nothing left for him but an empty milk bottle, which had a big mark bitten out of it.

"Thank you very much! Now how am I gonna keep my blood sugar up?" Said frustrated Nick. "Hey, lighten your mood, gang! Sure, the classes are pushy, the teachers are looney, and the food here stinks! Quite literally, too. But, at least there's some good to come out of this!" Exclaimed Sheen. "Like WHAT?” "Recess! GERONIMO!"

Sheen flew towards the door that's suppose to lead to the playground. He crashed with a loud thud, then Jimmy came up to point out the the print on the door says “Pull.” Unfortunately, all he found were students lounging outside; Enjoying their packed lunches, gossiping with each other, reading, or being on their phones and tablets.

"Whoops! This isn't the playground!"

All the outside students overheard Sheen's statement. Some got up from their sitting positions to give him a taste of reality.

"Sounds like you're new around here." "Sorry, we don't have any of that 'little kid' stuff anymore." "No teeter-totter, no slides, no monkey bars, *Sighs* no swings." "Welcome to phase one of growing up. ...sir."

Now this has gone too far. First all this work, no edible nourishment, and now they can't have the one escapism that helped them pull through elementary school.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

The others then met with Sheen outside, surprised themselves to find no recess playground. Just big kids doing "big kid" things. Sheen crawled on his knees and begged to Jimmy.

"Jimmy, could you invent something that would shrink down ages? The peak of adulthood is scary!" "C'mon now, Sheen. An age reversal process isn't gonna fix anything."

Nick then separated the Ultralord fanboy from his short friend, giving him some comfort.

"Don't worry about that, little bud. Sure, this first year has gone through a rocky start, and it'll probably get much worse in the future, but... ...with all our effort, we'll make it through together." "Thanks, Nick. Although, that doesn't seem to make me feel any better." "Oh, buck up, will ya?"

Nick then pulled Jimmy close to him as they decided to find some spot to longue outside, which made Jimmy just blush a bit. And from his tall friend's cheesy motivational speech, he wonders what he's implying when he mentioned "we'll" and "together." Together as in the whole squad as a group, or together as just him and Nick as a pair. Cindy, following behind, watched with indifference on Jimmy and Nick's closeness.

#Jimmy Neutron #Boy Genius #Nick Dean #Sheen Estevez #Carl Wheezer #Libby Folfax #Cindy Vortex #fanfic #Season 4 #I’m sooooooooo sorry for the wait!

13 notes · View notes

edward-trumpet-blog · 4 years

Text

Rick Braun:Life in the Fast Lane

BY TOM ERDMANN

Trumpeter, producer, composer, and arranger Rick Braun is an excellent example of a musician who has quietly worked hard for many years and suddenly is recognized as an “overnight success.” His album with saxophonist Boney James, Shake It Up, was number one on the Billboard magazine Contemporary Jazz Album chart for 11 weeks and has moved around in the top five positions for over a year. The first single from that album, Grazin’ In The Grass, hit number one and stayed there for nine weeks, crossed over to the R&B charts, and was named Best Song of the Year at the 2001 Oasis Smooth Jazz Awards. Braun’s awards also include the 2001 Oasis Smooth Jazz Award of or Best Brass Player and Best Collaboration with Boney James.

Born in Allentown, Pennsylvania on July 6, 1955, Braun took up the trumpet in third grade, studied with Philadelphia Orchestra trumpeter Seymour Rosenfeld, graduated from Dieruff High School in Allentown, and enrolled at he Eastman School of Music. While at Eastman, he was a founding member of the fusion group called Auracle. Their distinctive style was quickly imitated by a number of jazz groups and their recordings became mainstays on jazz radiostations through out the northeast. Braun’s first song to hit the Billboard Top 20 was Here With Me, written for the rock band REO Speedwagon. As a trumpet sideman, Braun has worked and toured with an incredible list of musicians including Tina Turner , Rod Stewart, Glenn Frey, Natalie Cole, Rickie Lee Jones, and War.

Braun released his first solo album in 1992. It was, however, his time with Sade on her Love Deluxe tour that helped him focus on a unique style. Braun’s second recording, Night Walk, has been likened to “listening to Sade instrumentally.” Braun’s big break came on the heel s of his third recording, Beat Street, which spent 13 weeks as the number one contemporary jazz album in Billboard magazine, breaking a record previously held by K enny G . Beat S treet was eventually named the Smooth Jazz Record of the Year. It also won the G avin Artist of the Year and Album of the Year awards in 1996. Braun’s next release, Body and Soul, earned him another Gavin Artist of the Year award. His latest release, Kisses in the Rain, has also hit number one on the Billboard chart.

Braun has never been busier or happier than he is right now. Offered more playing and producing opportunities than he can possibly accept, he is also in demand as a jazz musician performing in clubs throughout the Los Angeles area. Braun is truly enjoying his time in the fast lane and doesn’t show any signs of slowing down.

TE: Why did you choose to play the trumpet?

RB: One of my older brothers played the trumpet and because of that there was a trumpet in a closet at home when I was eight years old. As a kid I was into everything, including the closet. I found the trumpet, put the mouthpiece in, and found that I could get a sound out of it. I think everybody who has ever played the trumpet knows that some people can get a sound out of the instrument, and some people can’t. It’ s not an instrument like the guitar where you just put your hand over the strings and a sound comes out. My first choice had been drums, but I grew up in a small row home in Allentown and I’m one of six kids, so as you can imagine, I was gently steered away from the drums. What my parents didn’t know was that the trumpet was the next most annoying instrument for a beginner to play. I didn’t give up much in the way of offense (laughing); I was still able to annoy my siblings!

TE: Did you come from a musical family?

RB: My mother, who is 84 now, is still very musical and has a good ear. She’s a self taught banjo player.

She played a four-string banjo, the really old kind, and learned piano by herself. On her side of the family my grandfather was a country fiddle player, my grandmother played the piano, and one of my uncles played the cornet. All of the musical talent was on my mother’s side. When my dad tried to sing to us kids at night we would pretend we were asleep so we wouldn’t have to listen to him. The only song he knew was the Notre Dame Fight Song, and he didn’t even like Notre Dame!

TE: I have read that you studied with Seymour Rosenfeld. I had the pleasure of interviewing him and was impressed by what a nice man he is.

RB: You know, he really is.

TE: When did you study with him and how was he able to help you?

RB: I started studying with him my junior or senior year in high school, during the early 1970s. We got into some of the mor e advanced trumpet studies, like thematerial from the Saint-Jacome Trumpet Method and other materials of that nature. He was also the first teacher to introduce me to orchestral excerpts. He wanted me to audition for the Curtis Institute and was really preparing me for that, but I didn’t get in. That year they took only one trumpeter from about 100 who auditioned. As it was I ended up at Eastman, where I really wanted to study jazz.

TE: Were there any other early teachers who inspired you?

RB: My first trumpet teacher, Richard Hinkoe, was great. He is still active as a director of one of the Allentown concert bands. My brother told Hinkoe about me and he agreed to teach me. Hinkoe brought me along especially in music theory. His high school theory courses covered collegiate-level material. When I arrived at Eastman I was put in with the advanced placement theory students and didn’t learn anything new . Hinkoe’s theory course included solfege, sight-singing, counterpoint, four -part harmonic writing, the rules of contrary motion and correct resolution, dominants, altered sixth-chords, and more! He was an amazing teacher!

TE: Allen Vizzutti has told me what an incredible experience Eastman was for him. What was Eastman like for you?

RB: Allen and I played together i n some of the bands at Eastman. He can play anything! I was at a concert where he played one of the Verne Reynolds etudes as a solo. He is just an amazing player. Eastman, on the other hand, was very tense. It was a nerve-wracking experience.

There was one student who developed a nervous habit of pulling out his own hair. I remember during winter midterms one year someone starting lighting couches on fire. That was one side of it. On the other side, it was an outstanding educational experience that was just not for the faint-hearted. It was a highly competitive atmosphere. I had a friend who would get up at 5 a.m. and practice out on the lawn to try to get an edge on everybody else. In many ways Eastman was a humbling experience for me. While in high school, I thought I was the hottest thing around, so I needed to be humbled! The major thing Eastman gave me was exposure to music I’d never heard before, like the music of Clifford Brown, Miles Davis, and Freddie Hubbard. I really started to listen to their playing. I worked to understand the way they played blues changes and how their styles were put together. The education I received at Eastman was exceptional.

TE: Did you graduate?

RB: No I didn’t. I finished my junior year and later took some extra classes at UCLA, but some of the guys in Auracle (Steve Raybine, percussion; Ron Wagner, drums; Bill Staebell, bass; John Serry Jr., piano) were one year older than me, had graduated, and were itching to do something. We planned our next step and realized California was the place we ought to be, so we headed west. Steve Kujala (Auracle’s woodwind player) and I left Eastman one year early, much to the chagrin of our families. It all worked out in the end.

TE: What happened once you arrived in California?

RB: We landed in a band house in the San Fernando Valley. Steve Kujala, Bill Staebell, Ron Wagner, and I all lived together. John Serry and Steve Raybine lived in another house. We struggled, made two records, and played the Montreux Jazz Festival, which w as a big deal. It was fun, we were all good friends, and got a little taste of what it was like to be recording artists at a very early age. Then the whole situation blew up. Our label, Chrysalis, broke up the band after our first recording by signing John Serry to a solo deal. He made a couple of records that didn’t sell well while the rest of us went ahead and made our second record. None of us was really up to the task of filling Serry’s shoes at that point, and it did not go well. It’s the classic story of a record label taking one guy out of a band and destroying the chemistry.

TE: After the band broke up and you found yourself living in California, what happened?

RB: That was probably the darkest time of career. I was not yet established as a trumpet player.

I had some early experiences at session work, but for whatever reason, at that early age, I wasn't able to break into the TV, movie, or commercial scene. I ended up doing odd jobs outside of the music business in order to make enough money to live. I remember being so broke that I wrote a bad check in order to buy food, but ended up taking the food back because I just could not go through with it. I would look at the phone wondering if it was off the hook because nobody was calling. Then, slowly, things picked up. I started to get some gigs playing with Latin bands in East Los Angeles and that developed into steady work. Then I got into playing with rhythm and blues bands and out of that work started touring with War. I also played a lot of bars and weddings, whatever I could find, and joined Jack Mack and the Heart Attacks. They were an R&B band that was very popular on the west coast. As a result of being in that horn section I began working with Glenn Frye and some other well-connected musicians including the guys in Tower of Power. I actually played in their horn section on a Tom Petty record (I played piccolo trumpet on that recording). At some point during that time I hooked up with some of the ended up receiving a call to join that band. I had been struggling, and all of a sudden I’m touring the country with Rod Stew art in a private plane, staying at Four Seasons hotels, and making more money than I ever had in my life. It was both a blessing and a curse. The blessing was that I was better off financially than I had ever been; the curse was that I started to get into drugs and began to drink a lot. On the road there are plenty of ways to get into trouble as far as substance abuse is concerned. The good new s is that I bottomed out and sobered up, and that became a major turning point in my life.

TE: Wasn’t it a kick to play for so many people nigh after night?

RB: It was amazing. I think the most people I ever played for was during a show I did with War in Chicago when the first African-American mayor of that city was elected. The city held a huge concert in Lincoln Park with several hundred thousand people. People were as far back as you could see. The columns of speakers went on forever. I’ve been fortunate; I’ve played for quite a few people in my life.

TE: How did your association with REO Speedwagon come about?

