#and whatever my teacher (2 of them) need(s) a TA and i know how to work the knitting machines so i said id explain the kitting

[earlyspringtranscendence]

deeeeeep in autistic meltdown mode oh my god everything is happening so much and my new roommate who is a shitty tall skinny white guy who smokes an inordinate amount of weed is listening to horrible dutch rap in his own bedroom in a way where i can still hear it happening and my legs hurt so so so so so much and the painkiller hasnt kicked in yet and oh my god im about to start crying

[goshikitsutomusmommy]

“Incorrect Quotes with Haikyuu Boys„

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5 , Part 6 , Part 7 , Part 8 , Part 9 , Part 10

Synopsis : Different Quotes From Brooklyn-Nine-Nine as Haikyu!! Characters

Genre : Comedy , romance , comfort (??)

Pairing(s) : Goshiki x reader , Shirabu x reader , Aged up!Oikawa x reader

Word Count : 1.26k

Warning(s) : She/her pronouns used , mention of suicide , drowning , pain signs (??)

Masterlist Link : Here

Goshiki : You’re going to ace this test!

[Name] : You think that because you love me, and love has made you dumb.

Goshiki : I disagree, if anything, love has made me smarter. Remember last week when I boiled that egg?

[Name] : That was big. I was really proud of you.

Yamamoto : She doesn’t like me.

[Name] : So she doesn’t like you. It happens. I mean, not to me, but not everyone has my combination of elegance and charm and grace and poise, and then just gif-ability. Some would say “jif,” but then again some people would also say “ant” instead of aunt.

*On the phone with Shirabu*

Shirabu : *Groaning*, This is the last thing I need!

[Name] : Okay, so sorry about all of this, I didn’t mean to cause you trouble!

Shirabu : ...

[Name] : Oh, also one more thing. I love you.

Shirabu : *Unimpressed silence*, ... I love you too, [Name].

Part 1/2

Kita : We have ta reduce energy usage by 15%. That means no more laminatin’, Aran.

Aran : Oh, that’s fine. It’s not the thing that gives me the most pleasure in life. Interactin’ with others... that’s what gets me going.

Kita : Atsumu, Osamu, lose the chocolate fountain.

Atsumu : What are we supposed ta dip our strawberries in? Our nacho cheese fountain? That’s crazy. Unless...

*Osamu grabs a strawberry and dunks it in the cheese fountain*

Osamu : *Eating the strawberry* ... Kita, ya beautiful bastard.

Kita : Get rid of ‘em. And [Name], ya can’t run that space heater 24/7 anymore.

[Name] : Space heater? Excuse me, this is a Fornax Radiant Comfort System, and her name is Jacinta.

Kita : Okay, well Jacinta has ta go.

[Name], to the space heater : He doesn’t mean that, darling.

Kita : Seriously, turn off the space heater.

[Name] : No.

Kita : Do it, now. It’s an order.

[Name] : Yeah, well, you don’t wanna start a battle of the wills with [Surname] [Name] because you will emerge from that battle a broken man. Not to brag, but I was name-checked in my kindergarten teacher’s suicide note.

Kita : Oh, ma god.

Part 2/2

Kita : Thanks for hand-laminatin’, Aran.

Aran : Of course, if ya ask me, savin’ energy is trendin’.

Kita : [Name], did ya shut off yer space heater yet?

[Name] : Space heater?... Doesn’t ring a bell.

Kita : Jacinta...

[Name] : Oh, no. She’s still going strong.

Kita : A will take that thing away from ya by force, if necessary.

*Manager stands up, revealing 1850’s dress*

[Name] : Well, come and get it!

Kita : Seriously? The heater’s underneath yer skirt?

[Name] : Maybe. You can’t prove that.

Kita : Yeah, a can. There’s a cord runnin’ under it, and I think ya may be on fire.

*Smoke starts coming from underneath the dress*

[Name] : Mhmm... so?

Kita : What do ya mean “so”?!

[Name] : I’m not giving Jacinta up.

Kita : Ya are on fire, [Name]. Ya don’t have the upper hand in this situation.

[Name] : I always have the upper hand.

Kita : Not when there’s flames shootin’ outta yer butt!

[Name] : Especially when there’s flames shootin’ outta ma butt!

*Manager and Kita staring each other down whilst the smoke detector starts going off*

Kita : Damn it! *Grabs fire extinguisher and puts the fire out from the skirt*. How the hell did a lose to that one?

Part 1/5

*The Inarizaki VBC getting shut down soon*

[Name] : Rin, you seem pretty happy. Did you not like volleyball?

Suna : I do, I just am devoting my energy to a new project, Sunazon. It’s a one-stop online portal for my legions of followers. Speaking of whom, *Starts filming on phone*, what’s up, Rin-Hive? It’s your boy, Rin. I’m bored at practice, so I’m gonna prank all my teammates.

[Name] : ... That sounds like a bad idea for an already crappy day.

Suna : Fine, man. I won’t do it. *Walks away*, I will do it, so you can count this as my first prank I guess, unofficially.

Part 2/5

Suna : Hey, Aran, want a cup of coffee? They made an extra one on accident.

Aran : Oh, sure. Thank you, *Drinks the cup and immediately spits it out*. Oh, ma god. What is that?!

Suna : Cement! You just drank cement! Guys, check back in to see if he dies. Ugh! *Choking and gestures death hand signals, stopping the video afterwards*. You’re not really gonna die, probably, okay? Just a little honey for the Rin-Hive.

Part 3/5

[Name] : Whoo! We can save the club, this is amazing news! *Drinks out of cup and spits it out*.

Suna : *Filming the whole thing*, ah, you just drank cement~ You just drank cement~

Part 4/5

Suna : Oh, Gin, you look so sad. You know what would cheer you up? A nice bowl of miso soup.

Ginjima : No thanks, Suna. I’m not in the mood.

Osamu : So, Suna, is the soup up for grabs?

Suna : ‘Samu, no. My followers are sick of watching you eat cement.

Part 5/5

Coach Kurosu : We’d like ta thank Suna. Apparently, the community came to our aid. There was a swell of online support orchestrated by an organization called “Suna-Zone.”

Suna : *Poping from behind a counter*, I think you mean Sunazon. I was behind the counter the whole time. Another great Suna Rintaro entrance.

Atsumu : That’s amazin’! What did ya do?!

Suna : I was live streaming whilst all of you were talking about the club. I guess people were moved. They were like, “What can we do to help?” And I said, “Call the school principal.”

[Name] : The Rin-Hive is real!

Atsumu : A can’t believe ya did it. Suna, yer a legend! Ta Inarizaki Volleyball Club!

Inarizaki VBC : Ta Inarizaki Volleyball Club! *All drink juice, then they groan*.

Kita : What is in this?

Suna : *Filming*, You all just drank cement!

[Name] : Guys, guys, guys, check it out. Tendou fell asleep in the supply room, so I put his hand in a bowl of warm water.

Shirabu : Come on. That’s the stupidest prank ever.

[Name] : Uh, no. It’s the smartest; it involves biology. I bet it worked all ready. Let’s go check!

*At the supply room*

[Name] : Tendou, no!

Goshiki : He’s drowning, he’s drowning!

Semi : Save him, man!

*Reon grabs Tendou’s shoulders and forces them to sit up straight*

Tendou : *Gasping air desperately*.

Shirabu : I take it back, [Name]. Great prank.

Coach Nekomata : Please don’t do anything to jeopardize this. Understood?

Nekoma VBC : *Murmurs of acknowledgment*.

Coach Nekomata : Dismissed, *Leaves the room*.

Lev : That’s a big ‘ole bummer!

[Name] : All right, everybody, just relax. We’re still going to have a great time. If there’s one thing I know, it’s how to sneak out to a party without your parents finding out. I used to do it all the time!

Nekoma VBC : *Unimpressed silence*.

[Name] : Well, I did it a few times.

Yaku : Mhmm...

[Name] : Once to go to a Magic : the Gathering tournament. I got stuck in the window like Winnie the Pooh. There, okay? Now you know everything.