RB: When I wasn’t on the road with Rod, I come back to L.A. and look for gigs. As part of the Jack Mack horn section I played on a n album with REO Speedwagon. The lead singer and writer of REO, Kevin Cronin, and I became friends. Kevin and I had been playing clubs together in a band we had put together with some of the REO Speedwagon guys and some other people. We were both going through hard times over women so I wrote a song about my experience. I had composed it like the Beatles song Yesterday, just a series of verses. Kevin heard it and liked it, and was able to come up with a chorus that really fit the tune. He played it for the guys in the band and they loved it. REO Speedwagon recorded it and it went into the top 20.

TE: Can you tell me how your first solo record came about?

RB:I happened to be in Canada on the road with Rod Stewart and through Steve Kujala I had been introduced to Frank Davies, who is a publisher in Toronto, Canada. I met with Frank one afternoon and played him some of my songs. I invited him to come to the show that night, and it turned out he had worked for Rod way back on his first single. It’s a small world! When Frank heard my instrumental material he said he thought he could get me a deal. He took it from Toronto to Burbank, just 30 miles from where I was living, and got me an independent deal with Mesa/Bluemoon. On Intimate Secrets, my first record, I included a song called Theme from t he Midnight Caller. That song got some significant airplay. My next compact disc was Night walk, followed by Beat Street. During this time I went back on the road with Rod. We were in Europe when my manager called and said that, in America, Beat Street was getting a lot of attention and doing so well that I was going to have to make a decision. I was either going to have to continue to be a highly-paid sideman or give my notice and take the solo gigs that didn’t pay a lot of money but would help me build a career as a leader. I took all of two seconds to think that over. I gave Rod my notice and jumped on a plane back to the States. I was willing to take the risk.

TE: That had to be an exciting time.

RB: It was really exciting. When I first came out with Intimate Secrets, the promotion guy at Mesa/Bluemoon was trying to get some airplay for the recording. He told me that many stations would not play it because it featured a trumpet lead. At that time the only horn players getting airtime were saxophone players. I finally broke through when Beat Street was released and won Artist and CD of the Year Awards at the Gavin Convention (Gavin covers the American radio industry, collecting and compiling the playlists of more than 1, 300 radio stations). Beat Street broke Kenny G’s record for most consecutive weeks as the number one contemporary jazz record and helped set me up as a solo artist.

TE: You have stated that work you did with Sade was important to your musical development. Can you elaborate?

RB: The Sade tour was important because she helped me establish a style. Sade's whole show is about sensuality. I've never been a b listening lead trumpet player, and that tour gave me direction and helped me solidify the idea that I don't have to be an Arturo Sandoval type of player in order to get my message across. Sade is a minimalist on stage. From that, I realized that what I have to offer as a musician is valid, and as long as I believe in it and I'm committed to it, I can create a musical fingerprint.

TE: (Jazz saxophonist) Joe Lovano once told me that the great ar tists have a sound that is recognizable in the first three notes. I remember he and I were laughing about the truth to tha t statement and he said,“Three notes, boom, John Coltrane; three notes, boom, Eric Dolphy.”

RB: That is it exactly. Look at Miles.

TE: I read a critic who said that you are the man who reintroduced the trumpet to the contemporary jazz scene. For the longest time, the only music that was getting played by horn players was by saxophonists. How does it feel to have had that kind of an effect on the music scene?

RB: It feels good that I've got a house I can pay for by doing the thing I love to do. That is the ultimate gift—doing what I want to do for a living. I am amazingly fortunate. I think part of the reason I've been so blessed has to do with timing. When I came out with Beat Street, there was a need for another voice. At that time there were only saxophonists like Grover (Washington Jr.), David Sanborn, and Kirk Whalum; George Benson on guitar; and David Benoit and Joe Sample on keyboards. After Chuck Mangione stopped getting airplay, the only other candidate was Herb Alpert, and he had stopped making records with any degree of frequency. There was a window of opportunity and I was fortunate to be in a position to make records. Another thing that happened with Beat Street is that people started coming up to me and saying, "Man, I knew that hip-hop beat was going to catch on." Interestingly enough, the production on that album was minimal at a time w hen bands like The Rippingtons and SpyroGyra were doing complicated material. Beat Street by comparison is really very sparse.

TE: I have to admit I hate the term “smooth jazz,” but there are a number of traditional jazz musicians who have been putting out albums under that title; saxophonist Kenny Garrett and keyboardist Rachel Z come to mind. It seems that many jazz artists are going in this direction. I have found that with the best players there is no snobbery in music anymore.

RB: Well, I wish that were true for everyone. We cannot get a decent hearing from any of the reviewers in Los Angeles. The L.A. Times has the door totally shut. The reviewers won't even stay for the shows. I had a conversation with one of them who just started slamming the music. I was convinced he hadn't even listened to my record, which turned out to be true. I told him that maybe he should listen to it before being critical. He did go home and listen to my compact disc, and called me back to say that he enjoyed it.

TE: I've let a number of my collegiate jazz students borrow some of your recordings. The other day one of them came by and mentioned how he was surprised and delighted that you find ways to go past stereotypical smooth jazz, both harmonically and melodically.

RB: Last week I played a straight-ahead gig with Gerald Albright on saxophone, Harvey Mason on drums, Dave Garfield on keyboards, and Kenny Wild on bass. We played at the Baked Potato, which is just a little club here in California. We didn't tell anyone we were going to do it, but as often happens, word spread. For me, it is just so much fun to play straight-ahead. And when I practice, I practice that way. I practice scales, flexibility, etc. For me, the way I'm going to improve as a player is by learning how to play changes better. No matter what you have laid out as a solo, you still have to navigate the changes. It probably sounds simplistic to even mention it in that way, but that's the way it is. It's a lifelong challenge!

TE: Many musicians say it’s the struggle that seems to keep them going. They’re always looking for the next mountain to scale, pardon the pun, or the next musical peak to climb.

RB: Yes, exactly. Along with that thought, I always found myself thinking that the moment I ’m really pleased with something I ’ve played, I immediately find something else I didn’t like. It’s really about taking a Zen approach to the music. For me, when I practice, it’s about refining the craft, improving my technique, and increasing the number of too ls available to me. I’m always working to increase the number of scales, patterns, and other musical materials which I have available. When I perform I want to approach the music with the Zen concept of not thinking ahead or behind, just being in the moment. That’s when I think I’m doing my best work.

TE: Do you still find the time to practice?

RB: Yes, I really do. I don’t practice as much as I would like to. When I ’m producing, I need to spend a great deal of time with the artist. When working with other artists, there are a number of other things that go into the pr oduction, and those things take away from the time I want to spend practicing. When I’m traveling, I’ll have to spend the whole day on the road, and when I finally arrive in the hotel it’ll be time to sleep. I’ll have to go into a big show without practicing the previous day.

TE: Are there things you like to practice on a daily basis?

RB: What I’ll try to do now is find patterns of five or six notes that I really like and then explore them, fully develop them, interpolate them, and run them in all key areas. I’m trying to build my musical vocabulary. I also like to play the piano. Having an instrument that allows me to think of harmonies in a non-horizontal way helps to visualize what’s going on underneath the melody. Another thing, and I’m not ashamed to say this, is that part of my practice is done to the Jamey Aebersold recordings. For the most part, when the music is recorded with a live band, as opposed to when it sounds like it was sequenced, it is absolutely great. I have a studio here at home, and I’ll transfer a track like Joy Spring onto my hard disk, set up a microphone, and lay down several tracks. Then I’ll go back and listen critically. I try to under stand where my problems are and then work to improve my weaknesses.

TE: What advice do you have for young musicians?

RB: Here’s what I did that was a mistake. When I was at Eastman, I used to go to the practice rooms in the basement where everybody would walk by and hear you. I’m a natural ham. I always wanted to sound good and to impress people, so I would play the first couple of bars of Brandenburg No. 2. I couldn’t get through the whole thing to save my life, but I had the first entrance nailed! I think kids need to know that you have to practice what sounds bad. Play the material that sounds the worst, and practice it the most. Of course you want to play stuff you can play well, and I do too, but instead of always playing in F minor, play in B minor or F-sharp minor. Instead of playing a blues scale, work on the Lydian chromatic concept and Mixolydian scales. One of the things I did when I was learning the trumpet was to take the Clarke Technical Studies and incorporate them into as many different scale forms as possible. Early jazz education is usually restricted to major, minor, and diminished. Rarely do you learn about altered or Dorian scales until you get to a more advanced level. By adapting the Clarke studies i n a variety of ways, you create a big toolbox. If major and minor are the only scales that are second nature, you will be limited. It would be like fixing a car with only a wrench and a screwdriver. You’ll soon find that you need more tools!

Equipment

Mr. Braun plays a Getzen trumpet and flugelhorn from the custom series. His trumpet has a cryogenically treated bell. His mouthpieces are from his own signature series by Marcinciewicz Music Products.

#rickbraun #trumpet #beatstreet

1 note · View note

obaewankenope · 5 years

Text

on the ranking of angels

the whole ranking of angels kinda comes from one guy: pseudo-dionysius the areopagite from 5th century ad, this dude gave us the basis for ranking angels in groups, levels, grades, choirs etc

we don’t really know who tf he was since he literally just made himself out to be some psuedo version of dionysius (because we obviously needed another dionysius in human history) and i’d love to time travel and kick him in the nads if i could.

anyway. so yeah. ranking angels.

my upbringing is catholic and i went to communion and read that godsawful bible and blah-blah and so on so like, a lot of my own understanding stems from that and then the deranged Research Frenzies i’m known for. this means i’ve done learning about this topic and generally, i feel like there’s a bit of a... misunderstanding in the good omens fandom as to where aziraphale, crowley (as raphael or not), gabriel and co seem to land in terms of ranks and power levels.

cherubim, seraphim, archangels... fancy words we sort of know but don’t really Get. time to get em.

F I R S T S P H E R E

saraph/seraph-im:

according to tradition, these boys are top dog in christian theology but fifth in jewish. my memory serves to remind me that archangels are also seraphim and that the three main types of angels are cherubs, saraph, and thrones with the other spheres being more titles for them to have on top of that. i’ve read online where the archangels michael, gabriel, and samael/lucifer are either saraph or cherubs but this is... well, thanks to pseudo-dionysius, not exactly easy to frickin’ parse. the book of isaiah describes saraphs as having six wings (two on the back, two hiding the face, two at the feet/genitals).

this means that gabriel, lucifer, michael, uriel and even sandalphon (dude why no ‘iel’ on the end, it’s sad) are higher ranks than aziraphale in terms of sheer power even if they may be outranked by aziraphale regarding humans proper. make sense? nope? not surprising.

cherub-im:

cherubs attend to god and are also kinda shoved into the joyous role of guarding eden. in jewish theology, cherubs are either second or third lowest ranked (eighth or ninth) compared to the saraphs who are middle of the way. it’s from cherubs -- described in the book of ezekiel -- that we have that many faced, multi-winged conception of angels btw. usually a lion, ox, human, and eagle to represent all types of animals (where’s the snake you say? crowley nicked it... probably). thanks to some later western christian traditions we kinda see cherubs as plump, little, babies with those bows with love-heart arrows (probably crowley’s doing to piss aziraphale off). cherubs do have two pairs of wings (four in total) compared to the six that saraphs have, making them different at least there.

so aziraphale being a cherub makes sense. but he’s gonna be second-tier to saraphs like gab’ and co thus he does still obey gabriel as and when required--only in regards to humans can aziraphale kinda disobey because principality trumps archangel with humans but again, gabriel has more pull in heaven and can still punish him (plus gabriel is an asshole in the show and is Just Like That)

thrones aka ophanim:

these fellas are kinda just guards of gods throne. they’re called thrones or galgalim (refers to ezekiel’s wheels during his vision of the chariot). a dead sea scroll calls them angels and puts them below saraphs and cherubs while the book of enoch says they never sleep (like saraphs and cherubs) and guard god’s throne. i can’t really find any names ascribed to this group but are associated with meting out divine justice and maintain cosmic harmony.