Kuroo : Continue.

[Name] : My mom had to pull me back in by my ponytail... All right, let’s party!

*Aged up*

Oikawa : Check whatever this is out! It’s called The Wasp. It’s for dispersing crowds of young people. It emits a sound that you can only hear if you are 25 or younger. *Turns the device on*.

Takeru : *High pitched screaming in agony*.

*[Name] and Oikawa looking at each other confused, following in Takeru’s screams*

Oikawa : I also hate the sound— that I definitely hear!

[Name] : Me too! It’s so high pitched or low pitched. Oh, that was bogus to the extreme.

Oikawa : So bogus and not tubular. My ears are ringing from the pain of being young.

[Name] : Ugh, so not gnarly.

[cheeringyouon]

Six Things I Wish I Knew Before Going Into University/College

1. You don't need to have everything figured out.

You probably just decided what your next step is going to be, whether that is continuing onto university, heading into the job market, or taking a gap year, and it feels like you have to have everything figured out. That's wonderful, but it's important to have an open mind and be accepting of change. Things may not go as you planned, or they will go swimmingly well.

2. Your responsibilities (may) change.

I'm going to preface this by saying that each person has their own individual experience when it comes to responsibilities. I am going to speak very generally here.

Moving on from high school brings on many more unexpected responsibilities, at least in my experience/experiences from friends. Through high school, the focus is generally set on getting through the coursework and maintaining extracurriculars. However, once I hit college, I found myself needing to balance coursework, work, household things (I lived at home and commuted to uni, but there were still expectations), as well as trying to build up experience in whatever field of interest. It IS a lot, and trying to figure out the right work-life balance is key to having a successful college career.

3. Time management is KEY

I think almost anyone who's gone into university can attest to this. Tying back to my previous point, more and more things get added on as you progress through your career as a student/individual. With that, it is important to not lose track of things, and find a proper balance.

I found that one of the main things I struggled with going into uni was time management. I was always able to scrape by last minute in high school with assignments and tests, but realized that was not feasible once I started college. I realized sooner than later that I needed to find a way to keep myself in check.

I found that maintaining a planner as well as having a calendar with important dates was vital for me to keep track of things. I had to-do lists, whiteboards with lists, physical planners, all of the things, and even though it seems like overkill, I needed the visual reminders. I will probably make a separate post just on time management later LOL

4. Find a mentor (upperclassmen/professor/teacher)

I did NOT realize how much I needed this as I started freshman year. I went in kind of just expecting to be able to get by, which I did during my the first semester of freshman year. However, it was a challenge trying to interact with upperclassmen since they all just seemed so unreachable and b u s y. It took my until the end of my freshman year and into the beginning of my sophomore year to finally find people that I felt could give me guidance in both smaller things like class selections or just life advice.

I personally found some of my more approachable TAs to be very helpful, as well as my professors in my smaller classes. If your university offers mentoring programs or similar opportunities, take advantage of those- you may never know what can come out of it!

5. Get involved!

This is something that I found to be difficult as a commuter. Many of my colleges clubs and events were hosted later in the evenings, and I just did not want to spend 2 extra hours on campus after a long day of classes and then have to drive home.

However, I do wish I had taken more advantage of the clubs on campus. There are SO many different ones that cater to a plethora of interests. I feel like I would have had the opportunity to build a community around each of my different interests, and been able to keep up with them. And, if there is not a club that caters to your interest, then start one! I did that with a group of friends, and that was one of the best choices I made. I was able to pursue something that I was truly passionate about, while being able to hang out with a wonderful group of people.

6. Take care of yourself.

College is busy, it's stressful- there's really no sugarcoating it. Through high school, I was never really focused on mental health and trying to make sure that I was not about to combust. However, after finishing three years of college, I can assure you that being able to maintain your mental AND physical wellbeing is extremely important. Not only does it make you feel good, it does impact your performance as a student.

Make time for yourself. Yes, school is important, but so are you. Find room in your schedule for your hobbies- paint something, go on walks, hang out with friends- whatever brings you joy. Make sure you are eating ALL your meals, getting 7-9 hours of sleep (try to, at least), exercising, and taking care of your mental health. It is important, don't forget about that.

I hope this was useful! This is the first of many text posts coming your way, and I thought to start from the very beginning. If you have anything you'd want me to cover specifically, let me know!!

Stay safe everyone <3

~C

graphic is by me! the quality is trash but oh welp :/

[alwaysahiccupandastrid]

This Sarah Everard case is so terrifying for women. But not only am I terrified - I am furious.

⚠️ tw for mentions of r*pe, sexual assault, violence against women, murder etc. ⚠️

She was just walking, including walking by busy roads and not dark alleyways. She was dressed in winter clothes. Even if she HAD walked down a dark alleyway or been wearing something short or “revealing”, she still wasn’t doing anything wrong - she was just walking somewhere.

Her murderer - a police officer named Wayne Couzens - plotted to murder a woman to live out his perverse fantasy. He didn’t plot to kill a specific woman - he knew he would murder a woman, any woman he thought he could abduct, any woman who would be out at night on her own. Sarah was just there.

Not only did he drive miles and hours to kill a woman, not only was he a police officer… he used his badge, police belt, handcuffs and credentials to fake arrest her to get her into his car. If a police officer tells you to go with them, we’re told to not resist, to be obedient or we will be in even more trouble. Even if she HAD done what the MET have just said women should do - “question non uniformed officers!” - it wouldn’t have helped her because he was a police officer. He had the credentials. Why would she run away and resist a police officer? And if women do resist, the police commit violence against them (like at the Clapham Common vigil for Sarah).

He handcuffed her, drove her for hours, then raped and murdered her. This fucking monster strangled her with his fucking police belt. He burnt her body and disposed of her in a pond.

A police officer did this - a fucking police officer, a MET officer, the MET we’re supposed to trust. And you want women to trust them?!!

And I don’t want to hear that “don’t judge the whole profession based on one bad apple”, because guess what? This is not the first time a police officer has harmed a woman. There is misogyny rooted deep in the MET that needs to be addressed. Wayne Couzens was literally nicknamed “The Rapist” by other police officers and had offended in the past by flashing people, and that’s just what we know of - and yet not a single person did anything. The police joked about it. Several officers gave character references supportive of Couzens during the hearings for his sentencing, and female officers told the press that they did not feel as if they could report concerning behaviour by male colleagues.

It’s thought that at LEAST 15 serving or former police officers have killed women in UK since 2009, and HUNDREDS of UK police officers have convictions for crimes, including assault. There are many cases that do not go reported, and so it’s likely the numbers on both counts are actually higher. Why are they still allowed to serve? Why is our government giving them more power and freedom to arrest whoever they please? “It’s not that many” - IT SHOULD NOT BE ANY.

If you can’t see why there’s a huge problem with our police force and why we say “fuck the police”, you’re part of the problem.

And the fear and anger we feel isn’t new - this has been a problem for literally all of our lives.

At 11, I learnt to come home before dark, and if it was dark in the winter on my way home (meaning: every night in winter), I was taught to not go down any dark lanes, and if I was walking the dark lane I had to go down if I got the bus home, I was to walk as fast as I could and to not have earphones in because i wouldn’t hear attackers. Every day from September 2009 to July 2014, coming home from secondary school, I was told to either wait for my dad or grandad to pick me up or to walk down the busiest road that ran near my house and had constant cars on it. I couldn’t take the shortcut down the public footpath on my way home from sixth form college because it was too dark and isolated - I had to go around it and through the village instead, which took more time but was vaguely safer. Since university, I’ve made a point of waiting for the hourly bus that stops just round the corner from my home and on the busiest road, even though I have to wait up to an hour for it usually, because getting the bus that comes every 15 minutes means walking up the dark quiet lane.

At age 13, I learnt not to talk to even very friendly men, even not in broad daylight, even with a female friend, when some old man approached us and started complimenting us, telling us we had “nice smiles” and “I can hook you up with someone who can help you get into acting” and “here’s £10, you go down to the garage down the road and get whatever you girls want”.