i can only imagine how Done they are with crowley over him stopping time...

i’m just gonna straight up skip the second sphere because, well; dominions organise lower angels and keep things ticking over; virtues are the sign post makers of divine shit; and powers/authorities just watch a lot and keep things running along on a cosmic scale. so, administrators. literally. poor civil servants of heaven. they probably don’t even get a decent pay.

the third sphere is what we’re interested in anyway, because of the whole “principalities outrank archangels tho” stuff. so here we are

T H I R D S P H E R E

principalities:

principalities/rulers are guides and protectors of nations and institutions. so you’d have a principality guarding the catholic church, one covering the orthodox church, another who deals with maybe protecting italy and so on. aziraphale is the principality of the eastern gate of eden, that- that’s a pretty big thing. principalities wear crowns and carry sceptres, and carry out the orders given to them by upper sphere angels.

in canon, aziraphale is a principality, but i can’t recall him being called anything. i’m not sure if it’s fandom deciding here’s a cherub or not, ignoring the spheres or not, or whatever, but he doesn’t Really rank above gabriel. gaiman himself made a note of the difference between Archangels and archangels - the capital A makes the difference. so see seraphs as Archangels and third sphere archangels as the generic boys.

in my mind, gabriel and michael -- as pretty much the only really named archangels in christian theology -- are the Archangels whilst sandalphon and uriel are archangels. so aziraphale can ignore two of the four but not michael or gabriel outright (we’re not discussing the disobedience by avoidance tactic he employs a lot). expanding the Archangel category to include maybe Raphael (angel of healing) and Azrael (angel of death) works too, but generally, aziraphale can’t disobey direct orders from them because they are his bosses. unless -- and this is the thing -- it comes to something involving His Specific Principality. but being the principality of eden is... well, eden doesn’t exist anymore. some major mental gymnastics would be required for aziraphale to decide Earth Is Eden Thus Earth Is My Principality SUCK IT GABRIEL and ignore heaven... actually... this might well explain a fair amount of his behaviour lmao. someone else can play with That tho.

archangels:

funnily enough, archangels aren’t mentioned in the bible more than two or three times. in christianity, gabriel is called an archangel but there’s actually nothing in the bible to support that. michael is called an archangel in the new testament tho. the word means “chief angel” coming from greek archein for first in rank or power -- hence why it’s a bit odd for archangels to be ranked below others. archangel is only ever a singular term and used Only for michael btw.

but in the book of tobit/tobias, we get an archangel raphael, an archangel uriel is also brought up in anglican and russian orthodox religions. raphael isn’t really considered a Canon angel outside of roman catholicism (my lot btw), eastern orthodox and anglicans, whilst uriel isn’t mentioned in the western christian bible at all.

raphael gives us the idea of seven archangels btw - from the book of tobit where he says he’s “one of the seven who stand before the Lord”.

in the books of enoch and revelations, we’re told that there are seven spirits of god that stand before the throne and some interpretations have the seven archangels as those seven spirits.

depending on the theological tradition, the names of the archangels vary. the ones i know of as roman catholic are gabriel, michael, and raphael (lucifer doesn’t count bc he’s fallen obvs), whereas eastern orthodox has seven and even an extra one depending: michael, gabriel, raphael, uriel, selaphiel/salathiel, jegudiel/jehudiel, barachiel, and jerahmeel/jeremiel.

the names vary depending on what faith you are but, generally, the three most common are gabriel, michael, and raphael - who are described as seraphim or cherubim and archangels as like their job title.

angels:

regular dudes. i cba even going Into This One Okay?

so all of this means that aziraphale is second to gabriel no matter what unless he does some awesome mental gymnastics and claims earth as eden and argues it’s his job to oversee it as fit (just imagine the vein in gabriel’s head popping from That Conversation).

aziraphale is definitely powerful, he’d have to be as a principality of eden - it’s kind of a Big Deal to be in charge of eden, even if you might share the job with three others - but he’s not quite as powerful as an archangel who is basically the second in command of heaven after god.

unless, as i’ve said, aziraphale draws on his position as a principality and uses That over gabriel who seems very set on his “i’m the fucking archangel gabriel” spiel lmao.

so yeah. this is just A Thing for me. idk if any one else feels this way about it all or not, but you can ignore me about all of this. i’m not an Authority on it and honestly, this is more to make sense of it all For Myself than to Tell Ya’ll How It Ought To Be.

#Good Omens #Ineffable husbands #Crowley #Aziraphale #archangels #cherubim #saraphim #saraphs #seraphim #cherub #angel rankings #angelic choirs #gabriel #michael #meta #kat writes #i got distracted from fic by this lmao

115 notes · View notes

avasharpe · 4 years

Text

Sugar and Salt

Chapter: Two of ?

Summary: When Sin is bullied on the bus ride home Sara meets with their teacher Ava. The two butt heads on the best possible course of action, but later realize the other might not be so bad.

Fandom: DC’s Legends of Tomorrow.

Relationship: Sara Lance/Ava Sharpe.

Characters: Sara Lance, Ava Sharpe, Kendra Saunders, Sin, Amaya Jiwe, Zari Tomaz, Behrad Tomaz, Kuasa, Aldus Boardman, Mona Wu, Nora Darhk, Mick Rory, Quentin Lance, and Laurel Lance.

Chapter Rating: General Audiences.

Additional Tags: Bakery and Coffee Shop, Teacher AU, Mutual Pining, Parent-Teacher AU, Non-binary character, Trans Character.

Read at AO3

Read at FFN

Special thanks to @canaryatlaw for editing this for me.

……………………………………………………………………

Sara bounced from one foot to the other and rubbed her arms. It was an unusually cold day for early March in Star City, dropping below the average 40 degrees to 33 degrees. There was frost on the trees and the plants along the sidewalk of the apartment building when she saw Sin off on the school bus from the bakery that morning, although it had melted when the sun chose to shine that afternoon.

Sara checked her watch again, yep, the bus was late. A whole ten minutes late. She’d been pacing in and out of the small foyer to the steps and the sidewalk, before deciding to just stick it out on the curb. She could wait inside the entryway for the bus to pull up, but she felt the need to sit out on the sidewalk and freeze because she missed her kid that damn much.

It was Monday, so not her usual day off as the bakery and cafe was open on weekdays, but an entitled asshole had come in to pick up their online order of cupcakes and had insisted on a discount they didn’t have. The role of kicking them out usually fell to Amaya and Sara, and Amaya was out delivering a wedding cake leaving Sara to deal with them alone. It didn't go well. It was one of the few times that she was thankful her dad was a cop. Quentin had dropped everything to rush over to the shop after that asshole got violent and took a swing at her.

After Amaya got back, she insisted Sara take the rest of the day off and go spend some time with Sin. Sara tried to switch with Kendra and pick up the kids, babysitting until four when they closed, but they all but pushed her out of the shop and told her to go home. Her plan was to take Sin to the skate park then, rent that new superhero movie, pop some popcorn, and settle in for a quiet night.

Finally, the yellow, number thirteen, Glades Elementary school bus turned up the street and stopped in front of her, the doors swinging open. Sara smiled as she saw Sin’s black pants and matching converse at the top of the stairs, her little punk rocker. The bus driver Mona, stepped out of her seat behind them with her hand on Sin's shoulder. As she followed them down the stairs, Sara's smile fell when she saw Sin step off the bus.

Their usual happy face was somber, with red eyes that sparkled with tears. Their hands were straight at their sides and clenched into fists. Sara rushed to them, kneeling down to their level and placing her hands on their shoulders.

“Sin what happened?” Sara tried to keep her voice even, but her heart broke at the sight of them crying, and her mind rushed to the worst case scenario.

Sin didn't even look at her. Instead, they stared down at the ground then, they quickly brushed off Sara's hands and ran past her, up the stairs and into the apartment.

Sara stood up in disbelief and looked at Mona with pleading eyes. “What happened?”

“Some of the other kids were bullying Sin.” Mona said, then quickly added. “I stopped it as soon as I noticed it happening and pulled the other kids to the front of the bus.”

“Do you know what it was about?” Sara asked, still in disbelief. Nothing like this had ever happened before, not even when Sin had come out as non-binary over the summer.

“I'm not exactly sure, but the girls were calling them unintelligent. They used the R word. I radioed the school to let them know what happened and they'll probably want to meet with you tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Sara said. Still in disbelief, she started to turn away.

“Sin’s a great kid, so I don't know what they're talking about,” Mona said, giving her a small smile.

“Thank you,” Sara said nodding, with a tight lipped smile of her own.

Mona let her go and she rushed up the stairs and into the apartment building, not bothering to take the elevator to the third floor. The apartment door was left swinging open in Sin’s haste, and Sara quickly closed and locked it. She headed over to Sin's room and grabbed the tissue box along the way. The door was closed and Sara hesitated, knocked under the letters that spell out Sin’s name, painted Black with silver spikes.

“I’m coming in,” Sara announced when she heard no response and opened the door to see Sin sprawled out on their bed face down sobbing with their backpack and shoes still on.

“Oh baby,” Sara sighed, walking forward and sitting on the bed next to them. She leaned down and wrapped her arms around them, backpack and all.

“They.. they called me stupid... and… and… dumb... and...” Sin said through tears, their voice shaking.

“I’m so sorry baby. They should've never said that to you. You didn't deserve that.” Sara whispered in their ear.

“It's all her fault!” Sin yelled.

“Whose fault honey? Tell me, it's okay.”

“Ms. Sharpe.”

“What?” Sara was shocked at Sin’s revelation. Although she had only met the 4th grade teacher a few times before on orientation night, parent’s night, and stuff, she really seemed to care about her students. Sure she could be strict, but she was kind and Sin had always come home from school happy, going on about how great school was.

“Come here” Sara said, pulling Sin up. She wiped away their tears and slipped their backpack off, leaving it on the floor. “Why don’t we grab some ice cream from the freezer and you can tell me the whole story, okay?”

“It's too cold,” Sin whined.

“Then we’ll make hot chocolate, with the big marshmallows.”

“On the stove, like Papa Quentin makes?”

“Of course!”

Sin nodded and Sara pulled them up, carrying them out into the hall. Sin barely weighed 60lbs, but they weren't a toddler anymore. Sara specifically worked out just so she could still do this, even if the times she did had become few and far between.

Sara set them on the counter, then got to work pulling out the chocolate chips and the double boiler. They made the hot chocolate with extra big marshmallows and once they got settled on the couch with their favorite mugs, Sara waited for them to start.

“I didn’t do my math homework from this weekend,” Sin admitted with defeat. “I just don’t like it, it’s too hard!”

“Okay,” Sara said, choosing to ignore the admission in favor of hearing the whole story.

“Well, Ms. Sharpe has this hour at the end of the day for us to work on homework and stuff, and she talked to me about it. She showed me how to do long division, but I just didn’t get it. Then she said I would have to go to the special ed class, because I’m re….”

“Sin,” Sara said softly stopping them there. “You are not the word that the kids on the school bus called you. Everyone struggles with math at some point. I know I did. You are capable of anything and we can figure this out together. I promise!”

Sin nodded, drawing strength from Sara and sitting up straighter. “Will I have to go to the special ed class?”

Sara knew her kid, and she knew that with a little extra help Sin could catch back up to her class.

“You will remain in your class with your friends and I’ll try and work things out with your teacher.” Sara assured them, “In the meantime, I’m gonna help you with your homework and we’ll get it done together.”