At 14, I learnt not to sit in trees in the park by the gate, not even during the day when it’s sunny, when an old man entered the park, took one look at me, and said “you’ve got a nice arse”. I couldn’t prove he had said anything, and I would see him on my way to school sometimes and panic.

At 19, I learnt that I could not trust friendly men online. Apologies to any decent men I have spoken to online - there’s a few who are nice and not weird, I’m not talking about them. I learnt this when a guy I was speaking to on my old blog - who had for weeks just been generally nice and checking in on me - started to send intimate and sexual messages that started with “*hugs you*” and became “*spanks your ass*”, “takes your clothes off”, “f*cks you hard”, just to name a few (and these were the milder ones). When I asked his age, he merely said “older” than me - “more than twice as old as you”, actually. I learnt to not talk to men online, and if I did then I had to set very clear boundaries in a way that wasn’t too obvious - not say it outright but make it clear I am “unavailable”.

I have to carry a rape alarm on my keys, just in case. I could go out to bars if I wanted to, I could have at university when all my peers were - but doing it meant risking the chance of being harmed while intoxicated or on my way home. I have to send my location to my mother if I get any Ubers, if I go out to theatres or cinemas in the evening I have to text my mum to say I’ve arrived safe. I only feel safe out at night if I’m with a man that I trust like my dad or grandad - I got very lucky at Uni because not only did one girl make sure I got home safely at 1 in the morning by calling me a cab, but one boy even stayed with me on another night until my dad arrived to pick me up, because he knew leaving me intoxicated at 2:30 in the morning was dangerous. I have even phoned my grandmother while walking home in the dark because being on the phone to someone means you’re less of a target to an attacker.

Men do not have this experience - or, if they do, it’s nowhere near the fear and worry women feel every day. Women can’t even walk somewhere without being worried of being attacked - we cannot go anywhere without asking ourselves “am I safe?”. Are we wearing the “correct” clothing, so as to not give off the wrong idea? Are we walking down the well lit roads where it’s busy? Are we aware of our surroundings, of every single person nearby? Do I have my keys in my hand, ready to defend myself if I’m attacked? Women are blamed if we are attacked - not men, but women. “She was dressed slutty” “she was passed out drunk” “she was walking down a dark lane” “she was out late”.

When doing safe guarding training at my current TA job, I came across this phrase: “always think it can and will happen”. Just as a teacher or TA should not think “none of my students will be victims of abuse”, women should not for one second believe that they are safe and “it will never happen to me” - every day we have to think of how to prevent our own assault or murder, just in case.

Every time I’m walking home in the dark, I have the fleeting wonder of “what picture(s) of me will they use if I’m attacked or go missing?”. I was not really surprised when I saw that other women said the same thing. Women wonder it so often it’s almost a joke, an absent minded thought. But it’s not a joke - it’s real life for us, every single day.

Sarah Everard is not a one off case. Sabina Nessa, a 28 year old primary school teacher, was murdered on 18th September this year, her body discovered the next day by a dog walker. So far in 2021, 110 women have been murdered in the UK by men (or men are the prime suspects). Only a handful get national attention because at this point, violence and murder against women have become normalised in this country.

I am not only heartbroken for all of these women and their families - I am scared for my own safety; I am scared for the safety of my mother, my grandmother, my aunts. I am scared for the safety of my 20 year old sister, the safety of my 17 and 14 year old cousins, for the safety of my older male cousin’s two daughters who are only 4 and 1. I am scared for the safety of every single girl and woman I have worked with, the safety of every woman I have ever spoken to.

But I am also furious and filled with rage. Women should not be scared to go out or have fun, we should not have to take such precautions or measures that still won’t completely prevent our assaults or murders. I am sick and tired of the victim blaming when a woman is murdered, of the indifference of “oh another woman”, of this being how women are expected to live their lives.

I’m tired of this problem being ignored by our government, tired of no one giving a shit about us or our safety.