“Us against the world?” Sin asked with a smile.

“Us against the world,” Sara said, matching their smile and holding out her fist. Sin enthusiastically fist bumps her, making the explosion noise afterwards.

……………………………………………………………………

Sara paced back and forth in the hall, holding her phone to her ear, waiting for Kendra to pick up. She caught Sin looking over at her from their spot at the kitchen table and sent them a smile and a thumbs up, before turning back to the dark green walls. She didn't know why their landlord wouldn't let her paint, even with the extra floor lamp Sara had squeezed in by the door, the dark hallway was never lit enough.

“Hey you,” Kendra said, finally picking up and enthusiastically greeting Sara.

“Did you know that she has them doing long division with three digit numbers?” Sara whisper yelled into the phone.

“Umm,” Kendra hesitated before Sara heard her yell at Carter. “Honey, is Hector doing three digit long division?”

Sara didn't hear his reply, but a second later Kendra gave her an answer. “Yes.”

Sara sighed and rubbed her forehead. “Why didn’t I start helping her out when it was just division?”

Kendra chuckled, “If it makes you feel better I can’t do it either and I thought Laurel was helping Sin with their homework?”

“Yeah apparently they were telling Laurel that I was helping them, so they were giving both of us the runaround.”

That night Laurel was planning to head out with friends so it would be just the two of them. Sara was hesitant to move in with her sister after she and Nyssa were forced apart two years ago, but Laurel helped her out a lot. She was always there for them. Sara tried to return the favor by doing more than her fair share of the housework and making sure Laurel didn’t drown herself in work.

“Well at least you're helping them now,” Kendra said, and Sara just shook her head.

“Not by much, It’s been an hour and we’re only halfway through this worksheet that was supposed to take twenty munites.”

“Why don’t you come over now and Carter can help you two get a hold of it?”

“Thanks, you're a lifesaver,” Sara said, grabbing her coat and Sin’s from their hooks. “We’ll be there in five and can we come over tomorrow as well? I’ll bring dinner.”

“Yeah, sounds good. So what clued you into the fact that Sin was lying about who was helping them with their homework?”

Sara sighed, leaning up against the wall. “Sin came home in tears today after a couple of kids were bullying them on the bus. Apparently, they overheard Ms. Sharpe telling Sin they might need to go to the special ed room for math help.”

“What? She said that?” Kendra said in disbelief.

“I know right! How dare she tell Sin that before even consulting with me!” Sara tried to keep her voice down, but she was just so angry. “I have a meeting with her tomorrow morning so I’ll let you know how it goes.”

“Okay, see you soon.”

“Yeah, thanks again.”

“No problem.”

Sara hung up and then walked back into the kitchen. “Hey so I called Auntie Kendra and she said that we could come over and Uncle Carter is gonna help us get your homework done.”

Sin nodded and gathered their papers in their backpack, Sara pulled on her coat and held out Sin’s coat for them to put on. Sin ran out the door and down the hall pressing the button on the elevator as Sara locked the door behind them.

“Mom, how come I have other aunts and uncles?” Sin asked once Sara had joined them waiting for the elevator.

“What?” Sara asked, still thinking about that last math problem.

“You know like how Auntie Laurel is your sister, and Aunt Lisa was Dad’s sister, but Auntie Kendra and Uncle Nate, they aren’t related to us?”

“Well,” Sara said, putting her arm around them and leading them onto the elevator. “Auntie Kendra, Uncle Mick, and the others became my family when I was in college and when I had you, they became your family too.”

“Were they Dad’s family too?” Sin asked.

Sara smiled, but she felt a familiar pain in her heart. Talking about Leonard, Sin’s father and her then-boyfriend had gotten easier since he had died six years ago.

“Yes, your Dad and Uncle Mick used to get into all sorts of trouble.”

“Really?”

“Yes, like there was this one time…”

……………………………………………………………………

Sara walked the halls of Sin’s school with Sin by her side that morning. She felt confident as she went over what she was going to say to Ms. Sharpe in her head. The night before Carter had walked her through the steps on how to do long division. They were able to get the homework done in time to be in bed at a reasonable hour. Working with Carter had solidified Sara's belief that Sin just needed a little extra help.

Now all Sara had to do was talk to Ms. Sharpe and things would be taken care of. Sin could go back to class without being bothered and Sara could spend the rest of the day knowing her kid was happy and taken care of. Sara hesitated at the door to Sin’s classroom, peering in the window to see that Ms. Sharpe was sitting at her desk. She had to be civil about this if she wanted it to go anywhere. She felt Sin squeeze her hand and looked down, so she gave them a smile and squeezed Sin’s hand in return. Then she took a deep breath, pushed open the door, and plastered her fake customer service smile on her face.

Sara would never admit it but, she kind of had the hots for Ms. Sharpe. She was tall, with soft blonde hair, dark blue eyes, and an oval face that had soft features. Not usually Sara’s type, but then again she never really considered herself to have a specific body type, she was bisexual. However, she did like people who were confident and passionate, if not a little wild. These days she just wanted someone who was kind and treated her and her child with respect.

“Hello, Ms. Sharpe, I'm Mrs. Lance, Sin’s mother.”

Ms. Sharpe stood up and straightened her white button up shirt and buttoned her suit jacket. “Mrs. Lance, a pleasure as always. I didn't know you were bringing Sin along.”

“They are the reason we're here,” Sara said, placing her hands on Sin’s shoulders and leading them over to Ms. Sharpe’s desk.

Ms. Sharpe gave her a tight smile, and Sara knew that most teachers prefered to have meetings without the children present, but nonetheless she gestured to the thankfully adult-sized chair in front of her desk. “Please have a seat, Mrs. Lance and then why don't you grab a chair as well Sin.”

While Sin grabbed a chair from the nearest desk, Sara took a moment to look around the classroom. The morning sun peeked in through the blinds, casting its glow over the desks. They were pushed together in groups of four at the front of the classroom, facing the projector and white board. The side of the board listed the schedule, as well as the topics for that day's lessons. There had been talk of getting smart boards, but Sara knew it wasn't in the budget; regardless, Ms. Sharpe worked well with what she had. In the back she had child sized comfy chairs with a floor lamp that looks like the one they had in their apartment hallway surrounded by wooden bookshelves.

It wasn’t like the classrooms of Sara’s childhood, there were no bright colors or boards filled with the same kids projects, colorful maps and bright alphabets. Instead, there were lots of plants, succulents and other little house plants lined the shelves, there was one palm tree in the corner about halfway to the ceiling.

There was a large map of the U.S. in greens and browns, and a list of words were organized with magnets on the left whiteboard that Sara had seen some of the kids use many times. The other wall was filled with artwork and each child's abstract picture was unique with different colors, styles, and shapes. The way it was displayed on the wall was more alike to a parent putting their kids pictures on the fridge than an overt display of work. The only bright and colorful things were fish in the large tank at the back of the room. All in all, the classroom looked homey.

“Well, let's get right into it,” Ms. Sharpe began, once they were both seated. “I’ve been informed that Sin was verbally assaulted by Cassandra Savage and Freydís Eriksson on the bus ride home yesterday. I've spoken with both the girl's parents and with the principal over the phone this morning and rest assured it will not happen again. I've moved Sin’s desk away from the two girls and Mona has agreed to keep the kids separate while they're on the bus and when she’s helping in the classroom. Going forward, I will be keeping an eye on the situation and I will not let it happen again under my watch.”

“That's good,” Sara said, letting go of some of the stress she had and partially relaxed back into the chair. “When can we expect an apology from the girls?”

“They will write an apology and present it to Sin this afternoon.”

“They’re gonna be at school today?” Sin asked, suddenly timid.

“I thought they’d get suspended?” Sara asked.

“That's not the school’s policy. We believe in having the children face up to what they have done, with more appropriate methods, such as the apology letter and a true understanding of why what they did was wrong. Not a vacation from school. Kids like Cassandra and Freydís will benefit from being here more than at home.”

“Having a tough home life doesn’t excuse their behavior,” Sara said.

“I'm not excusing it. I'm telling you why, and what I'm doing to try and help everyone.”

Sara huffed. “That makes sense, but you really shouldn't be openly talking about your student’s home life like that.”

“I never said anything about...” Ms. Sharpe started, then paused and gave Sara a look like she wanted to continue, but instead, she took a deep breath and straightened her jacket again.

Sin tugged on Sara’s arm and gave her a nervous look, “Mom do I have to go to the special ed classroom?”

Sara wrapped an arm around them and tugged their chair closer to her and whispered to them. “No, it’ll be okay.”

“You have nothing to fear Sin, this class is a safe place for you.” Ms. Sharpe said, having assumed that was what they were whispering about.

“Yeah, about that,” Sara started, taking a less than amused tone. “Yesterday Sin said that you wanted to place them in the special ed classroom after they struggled to finish the math assignment that you gave them.”

“I said that…”

“Why would you say that without talking to me first?” Sara demanded.

“Let me explain.”

“Oh please do!”

Ms. Sharpe looked away from Sara to Sin, who still sat at Sara’s side, leaning into her and gripping her arm, while bouncing their leg.

“Sin, Miss. Nora is in the library setting up for today, I’d bet she’d love your help!” Ms. Sharpe offered.

Sin looked up at Sara, who just gave them a squeeze and turned back to Ms. Sharpe. “Anything you want to say to me you can say to Sin.”

Ms. Sharpe took a deep breath before speaking. “I believe Sin may have Dyscalculia. It’s a learning disability like Dyslexia, but it involves numbers rather than letters. It’s characterized in children who have difficulty organizing and memorizing numbers and other math concepts, even telling time can be a struggle. I had a few examples of Sin’s work that highlights these aspects if you'd like to see.”

She held out some of the math work Sin had done and Sara took it from her and quickly glanced over. “I believe Sin would benefit from going over to the special education classroom or getting some extra math time with one of our Paraeducators like Mona, for the last hour of class and receiving some extra guidance in this area a few times a week.”

“Sin doesn't have any learning disabilities.”

“I know this is hard to hear.”

“I know for sure!” Sara said. “After their father died, I took Sin to therapy to help them. The therapists noticed something just like you did and thought it would be wise to have her tested as well. We went through the whole process and nothing came of it. The school should know about it, Sin’s teacher knew and we kept the school in the loop. What we did find was that Sin just started making more mistakes when they felt nervous. Which isn't so unusual for any kid.”

At that point, Sara was surprised that Ms. Sharpe gave her a confused look. “I never saw or heard anything like that when I went over Sin’s file at the start of the year.”

“Well I'll have the paperwork sent over to you,” Sara said, with more malice than was necessary.

“Well, I'd be happy to read it,” Ms. Sharpe said, giving Sara every ounce of sass right back to her.

“Great.”

“Great. I think we're done here,” Ms. Sharpe said standing up and offering her hand to Sara.

Sara remained seated and she could feel Sin glanced over at her but there was one more thing she wanted from Ms. Sharpe.

“I believe you owe me and my child an apology, especially since your words were the reason Cassandra and Freya were bullying them.” Sara said, raising an eyebrow at her.

Ms. Sharpe clenched her teeth, but nonetheless looked down. “I didn’t know that’s why they were bothering you Sin.”

Her words were sincere, then she looked back up, looking them in the eye. “I am sorry for what I said to you in front of the other children. It should have been discussed in private.”

“Thank you,” Sin said, standing up and offering her hand for Ms. Sharpe to shake. Sara’s eyes bugged out as they did so, they had done the mature thing and forgiven Ms. Sharpe.

“Of course,” Ms. Sharpe replied with a smile that Sin returned.

Sara decided to do the right thing and shake Ms. Sharpe’s hand as well. She stood up and went to leave with Sin.

“You could stay if you wanted to,” Ms. Sharpe said. “I usually open up my classroom for the early kids right about now.”

“We’ve still got a half hour or so and I figured we could play on the playground. That sound fun to you kiddo?” Sara said.

“Yeah,” Sin said excitedly, grabbed her arm and raced ahead of her.

In the hallway Sara put her arm around Sin’s shoulder, giving them a side hug.

“I'm really proud of you holding your hand out to shake your teacher’s hand and accepting her apology. That's what I mean when I ask you to be the bigger person sometimes.”

“Thanks Mom. I'm proud of you too, you stood up for me.”

“I am always on your side,” Sara said. Then she switched to her ‘monster Mom’ voice wrapping her arms around Sin and swiping them up in a hug. “Because I love you so freaking much.”

“Mom,” Sin complained, trying to sound angry at her. “You're ruining my hair.”

“Right, sorry,” Sara said, returning to her normal voice and setting them down.

Sara grabbed the compact mirror from Sin’s backpack and held it up so they could fix their hair. Sin ran their fingers through it, styling their short black hair into a spiky swept back style. Their Uncle Nate had helped them cut it and learn to style it when they had first cut it short. Sara was grateful for friends in their lives who were there for both of them like family.

It was almost time for school and there were several kids in the hallways milling about and talking with other teachers and kids. Sara figured she could play on the playground with Sin for a few minutes before sending them back into the classroom. However, once they got outside, they hesitated instead of running towards the playground as they usually did.

“Mom, do I have to go to school today?”

Sara followed their line of sight to where Cassandra and Freydís were playing on the playground.

“I think we could take a mental health day and spend it at the skatepark if you wanted to?”

“Can we?” Sin asked in a way that made Sara's heartbreak as she heard the pain and need in her child's voice.

“Of course,” she said, putting her arm around them again and leading them over to the car.

……………………………………………………………………

The second the door closed behind Sin and her mother, Ava slumped back into her chair. In her ten years of teaching, she had never had a parent come after her like that, although there were several who had been particularly terrible. Parents never wanted to hear about their child's potential disability or struggles in class. She wished they were more open about it, as they were only hurting the child they were so desperate to protect.

But maybe Ava was wrong, maybe Sin didn't have a disability like she thought. She sighed and looked over Sin’s homework again, as she looked over the little mistakes the child had made. It could have simply been because they were stressed, or there could be something more to it. Honestly it could go either way, and Ava would have preferred to have a more professional opinion, but without Mrs. Lance's approval, she knew she would never get that answer.

Ava looked up at the clock on the wall. School wouldn't start for another hour and the majority of her early students wouldn’t be there for a couple more minutes and they probably wouldn't mind hanging around in the halls or on the playground. She grabbed her keys and locked her room but, before she headed over to the library, she peeked in the classroom of her grade neighbor and brother, Nate Heywood, to check on her son Gary. She smiled when she saw him completely absorbed in one of his adventure books. Nate saw her and waved her in, but Ava declined with a shake of her head, not wanting to disturb Gary during his favorite pastime.

She turned around and headed down to the hall, quickly finding Nora among the shelves as she put away the books that had been returned the previous day. The library was mostly empty, save for a couple of students in the reading nook around the corner.

“Hey,” Nora said when she saw Ava approach her.

“I just got the tongue lashing of a lifetime from one of my student’s mothers,” Ava whispered to her.

“Oh?” Nora said pausing. “What for?”

Ava looked around, all of the bookshelves were no taller than her rib cage and the other kids over at the reading nook could easily overhear them.

“Let's go to my office,” Nora said, putting the book away and wheeling the cart down the aisle.

After being seated in one of Nora's comfy chairs, Nora brought Ava a cup of tea and waited for her to start.

“Okay, so I said something to one of my students about introducing them to Ray so they could get a little extra help understanding math. My plan was to have Ray drop by at the end of class if he had some extra time to give her a little extra tutoring, with their parent’s consent, of course, but now that's never going to happen. And just to be clear that was all I said, nothing more, but everyone knows that Ray is one of the special ed teachers. So some of the other children in my class overheard what I said and on the bus ride home yesterday they started teasing this child.”

“Oh that’s terrible,” Nora said, tilting her head. “But that's not your fault.”

“I know!” Ava said, raising her voice a little, but it felt good to talk this through with Nora and get all her emotions out. “So this child goes home in tears and tells the parent that it's my fault because they thought I wanted to have them placed in the special ed classroom, which is something I would never do; it's much more helpful to have the kids stay in their own classrooms with their peers.”

“Um hum,” Nora nodded, having heard both Ray and Ava discuss the benefits of such on multiple occasions.

“So I got a phone call about what happened on the bus and I set up a meeting with the parent through the online appointment system the school has and they came this morning. We all sit down and at first, it goes great. I tell them how I'm handling the bullying and everything's going great until this mother insists that I apologize to their child for what I said. She won't even let me fully explain myself, she just insists that it's all my fault. So I just tried to explain why I wanted them to get some help from Ray, and I pulled up some of the child’s work to try and show the parent that maybe their child should be tested for a learning disability. And the parent just goes off insisting that it's because the child just stressed about math, which I guess is a possibility, but I've been observing this kid for months I think they could really benefit from at least a little one-on-one time with either Ray or Mona.”

“Did you get a chance to explain to the parent about all of this?” Nora asked.

“Oh no, she just got so defensive saying she already had her child tested, but that was years ago, things change, new things come to light. Anyway, I think what I'm going to do is just try and give this kid a little extra one-on-one time during my study hour at the end of the day. I'll just keep observing them and helping them and if things don't improve, I’ll meet with the parent again at parent-teacher conferences in April.”

Ava finally let out a breath and slumped back into her chair. “Thanks for letting me rant a little.”

Nora giggled, “It was more like a lot, but I'm happy to listen.”

“At least none of the kids are getting bulled for being queer,” Ava said taking a sip of her tea for the first time. “I feel like I could handle that, I mean I am a trans woman and a lesbian, I’ve faced my fair share of homophobes.”

Nora giggled, “Yeah I remember that time we were at the department store, buying clothes with Gary and that lady kept flowing us around and whispering, ‘lesbians can’t raise a son.’ in that confused and angry tone and you just spun around and laid into her. I thought she’d die of embarrassment.”

“Yeah, that felt pretty good.” Ava looked up at the clock, realizing that she had fifteen minutes before school started. “I should get going.”

Just then Mona peeked in like she usually did after she had parked her bus to the depot and returned to the school for her shift as Paraeducator. “Hey, I'm glad I caught you both, are we still on for book club tonight after school? Also, the secretary told me to tell you that Sin Lance won’t be in class today. ”

“Thanks Mona,” Ava said. She should have known that Mrs. Lance would pull her out of class that morning, but she was glad that she at least had Sin’s trust back and could help her student further.

She returned to her class after checking on Gary again to find several of her students waiting for her in the hall. They all greeted her with big smiles and happy hellos, and she gave them all hugs or high fives as she let them in the classroom, smiling as they all filtered in and went to their desks. This was why she got into teaching, because she loved watching all these little kids learn and grow, and the joy they admitted whenever they accomplished something, filling her with pride. Apart from being a mom, to her, it was the best job in the world.

……………………………………………………………………

Sara and Sin had rushed home to the apartment to grab their skateboard and head out to the skatepark. By the time they got there, all the high school students had left and they enjoyed the freedom of the empty skatepark. Sara had been riding a skateboard since middle school, and when Sin was three years old she put them on a board and her toddler had taken off. If it was up to them, they would have never gotten off.

After spending the morning going up and down the pipes and riding along the rails they grabbed some lunch at Big Belly Burger, calling Laurel beforehand and agreeing to meet her at Quentin's precinct.

“Papa!” Sin called out the moment they stepped off the elevator, running in between the cops and detectives towards Quentin's office. Most of her dad's coworkers were used to Sin’s antics and just smiled as they ran past them.

Sara followed behind, choosing to walk through the bullpen and leaned up against the door to her Dad’s office.

“Shouldn't you be in school, you rascal?” Quentin playfully asked as he had Sin wrapped up in a bear hug.

“Mom said I could take the day off and we went to the skatepark,” Sin answered as they pulled back.

“Oh did she now?” Quentin asked looking up at Sara. “Hey kiddo.”

“Hi Daddy,” Sara said, walking over and leaning down to give him a hug as well as depositing the bags on his desk.

“Yeah, it's cuz Cassandra and Freydís were mean to me on the bus yesterday,” Sin said quietly, looking down at their hands.

“Oh, I'm sorry to hear that,” he said, he still had his arms around Sin and gave them an extra squeeze.

“We worked it out with their teacher this morning,” Sara said, sitting in one of the chairs across from him. “But they just didn't want to go back yet.”

“Hey, hope I didn't miss much,” Laurel said, appearing in the doorway and dropping her purse and herself into the chair next to Sara.

Sin immediately ran from her place at Quentin’s side to hug Laurel, who gave them a tight squeeze.

“There’s my favorite Niblet,” Laurel said, using the gender-neutral nickname for Nibbling she had started using when Sin came out.

“Auntie Laurel, I'm your only Niblet.”

“Yes, and therefore my favorite,” Laurel said bopping their nose as they both giggled.

“You know ever since I had a kid, I always feel like you guys love them more than me,” Sara said with a pout.

“That's not true,” Quentin insisted.

“Yes it is,” Laurel said, with a sly smile.

“Rude,” Sara replied, waving her finger at Laurel.

“Be nice,” Quentin said, while Sin just giggled. “You know for Christmas I think the only thing I'm going to ask for is for a whole day where my daughters don't fight.”

“That's completely unrealistic,” Sara said.

“Yeah that's not going to happen,” Laurel added, before the two of them burst into laughter.

Quentin and Sin joined in laughing and they all dug into the burgers and fries Sara had brought.

……………………………………………………………………

“I don't want you to go to work tomorrow!” Sin whined as they stood at their desk in their classroom.

Sara took a deep breath, closed her eyes and counted to ten before responding to Sin. This was the argument that they had been having ever since Sara had told her yesterday that they would be opening the bakery and cafe on Saturdays.

“Saturday is our day!” Sin insisted.

Sara opened her eyes and kneeled down so that she was at Sin’s level, putting her hands on their shoulders. “I know. I know you don't want me to go to work. I know you want me to just stay home and hang out with you all day long.”

She poked their stomach trying to get them to giggle while using an exaggerated voice, but Sin didn’t respond as they usually did. Sara tried to keep smiling, but she was at her wits end. They had been fighting all day yesterday, and this morning Sin had dug their heels in and wouldn't let the issue go. Sara thought that driving them to school and dropping them off herself would help so that they could spend some extra time together, but clearly it hadn't worked.

Sara looked around and spotted a glitter jar on one of the shelves. She quickly ran over and grabbed two, brought it back and handed one to Sin. “I know you’re mad, so take all your anger, push it into the jar, and shake it out.”

Sara shook up the jar as hard as she could, watching as Sin did the same. They shook the jars for a few moments and then Sin stopped to watch the glitter in the bottle spin around. After several minutes they looked up at Sara.

“Do you have to go to work Saturday?”

“I do kiddo, and I'll drop you off at Aunt Zari’s around the time you would go to school in the morning, but before I leave we can try to go to the skate park.”

Sin still looked disappointed and their face scrunched up, as they shook the jar again so hard Sara thought it would break.

“Do you know why?” Sara asked, just wishing she could take some of the hurt feelings away.

“No,” Sin said, as they stopped shaking the bottle and continued to gaze into it. Like it held all the answers to their problems.