[0-marx-0]

What I’ve learned during my first year of college so far:

These are just some things that work for /me/, they’re not for everyone, but feel free to try them

Meal Plan (As a commuter):

Don’t jump for a plan with over 7 cafeteria swipes a week + whatever meal $’s. My roommate got one similar for $1000 (10 swipes a week, $300 meal dollars per semester) and ended up using maybe 4 swipes a week and spent all her $’s on food places on campus within the first month or two.

Your classes are most likely not going to be far enough apart that you’re going to eat x2 a day and /not/ get tired of the school cafeteria food. You’re also not going to be going to classes on weekends, so you really don’t need a lot of swipes per week.

My plan was $200 cheaper and I get 1 meal swipe + $9 every weekday to use on anything— so I usually get a coffee at our school’s Starbucks before class and get food from the school cafeteria after all my classes are done with. Or if I’m not in the mood for coffee, I’ll get something to-go after class from the subway or Japanese place to take home. I’ve even used the $9 to buy school supplies or masks (because I always forgot mine).

Going To Classes: I’m not gonna lie, I didn’t attend most of my classes first semester— BUT, I still got A’s and B’s. I have ADHD so it was just really hard to focus on lectures at 9am and I felt like I was being a distraction or rude if I had an earbud popped in one ear listening to music, since that actually helped me focus. I only skipped classes where the teacher would record the lecture online, or posted their slides, and ones where attendance wasn’t required— which you can find if it is in the syllabus or by messaging your professor. I would use class time to finish more work than I’d be able to in class, especially since 2 of my teachers my first semester straight up told us that what they’re talking about in the lecture won’t matter for the test.

Make a small list of what the syllabus says for each class: My first semester I struggled remembering the different requirements for each class, whether tests were open book, if attendance was required, if we got one exam dropped, etc. Second semester I opened an empty doc and basically summarized the important stuff for each syllabus- that way I wouldn’t have to reread 15 pages to find one thing.

Ex:

Human Anatomy and Physiology-

Attendance not required

Lowest exam replaced with final exam grade

Low-effort emails will be deleted without response

All exams/quizzes open book

Don’t need to raise hand to leave class

Water bottles allowed

Talk to your professors!!!: I cannot stress this enough. If you have a question, email your teacher or TA. Even if you think they’ll say no. Last semester I was writing an argumentative paper on the benefits of the legalization of abortion, and I was struggling to find a peer-reviewed source that was against abortion for the counter-argument.

Lo-and-behold, these weird religious guys that have been invading my campus lately are back. They’re yelling about how us gays are going to hell and shit while I was trying to write my essay. He had a few anti-abortion signs and eventually started rambling about that so I took some pictures of the posters and wrote down the stuff he was saying about it. I asked my teacher if I could use the protest as the counter-argument instead and she actually approved it. I got a 96 on that paper.

Study in the cafeteria: If your campus is chill, they won’t mind you studying in the cafeteria. Just don’t be an asshole and take up an entire table to yourself during lunch rush where there’s barely any tables available, but if the cafeteria is pretty empty- then study in the cafeteria. You can snack on food and stuff while studying, my school’s cafeteria is set up buffet-style- so I’d be able to just get up and get something to eat if I started getting hungry or distracted. The second best place to study is in whatever coffee shop is on or near your campus, I don’t know why but I work better whenever I smell coffee.

Scheduling classes: D o n ‘ t schedule your classes for like 8am, trust me, you’re not gonna go to them. And don’t schedule your classes so far apart, maybe do 30 or 1 hour intervals but nothing more than that if you can help it. Especially as a commuter. One of the worst schedule things my Uni does is that they have the lecture at 8-9:15am and the lab for the /same/ class from 7-9:45pm for some ungodly reason, and I can’t change that. It’s so inconvenient to leave campus and then have to go back later at n i g h t.

Taking Notes: If you have a professor that posts their lecture slides before class, you are lucky. However, this probably means they talk at the speed of light and do this because students have emailed them numerous times asking them *for* the lecture slides and they just decided to post them for everyone before-hand.

For these classes, I usually copy down the lecture slides into my notebook before the lecture- because professors often give extra information during lectures that aren’t on the slides; and it’s hard to copy what’s on the slide before they click to the next one while also listening to what they’re saying.

This is all I can think of right now, but if y’all have any questions feel free to ask

[harryskalechips]

Too bad I’m attracted to you

A/n I know I said this was going to be up in two weeks but believe it or not, I’ve been so excited about this one. I’ve been writing it for three days and it is one of the biggest pieces I’ve worked on. Overall, some references such as places and the school system refer back to Canada because I am Canadian LOL. It’s easier to write about something you’re familiar with so in this case, we’re set in the true north.

word count: 6884 (I told you it’s very big 😉)

Please enjoy and give it a like or something, it means a lot xx

---------

Autumn 

Harry’s POV 

The school bell rings announcing that school was finally in session here at St. Clements High school. The year had just begun with the leaves breezing through the air and the sound of joyous laughter in the streets from children who had just begun school. 

It’s my fifth year teaching here at an all-girls school. During my first year, students and even teachers would constantly hit on me and I would like to say that stopped but it hasn’t. Many of the students may think I don’t hear them whispering or murmuring in the hallways but I do. I definitely do. 

I look up from my phone to see twelfth graders entering my classroom. I lock my iPhone and stand up in front of the board, observing the girls as they chose desks to sit near their friends. I offer a small smile to the girls who greet me and give a slight nod, waiting for the girls to be seated so I can start my introduction. 

“Good morning girls, I’m your English teacher Mr.Styles.” The girls wait silently as I see friends make eye contact with each other, probably communicating with their eyes. “This year, you girls will be graduating so throughout this course, we will be looking at three main ideas.” I roll up the sleeves of my black polo and grab a piece of chalk to write on the chalkboard. “Now, I’m sorry we’re jumping right into the ocean. I promise I will properly introduce myself and let you girls introduce yourself to each other, right after this.”

I face the board and write a list...

1. Format

2. Author’s choices

3. Clarification of ideas

I put the chalk down and rest my hands on my hips, facing the girls. “Okay, so I’m going to explain these points, if you would like too, you can write down what I say but I also have a syllabus for you girls that will be ready at the end of this week.” 

After 30 minutes of explaining the course, I lean on the front of my desk, finally looking at each of the students so I can remember what they look like when I learn their names. “Okay so let’s start the introduction.” I laugh a bit at the idea of introducing myself every year. “Should I start or would someone like to volunteer?” 

“I would!” A girl speaks up. She had natural ginger hair with slight freckles on her face. Just from the way she stood up, I knew she was the student in class who would participate the most. “Hello, I’m Cathy. A random fact about me is I love to watch Netflix. Say any show and I can guarantee I’ve watched it.” The class of 17 girls clapped enthusiastically, supporting one another.

After a couple more turns, and Jazzy was done stating her random fact about being obsessed with Nutella, a girl with light brown hair and pale skin stood up. She smiled sweetly and looked around the classroom before looking at me. I give her a slight nod to continue and she coughs in her sleeve before standing up straighter to continue. 

Now, I never looked at my students and debated whether they are pretty or not but for some reason, when this unfamiliar girl spoke I became way too interested in what she was saying than I have ever been with any students I have taught. 

“Hi um, my name is Adeline. A weird fact about me is I love to eat the chocolate part before eating a KitKat.” Her friends gasp while some called her out for eating the chocolate wrong but I laughed as I crossed my arms and watched her sit back down, shaking her head. 

As class came to a finish, I learned a few interesting facts about these seniors. I learned that a few hated English and loved math, some didn’t appreciate or care much about their education and some of these girls are really hard workers who want the best mark. Of course, I see these types of students every year but it’s nice to know which one these students are in my class so I can predict their course mark for the rest of the year. 

I wait for my next class and repeat my routine. This year I was teaching 12s, 10s, and 9s.

——

Adeline’s POV

“Oh my god. Adel wasn't Mr. Styles so hot in class today? Did you see his back muscles contract when he wiped the board?” Mya leaned against the locker beside me while rolling her eyes in the back of her head. Mr. Styles is definitely going to be her crush this year. Last year, it was Mr.Belmonte and the year before that was Mr. Sanchez. “Don’t give me that look, Adel. If you don’t think Mr. Styles is hot then maybe you’re lesbian!”