“Because your aunts and I are not just making pies and cakes, we’re helping the Wedding Fairy,” Sara said in an absolutely serious voice, it was a thing they said around the bakery quite often especially as of late, as it was an epithet for over the top brides and mothers. However to the kids the wedding fairy was very real.

“Really?” Sin asked, looking over at her.

“Yeah,” Sara said with a smile on her. “You see, wedding fairy needs some extra help making some special treats for some special people, her kitchen is just too small to try and do it all this year.”

It was partially true, they were swamped with June and May weddings and all the last minute wedding planners flooding them with orders. With the wedding season rush kicking into gear as spring approached and the bakery and cafe being so popular, they had to add an extra day to their schedule if they wanted to be able to take on the new orders. Amaya hated turning people away, especially if they were cute couples in love. It would only be until spring break and summer, and in an effort to avoid the insane cost of childcare, they were alternating Saturdays so that one of the four of them could watch the kids.

The business had always made just enough money for everyone to live comfortably. Amaya’s hope was that with the extra orders, everyone would be able to splurge that year. Sara agreed to it because she wanted to be able to afford a good summer vacation for Sin. Of course, Sara didn’t tell Sin any of this, as she didn't want them to worry about money.

“The wedding fairy isn't real.”

Sara turned around to see Cassandra Savage standing next to them, but before she could say anything Ms. Sharpe approached them. “Yes she is and I'm sure she's very thankful to have Ms. Lances’ help.”

Cassandra sneered and looked like she was about to say something else but Ms. Sharpe led her away, talking to her on the other side of the room.

“Why can't I help the wedding fairy?” Sin asked, with curiosity rather than disappointment.

“You can! How about tonight you and I work on thank you cards for all of the orders!”

Sin thought it over and nodded. Sara sighed in relief and smiled, then leaned up and kissed Sin’s forehead.

“Have I told you that I love you and that you're the best kid in the world?”

“Yeah, you say that every day,” Sin teased, rolling their eyes.

“Well I mean it every day,” Sara teased her back, then tucked a stray strand of hair behind their ear. “Are you going to be okay today?”

“Yeah,” Sin said, with a somber nod.

“You want me to go or stay a little longer?” Sara asked, her eyebrows knitting together, she couldn’t help but worry, especially when it came to Sin.

Sin looked around before answering, they still had a few minutes before class started and most of the kids were already there milling around. Sara looked around as well and saw Hector wave at them from his desk. They both smiled and waved back.

“You're picking me up today, right?”

“Yep.”

“Okay,” Sin said and then took off their backpack and walked over to talk to Hector.

Sara smiled and watched them for another minute before heading out. She stopped in the doorway, realizing that she was still holding the glitter bottle.

“You can take it if you want to,” Ms. Sharpe said, catching her at the door. “I'm sure Sin would love to have one at home.”

“Thanks,” Sara said.

“I keep the bottles around for situations like this and I'm glad you were able to use them. You handled that really well,” Ms. Sharpe replied.

“Thank you,” Sara said, surprised at her genuine words. The two had been exchanging petty notes and words since their meeting a week before.

Ms. Sharpe gave her a genuine smile before turning back to her classroom. Sara took one last peek at Sin, who was laughing with Hector before leaving. She looked back over at Ms. Sharpe who was talking with one of the other students, maybe Sara had her pegged wrong, maybe she should give the teacher another chance.

5 notes · View notes

hailqiqi · 5 years

Text

Message Received and Misunderstood

Once a promising fighter pilot candidate with the best skin in the Garrison, Lance Serrano is now relegated to languishing in cargo training during the day and locking himself in the library at night, sacrificing his self-care for a pile of textbooks like the nerds he used to make fun of.

He doesn't even bother talking to the other late-night regulars -- the boy with the Rubik's Cube, the girl who chews her pens too loudly, or the Sadako-wannabe who's always the only other person in there at midnight.

Friends will only distract him, and he needs to study.

Rating: G

Chapter One: First Contact

4,622 words | Read on AO3

So here’s my contribution to the @planceminibang! Beta’d by the wonderful @sp4c3-0ddity and with art (Chapter 3!) from the fantastically-talented @artemisarya, here’s a little teenage sweetness that’s a bit different from my normal offerings.

Enjoy!

5TH JANUARY

The rough calculations on the page had long since blurred together by the time his phone blinks for break time, and Lance slumps forward onto the table with a groan.

Twenty minutes. Another twenty minutes that he’s been at this stupid problem, and despite filling both sides of the page up with calculations, he’s still no closer to figuring out if a hafnium carbide vessel would survive the stress of a gravity assist off Saturn or not.

He lifts his head and glares at the paper. Two points were all that had stood between him and making fighter pilot; instead, he’s stuck in cargo training and desperately trying to pull up his grades at night because he needs an extra fifty to make it in off a retest. And despite the lack of sleep and him studying harder than he ever had in his life — even harder than he had for the entrance exams — it’s now half-way through the school year and he’s still staring down a failing grade.

All because of freaking materials science.

Maybe he should just give up. There’s no shame in being a cargo pilot, mijo, his mom had said. Cargo pilots make a steady wage — a good wage, enough to raise a family and have a lot left over. The job wasn’t as boring as it sounded, and there were still opportunities to leave the atmosphere (and while he’d been bottom of fighter, he was top of the cargo class so he’d definitely be given the space runs).

But cargo isn’t what he wants. Maybe he’s being immature, but he wants to swoop and soar and feel the world fall out from underneath him at mach speeds when he jiggles the stick. You can’t do a barrel roll in a cargo ship, even in space.

His phone flashes again and he leans back in his seat, hands over his eyes as he begins to recite the problem again.

“If the hafnium carbide heat shields are two inches thick and have a tensile strength of 14,000 psi at 2,000 degrees…”

It’s way too freaking late for this.

“And Saturn’s gravity is 10.44, and we’re travelling in a prograde direction during the assist and approach from…” This bit he can do. The miss distance, the outgoing velocity, the amount of fuel needed — he’d calculated it so many times now he can rattle the whole thing off by memory, but once he gets past the flight calculations he needs to check his notes to know what happens next. “And then…”

He glances at the paper, checks both sides, and groans again, one hand in his hair. “...And then some random amount of heat is generated and I guess the stupid shuttle explodes and everybody dies, ‘cause I’ll be a flying space cow if I know if it survives or not.”

A snort of laughter from behind makes him jump.

He whips around in his seat, heart in his throat because it’s eleven p.m., who the heck is in the library at this hour?, only to be met by a pair of laughing brown eyes half-hidden behind a curtain of equally brown hair.

Oh, yeah. Her. The only other person crazy enough to be in the library every night, even though he’s fairly sure she’s not studying for the resit since he doesn’t recognise her from any of his classes last year. In all the months they’ve shared a space they’ve barely exchanged a nod, but it looks like that’s about to change because she’s actually speaking to him.

“I’m sorry,” the girl is saying, mirth still flowing in her tone and not looking sorry in the slightest. “That was just really funny.”

Lance rolls his eyes. “I’m glad someone finds it funny.” He begins to turn away but then stops, desperation prodding him to use this opportunity. “You...wouldn’t happen to know the answer, would you?”

The girl looks surprised. “What’s the question? Whether or not the heat shields would survive the gravity assist?” Lance nods, and she blinks. “Well, yeah, of course they would.”

“Uh...Say what?”

“Yes, they’d survive. Zero material stress, actually,” she repeats steadily, her head tilted in confusion.

“Oh… Thanks,” he manages, and she shrugs and turns back to her textbook.

Lance grabs his sheet of paper, fumbling it in his haste to turn it over and go over all the calculations again because she sounds so sure, like it’s an easy question when he’s been at it for almost a freaking hour now with no results.

What did he miss? He must have missed something. Something obvious? Where are his notes on Kepler’s laws?

With five minutes left on the study clock he gives in and turns back to the girl. The Library Sadako, he’d nicknamed her, since her hair is always covering her face and her pyjamas are as shapeless as a ghost’s robes. Plus she had a habit of appearing and disappearing from the library all but soundlessly.

But right now she’s his last hope.

“So, uh… How do you prove it?”

She glances up at him, an irritated frown on her face at the interruption, and Lance realises there are bags under her eyes too. But her tone is neutral when she clarifies, “The material stress question?”

Lance nods, and she puts her pencil down and eyes him curiously. “You don’t need to prove it. Those are the specs for The Obol’s heat shields, and that flight path was the one for the return Saturn assist from the Kerberos mission last year. Remember?”

The ticking of the clock in the corner is suddenly much too loud, and all he can do is stare.

“You don’t need to prove it,” she repeats, exasperation creeping into her tone. “It’s already been proven. That’s one of the general knowledge questions.”

He spins back around, practically snarling in frustration as he digs through his papers to find the mock with the question on it.

When he finally finds it, it’s all he can do not to burn the damn thing. Stupid, stupid, stupid… She’s right, and there’s only two lines for an answer. Nowhere near enough space for the pages of vector diagrams and formulas covering his scrap paper.

And he’d wasted an hour on this. Stupid, stupid, stupid…

Maybe he should just go back to the farm. Veronica wouldn’t have been this dumb. Heck, Keith wouldn’t have been this dumb and the guy wasn’t exactly the brightest in the bunch. Still, Keith’s in fighter class while Lance is languishing in cargo, so if Keith’s stupid what does that make Lance?

Really stupid. Space-level stupid. The stupidest stupid to��

The thud of books hitting the table next to him rips him from his thoughts, and he looks up in surprise to see the girl pulling out the chair next to him, a hesitant smile on her face.

“When I studied for the entrance tests, I always found it easier to focus at night when I had my brother with me, even if we didn’t talk,” she says, one hand on the back of her neck as she sits down. “So, uh, maybe some company will help?”

Without waiting for an answer, she arranges her books, flipping open a notebook and textbook with practiced ease and beginning work on what looks like a flight mechanics question. Lance watches her for a moment, unsure, then sighs and flips to the next question on the paper.

Maybe she’s right. He might as well give it a go, since his solo progress has been nothing to brag about.

It’s almost midnight, anyway.

*****

10TH FEBRUARY

As it turns out, Sadako’s name is Katie, and she’s studying for the same exam he is.

But not because she failed round one, like Lance. She’s two grades below him and looking to skip a year.

Lance can’t help but find it a little bit galling, especially when it’s 11 p.m. and she’s just finished walking him through a Critical Reasoning question for the third time like it’s nothing. The formulas — formulae — are all neatly laid out on the paper, but Lance still doesn’t get it.

“Why are you even here?!” he blurts out, his jaw aching from the frustration. Katie recoils, her mouth hanging open and hurt flashing across her face and — oh — he hadn’t meant for that to sound so harsh.

Especially not when she’d put so much effort into helping him over the last month.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters, taking the pencil from her hand gently and putting it down before running his hand through his hair. “It’s just...none of this seems even a little bit hard for you. Why are you bothering to stay up like this?”

It’s something he’s wondered for a while. Katie’s been the only other person in the library until closing almost every night since fall so he’d always assumed they were in similar places, but now they were actually studying together…

“Oh,” she says, the tension leaving her posture again. Apology accepted, Lance guesses, but her eyes linger on his material science textbook instead of him, and her fingers fiddle with the ends of her long hair as she speaks. “Um, well, mat-sci really isn’t that hard for me. My dad’s...uh, my dad works for the Garrison as an engineer, and he does a lot of R&D and he always talks about his work at home, so…”

Katie taps the book, looking distinctly uncomfortable for some reason. Lance raises an eyebrow. “So if you haven’t been studying this, what have you been studying all this time?”

“Flight manuals,” Katie replies, finally meeting his gaze again, and Lance is relieved to see a spark in her eyes again. “I’ve only flown the droids a few times, and some of the older planes in basic, but the practical is a big part of the class exams and since there’s no way I’m going to get any actual practice, if I at least memorise all the flight manuals and mechanics and everything then I should have a shot.”

“Memorise the flight manuals?!”

“Yeah!” Lance stares at her as she chatters on enthusiastically, seemingly oblivious to how absurd that suggestion is in the first place. “A strong foundation in the theory can never be a replacement for practical experience, but it can be the difference between a weak pass and a fail. Of course I’ve been brushing up on stuff like this as well”—she pats the textbook twice—“because the closer I get to a hundred percent on the other subjects, the less a poor practical score will matter. I’ve tried to code my own simulations too” —you’ve tried to what?!—“but obviously I can’t replicate the physical aspects of the hardware with my laptop. I mean, I’d try a set-up of books and stuff just to get the motions down but then my roommate would probably complain even m—”

Lance bursts out laughing, cutting her ramble off abruptly, and Katie narrows her eyes at him.

“What?”

“Nothing, nothing.” Laughter still threatens to bubble over, but he pushes it down as he explains, “Just...that’s a lot!” His gaze falls to the notes from their study session and the pile of books spread across the desk, and he suddenly realises how he can pay her back a little. “Hey, my prac scores were pretty high, so I can help you out with that stuff if you want?”

A warm, genuine smile spreads across Katie’s face as she looks at him, and Lance realises with a start it’s the first time he’s seen it. It transforms her, turning her from a tired teenager in pyjamas into something his exhausted brain vaguely recognises as the sun.

“Really?!” Her tone is way too vibrant for this hour of night, and her hair swings back and forth as she bobs in her seat. “That would be the best! Thank you!”

Lance beams.

*****

20TH FEBRUARY

Hunk is rambling nervously about his last sim class as students bustle through the hallways when Lance’s phone finally buzzes with a reply.

Mid-terms are in two weeks. Of course I’m coming tonight. Usual time?

He shoots off a thumbs-up and turns back to tune into Hunk’s chatter.

“—and then he broke the whole comms deck and Lance, what if he does that during our mid-terms? Keith already made Iverson angry — and I mean really angry — and oh, if we get marked down on the pracs because of it then I’m really going to need to pull up my avionics and aero science scores if I want to stay in the top ten,” Hunk continues, breathless. “Oh man, I have no idea how I’m going to do that on top of all this other stuff we have to study! I don’t even want to leave the ground, why do I have to learn how to fly the stupid things?!”

Lance glances up from his phone, a smirk already on his lips. “Because you went to flight school, maybe?”

“Ugh, don’t remind me!” Hunk slumps back against the wall and groans. “Hands down the Biggest. Mistake. Of my life.”

Lance’s phone buzzes with a reply. He checks it quickly, excitement filling him when he sees the small thumbs up icon.

“Hey, if you’re worried about your exam scores, why don’t you study with us in the library sometimes?”

Hunk pauses, expression turning devious as he straightens up and turns to face him. “Us? You mean you and your study girlfriend?”

He waggles his eyebrows meaningfully, and Lance rolls his eyes, shoving his phone back into his pocket.

“Katie. And you know she’s not my girlfriend. She’s good to study with, though, and she said you should come.”

“Hm.” Hunk’s expression doesn’t change. If anything, his smirk grows more irritating. “Okay, I’m in. It’s about time I met the elusive Katie, anyway.”

*****

10TH MARCH

The first time Lance sees Katie in daylight is at a diner near campus the week after mid-terms.

“Why don’t you just ask your brother, Pidge?” Hunk asks accusatorially, wielding a fry at the girl across the table rolling her eyes at them. “Can’t he like, just log in and tell me my scores? Given that he’s a famous astronaut and all.”

Katie — Pidge, he has to remember to call her Pidge now because she freaking deserves it after all the lies she told him in the library — grabs the fry from Hunk’s grasp and pops it into her mouth, chewing it deliberately slowly before swallowing and replying with a frown, “You know it doesn’t work like that. And stop calling me Pidge.”

“Aw, but Pidge is such a good nickname. Cute Pidgey-Widgey Pigeon.” Hunk pops another fry into his mouth as Pidge’s expression darkens.

(For someone who spends most of his time worrying, he’s a heck of a lot braver facing certain death than Lance would be.)

“Oh my God, can’t you just drop it?”

“Nope,” he replies, smirk still firmly in place. “It’s your punishment for keeping secrets. Isn’t that right, Lance?”

Lance glances from Hunk to Pidge, then decides that self-preservation is for losers after all.

“Totally.” He quirks an eyebrow, inwardly delighting at how her eyes narrow as they focus on him. “Hey, don’t look at me like that. You’re the one who was all ‘oh, I’m just good at this because my dad’s an engineer’ and totally forgot to mention that he wrote the freaking textbook.”

“Ugh!” Katie slumps forward, all but slamming her forehead on the table. “Look, I’m sorry if I didn’t tell you guys, but people hear the name ‘Holt’ and get weird, okay?”

The last bit comes out as a mumble, and Lance feels a stab of sympathy. The weight of having successful siblings is something he understands well; he can only imagine the pressure of coming from an entire line of Garrison royalty.

Then again… “We’ve been friends for months, Katie,” he points out. “It just sucks that we had to find out because your famous astronaut brother appeared in the library and started calling you ‘Pidge’.”

Katie raises her head, lips pursed in annoyance. “So what, you guys are going to stop using my real name as my penance or something?”

“Exactly,” Hunk says decisively. “Like, I wouldn’t have cared if you’d told us — hey, Matt was pretty cool, and it’s so freaking amazing that your dad is like one of my engineering heroes — but finding it out like that sucked. You should’ve trusted us enough to tell us.” He pauses, then goes for the kill. “I thought we were friends.”

Her face falls, and Lance is vaguely aware that they might have overdone it.

*****

25TH MARCH

The post-Matt interrogation at the diner starts something. Soon, Pidge is joining them for lunch in the canteen every day, and then breakfast, and then before Lance has really processed it their duo has become a trio and it feels weird to think of a time when Pidge wasn’t in their group.

Moments like now, though, remind him.

“Why would he make a fool of himself?”

“Because that,” Hunk answers with a flourish, gesturing at Jenny’s retreating back, “was—”

And Lance suddenly realises that he doesn’t want Pidge to know about this.

He quickly slaps a hand over Hunk’s mouth, ignoring his muffled indignation to smile awkwardly at Pidge. “Y’know what? It doesn’t matter. You don’t need t— armmf!”

Less than two seconds later he’s struggling to breathe, strong muscles wrapped firmly around his head and torso and the pungent smell of Hunk’s armpit filling his nostrils.

“That,” Hunk continues, barely affected by Lance’s struggles for freedom, “was Jenny Shayburn.”

“Who’s Jenny Shayburn?” Pidge asks, and Lance can just imagine her expression: one eyebrow raised with that look that says why must you be like this? as she watches their tussle.

Or, well, Lance would like to call it a tussle. Hunk probably just sees it as an inconvenience.

“Oh, just the love of Lance’s life and his obsession for the last two years. No big deal.”

Lance slumps against Hunk’s chest and groans. Both Pidge and Hunk latch onto gossip with the ferocity of his brother’s old terrier.

“Oh,” she says, her tone flat. “Weird.”

Lance pushes away from Hunk, who releases him without a fight, but he can’t find any relief in his reprieve. Pidge’s fingers grip her cup tightly as she sips, her gaze fixed on the students entering and leaving the canteen, and Lance feels an odd weight settle in his stomach.

What’s he supposed to say to that? A part of him wants to protest that he hasn’t thought about Jenny in ages, but it feels like... What’s that Shakespeare quote? The one about the lady protesting?

That.

Hunk glances between them, a calculating expression on his face as he takes in the tension at the table, then waves at Pidge to get her attention. “So,” he begins, tone sly, “is there anyone you like? Any special boy in our little Pigeon’s life?”

Lance rolls his eyes and tries to look as disinterested as possible, even though a part of him is on tenterhooks waiting for the answer. It’s not a topic they’ve ever broached in their hangouts.

“Sorry, no,” Pidge answers quickly, but she’s avoiding their gaze and the lie is obvious, and Lance suddenly wonders who it is and if he could take him in a fight.

Though it’s not like he cares.

“Aw, c’mon, you can tell us,” Hunk cajoles, nudging Lance far too hard in the chest with his elbow. “Bet you loverboy Lance here can give you some tips for catching his eye.”

“Uh, yeah! Sure!” He runs a hand through his bangs, feigning a confidence he’s not feeling. “Advice. I can totally help ya out.”

He grins and shoots her some fingerguns, adding a wink for good measure. There. That was natural.

The deadpan expression on her face doesn’t change (maybe he’s lost his touch?).

“Thanks, but no thanks,” she replies at length, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. “Look, it’s just a crush and he doesn’t like me back anyway. Can we change the topic now?”

For whatever reason, Hunk obliges, and the weird tension that had hung over the table dissipates fairly quickly as they move on to safer topics. The strange taste in Lance’s mouth lingers, though, and he’s not sure why.

*****

3RD APRIL

Everybody else in the diner is watching and chuckling and Pidge looks like she’s about to die, but really — she should know by now that they take that as encouragement.

“Haaapppy birthday dear Pigeon…” they bellow, Hunk adding an impressive vibrato on the low note. “Haaapppy birthday tooo—” Lance manages to take it up way-too-high there, grinning proudly when Pidge winces from behind her hands— “you!”

They finish with a poor attempt at harmonisation, bodies half-out of the booth with a flourish of jazz hands as the rest of the restaurant bursts into laughter, whoops and applause.

“Oh my God…” Pidge mutters, finally removing her hands from her face as the noise dies down. “Can I blow these stupid things out now?!”

Her tone is deadpan but her cheeks are a bright pink, but the sparkle in her eyes is what really gives her away. She’s pleased, she just thinks she’s too cool to show it.

(Or something. Sometimes Pidge really confuses him.)

After several unsuccessful attempts to blow them out, Pidge plucks the sparklers from her pile of pancakes and rapidly-melting ice cream and dunks them both in Lance’s water before he can stop her. Then she waves the dead sparklers in his direction with narrowed eyes and hisses, “I know the sparklers were your idea.”

“You wound me!!” Lance protests, his hand on his heart as he pretends to swoon. “You should know by now I only have your wellbeing at heart!”

“Nah, she’s not that dumb, buddy,” Hunk adds. Pidge snorts, turning into a full-blown laugh when Lance flops onto the table dramatically at Hunk’s betrayal, getting ice-cream in his hair in the process.

They dig into their pancakes with gusto, discussing their plans for when spring break starts the next day (Lance and Pidge are both heading home — Lance to Cuba to help with the calving and ploughing, Pidge to her family’s house just outside post — while Hunk is staying on at school for the fortnight) and debating the perfect topping combination and whether or not they’d be able to eat them when they finally made their way into space. It’s the most carefree meal Lance has had in a while — the perfect end to a busy term — and it’s enough to make him forget about the gift bag on the seat next to him.

But eventually the plates are cleared and the butterflies come back full-force when Hunk drops his gift on the table with a thud.

“Seriously?!” Pidge exclaims, beaming as she looks between them. “Guys, you didn’t need to!”

“Hey, this one’s just from me! Open it.” He pushes the box towards Pidge, winking surreptitiously at Lance as he adds, “Lance has his own present for you.”

Pidge tears into Hunk’s gift with gusto, her eyes lighting up as she removes what looks like a very small version of the throttle used in the fighter sims. Hunk starts rattling off its specs — he’d picked up an old one and basically reengineered the part with help from his whiz-kid pilot — and Pidge launches into a series of questions, almost all of which fly way over Lance’s head.

He tunes out of the conversation somewhere around the point where they start making plans for Hunk to visit her over the break to help install it, instead choosing to sit back and watch his friends interact. The hair in Katie’s ponytail is swinging all over the place as she does that excited bobbing thing she does, and he can’t help but think that it’s ridiculously cute.

A well-placed elbow rips Lance from his thoughts and he hurriedly grabs the bag and shoves it across the table, almost tipping it over in the process and wincing at how uncool he must look.

He quickly flashes a pose and follows it up with a wink and fingerguns (fingerguns can save any situation. Fact). “Mine’s the best, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Pidge drawls with a smile, but her brow furrows as she accepts the bag and looks inside. “Uh, did you forget your umbrella in here…?”

“Oh! No, no, that’s for you.” Hunk’s shoulders are shaking with laughter beside him, and Lance can feel his cheeks heating up. “Just like, you seem like a practical girl, and an umbrella’s a practical gift!”

The fingerguns come out again, and Pidge rolls her eyes with a laugh as she places the green-and-blue umbrella to the side (really he’d just picked it up so he wasn’t just giving her the other thing, but she didn’t need to know that). “Okay…”

The butterflies return in full force as she opens the bag again and pulls out the slim box, her expression shifting to one of surprise as she recognises it.

“Go on. Open it,” he says, answering the question in her eyes, and he can’t help his lips from pulling up into a smile when she does so and gasps.

“Lance…” She looks from him to the necklace in the box, eyes wide and lips parted, then shakes her head. “Lance, I can’t accept this! It must have cost you a fortune.”

But the way she’s looking at it — at him — lets him know that she really wants to, and that’s enough for the butterflies to finally settle into something warm and soft instead.

“Nah, it wasn’t that much.” Only his whole allowance for the month, but she didn’t need to know that, either. “I just saw it and thought it would suit you. And you only turn sixteen once, right?”

She flashes him a smile and looks back at the necklace, eyes soft as her fingertip traces over the intricate gold and green pendant. He’s telling the truth about thinking it would suit her — he saw it on a trip to the mall and immediately wanted to get it for Pidge, and that was before he’d known her birthday was coming up.

Hunk is nudging him with his elbow, making weird noises that Lance knows translate to ‘See? See? I told you she’d like it’ and Lance feels an urge to laugh because he’d been so stupidly nervous about giving her his gift — even though it’s just a necklace! It’s not like it’s a ring or anything else with some weird hidden meaning.

“Could you help me put it on?”

He stares at Pidge, startled by the shy question. Her cheeks are a bright pink but she’s not looking away and he nods dumbly, rooted to the spot until Hunk all but shoves him out of the booth and towards Pidge’s side.

“I, uh… Sure.”

His fingers barely tremble as he removes the necklace from the proffered box, and then Pidge is leaning forward and flipping her ponytail out of the way and before he really knows what’s going on he’s fastened the clasp and is drawing away from the pale, freckled skin of her neck and back to his side of the booth (which suddenly feels so, so far away), fingertips burning as he takes his seat again.

“Thanks.” Pidge beams at him as she fiddles with the pendant displayed on her chest.

Lance nods dumbly, heart pounding. Her skin was so soft. Are all girls that soft?

He glances from Pidge’s smile to the pendant, finally breaking into a genuine smile himself as one thought crosses his mind.

He was right. It does suit her.

#plance #pidgance #flirtyrobot #lidge #pance #my writing #plance mini bang #high school au #sort of? idk we'll just say that kerberos was a success and the galra don't exist #What If We Were Alone In The Universe #oops now we're getting all Jayden Smith existential #except the galra must exist because keith exists BUT ANYWAY they didn't catch Shiro or the Holts #probably because they looked into the future and realised Pidge is fucking terrifying and they'd better leave her fam alone if they want #the empire to remain intact #ANYWAY #have some teenage angst

60 notes · View notes

daddiesdrarryy · 5 years

Text

Have I Been A Bad Boy, Professor? - A Theodore/Neville fic (no one asked for)

Summary: “Theo…what are you doing here? And what are you wearing?” He asked, Theo was supposed to be going shopping with Pansy and Draco right now, it was in the middle of the afternoon

“I’m here to serve my detention” He leaned over and smiled “Professor”

“Wh-what detention?” Neville asked and Theo stood straight again, he began unbuttoning his robes and let it slipped down on the floor, Neville gaped

Of all the thing Neville have expected, he did not expect this to happen, at all

Word count: 1348

Read here on ao3

Look, I know it’s a rare ship but I love them and I was in the mood for smut, and I was in the mood to write a fic for my babies. Those two are so good together, and underrated as well. Neville is so soft, I know, that's why I want to challenge myself to write a kinky one, it was hard. Personally I love them, Theo being all beautiful and everyone falls for him, but instead he pays attention to the shy boy who always stands behind everyone and cares for his pet or the plants more than anything, who would have thought. Neville would always think how the hell did he manage to have Theo as a boyfriend, but Theo loves him...oh god I love them. No hate to the ship, please

___________________

“Come in” Neville said as soon as he heard knocking on his doors, he stopped grading papers and looked up, what he didn’t expect was the fact that Theo was wearing his Slytherin robes, which still fitted him magically. Theo made his way in and stood in front of Neville’s table, smirking “Theo…what are you doing here? And what are you wearing?” He asked, Theo was supposed to be going shopping with Pansy and Draco right now, it was in the middle of the afternoon

“I’m here to serve my detention” He leaned over and smiled “Professor”

“Wh-what detention?” Neville asked and Theo stood straight again, he began unbuttoning his robes and let it slipped down on the floor, Neville gaped

“Y-you…” He stared at the man in front of him with shock, Theo has always had a slender body, but him wearing a white shirt that was tied up to look like a crop top, and he was obviously wearing a short skirt, the one the girls usually wear “What are you wearing inside?” He swallowed hard, Neville was never the one to do kinky stuff, Theo said he was too soft, but Theo loved that about him. But this…this was a whole another level

“Have I been a bad boy, Professor?” Theo sauntered around the table and stood in front of Neville, he pushed Neville’s legs close together and sat on it, straddling him

“I-…” What was Neville going to say? He has never done this kind of stuff before. Theo leaned in and whispered in his ear

“Would you punish me, Professor?” He said softly and Neville shuddered “Would you fuck me hard on this table until I cry, Professor?”

“I-…yes? No!” He stuttered and gasped when Theo began grinding against him, his hands remained on the arms of the chair, he didn’t dare move.

“Please, Professor, I’d do…anything” Theo said and nibbled on Neville’s ear, licking his earlobe, he shivered “I have been a very, very bad boy”

“Er…” He couldn’t take it anymore, his hands came up to cup Theo’s face and he pulled the man into a kiss, when they kissed, he could smell lavender on him, Theo has a special smell, he didn’t need to use cologne, and Neville loved it, he could taste jasmine tea on the tip of Theo’s tongue, his hands came down to slid up his thighs and under the short skirt, he gasped and pulled away

“You…are you wearing…?” Neville asked, oh Theo was wearing something that was definitely not from him, he could feel the string and the lace and…and he could feel his own hardness every time Theo rubbed it against him

“Fuck me on the table, Professor” He said and stood up, he left Neville’s lap and bent over the table, which was still covered with papers and books, he began pulling his skirt up slowly, revealing the red panties he was wearing, Neville swallowed

“Come on Professor, fuck me until I can’t come anymore” He said and Neville sighed out, he could never resist when he saw Theo’s beautiful arse. Alright, if Theo wanted him to be kinky, he could be kinky…well, he could try “I know you want to”

He pulled the red panties down and grabbed Theo’s pale arse, pulling them apart and to reveal the pink entrance, he swallowed again and chewed on his lips

“Please” Theo begged, and oh his voice was so soft, Neville asked himself, if he couldn’t be brave, how could he be the Head of the Gryffindor house? So he took a deep breath and dived in, he licked around the rim, making his way slowly inside after he had casted wandless spells to clean and lube it. Theo moaned and gripped on the table to steady himself, once he got in, his tongue started swirling around and jabbing it, he knew where Theo’s sweet spot was, so while the man in front of him kept whining, he remained and did his job, to make Theo come.

“Please, fuck me” Theo cried out when Neville pushed a finger inside “No need for fingers, hurry” Neville obeyed, he lined himself up at the loose entrance and pushed in, Theo gasped and pushed the ink bottle down on the ground, spilling it everywhere. But he will not stop, he thrusted faster, hitting the sweet bundle of nerve inside Theo, making him crying out his name

“Aaah please” He begged, Neville bent over and kissed the nape of his neck, he whispered in his ear and pinched Theo’s nipple from under his shirt

“Please what?” He did not think he had just said that

“Fuck me harder, Professor” He cried out, even the table was making squeaking sound, so Neville listened, he thrusted in harder and began stroking Theo as well, the man under him whimpered quietly

“Aah please!”

“Don’t come until I say so” He ordered and Theo whimpered louder, pushing a few pieces of papers down the floor

“Please Professor, let me come” He cried out and called Neville’s name out repeatedly

“Come for me, Theodore” He mumbled and Theo did come, spurting on the floor and on the table while Neville was still ramming inside, he fucked Theo through his orgasm and finally came inside a few thrusts after. He wrapped his arm around Theo’s waist and pulled him along when he sat back on his chair, Theo leaned against him and smiled

“Hey” He began and winced a bit when Neville pulled out

“One question…” Neville replied, well maybe he had more questions than that

“Let me explain” Theo said and turned, kissing Neville on his cheek “I was going shopping with Pansy and Draco, when they told me kinky stories in their bedrooms”

“Really?”

“Yeah, Pansy started it, she role played as a student and came asking Hermione, the Professor, to save her grade, and she would do…anything to make it happen. You know, I didn’t think Hermione would be able to do that…turned out, they both love it” Theo said and changed his position, he straddled Neville’s waist and buried his face in the crook of his boyfriend’s neck

“And what about Draco?”

“Oh I don’t know, they’re probably doing it right now, Draco and I listened to her, the skirts are from her” Theo pointed down to the short skirt he was wearing

“So that’s why” He said and Theo hummed happily

“Yeah, I didn’t think you would…be on board” Theo mumbled “You were always so gentle, I love you for that, but today was…I love it too” He smiled

“I didn’t think I’d be able to do it too…but when I saw…”

“My pretty arse?” Theo looked up and chuckled “I know you love it”

“And I love you, I’d do anything for you, even if it’s kinky”

“I tried so hard not to blurted out and called you my daddy right there and then” He suddenly said and Neville froze

“R-really?”

“Oh honey, you were so hot” Theo smiled “We’ve been together for more than a year and this is the first time you fucked me that hard. And ordering me not to come, I felt hot all over for you”

“Did you like me…like that?” Neville asked quietly

“Yeah sure, I love you being soft more, but it’s no harm to get a quick, hard fuck once in a while, right?” Theo smiled and gasped when he felt a finger circling around his still loose entrance, Neville smiled and leaned to whisper in his ear

“Because I think I like me like that sometimes too” Neville said, thrusting two fingers inside, earning a gasp from Theo

“Oh, you’re wild today” Theo chuckled “And…I think I came a bit on your students’ papers”

“It’s fine” Neville smiled pushed a third finger in as well “We can deal with it later”

Maybe he could be kinky and wild after all…alright maybe once in a while, for the man he loved, he could do anything.

#my writing #theville #theodore nott #neville longbottom #background drarry #background pansmione #draco malfoy #pansy parkinson #hermione granger #harry potter #drarry #pansmione #ficlet #drabble #lemon

80 notes · View notes