“Mya as much as gay people are cooler than you, I’m sadly as straight as a raw spaghetti noodle.” I laugh it off and shut my locker as we walk together to Biology class. 

“He’s our first period for the rest of the year. He’s going to always start the day off. I’m really excited.”

“That’s nice to know. I mean I’m excited about his class too, I really love English I hope he isn't a hard marker.”

As I spoke to Mya, my best friend, I truly began to wonder how I can improve more in English and see if I wanted to pursue it in University. So a month into Mr. Styles's class, I decided to stay after to ask him a question. 

“Hi, Sir. I just have a quick question I was hoping you would be able to help me out with.”  I approach him as he has a pen cap in between his teeth as he marked our commentary assignment from a few days ago. He looks up at me and sits up while focusing all his attention on me. 

“Sure Addy, what’s up?” No one has ever called me addy before. I know it’s surprising but usually, all my friends called me by the nicknames Adel, laine, or what my parents call me, delly. 

“Well, I truly love English but I don’t know if I would want to major in it. I was wondering if you know any opportunities I can try during my free time so I can think about it. I really have a passion for teaching and English but how do I know what to expect?” He genuinely looked really interested as he watched the grade 10’s enter his class.

“You know I’ve seen your work Addy. You have real potential. I don’t know if you would like this idea but I would love to be your mentor and help you with this skill you want to pursue. I know when I was in University being a TA, truly led me to this passion of becoming a teacher.” I nod my head and clench my binders tighter to my chest because it felt weird talking to a teacher for too long.

“If you would like too. I’ve never done this before actually but would you like to be my own assistant? I can ask Mrs. Raisell to verify with her. I think you can help me with marking younger students’ work and work on the outline of my lessons. At the end of this, I can write you a reference letter and give you hours if you need it for a special program.”

“Wow sir, no yeah I would be really honoured. It would mean a lot if I got to work side by side with you.” He smiles and stands up, probably a signal that I should go to my next class because he’s about to teach his. 

“Obviously during your class or anything to do with that class, it will not have to do anything with what you do with me but yeah, I would love to go over things with you to see if this career path is right for you. Let me just start my class and maybe I can get back to you by the end of the week?”

“Perfect. Thank you, sir.” And with our final remarks, I left his class with the biggest smile on my face. 

-

It’s been two months working with Mr. Styles after school. After Mrs.Raisell, my principal, accepted his idea, Mr. Styles and I began working alongside each other. Every Tuesday and Thursday, I would come back to his class after Calculus since it was the end of the day. His last period was a prep period which meant he had a period for himself to mark work and prep his lessons. When I come to his class, usually we focus on whatever he has left to mark. Some late nights, we would drown in a whole deep conversation about life when we get off topic about another conversation.  

“Mr.Styles, I have a few more papers to go through but I was going to uber some dinner, are you hungry?” I ask him as I sit at the desk in front of his very own. 

He looks up at me and stretches his arms. “You know, you’ve been helping me out a lot. How about I buy us some dinner? I know a really tasty Italian bistro a couple blocks from here.”

“Yeah, sure. Let me just text my mom so she knows I’m not at school anymore.” He nods his head and stands up, collecting my work and the papers he has on his desk. He shoves them into his side leather bag and waits for me by his door so he can lock it. 

He turns off the light and we walk together to his car. “Wow, nice car. I’m guessing you’re a bachelor?” He unlocks his car and smirks while putting his bag in the back. He takes my backpack as well and puts it behind the passenger seat. 

“Yeah, bachelor you’re very much correct.” He opens my door and gestures to me to sit inside so he can go to his side of the car and get in. 

“How are you still a bachelor?” I joke as I watch him shift the car into drive. We zoom out of the parking lot and with a few bumps from the speeding bumps, we’re on the main roads. He looks at me and laughs. 

“What do you mean? I’m 25.” He gazes at me while his elbow rests against his door and his hand is on the wheel. His other hand rests on the gear shift. 

“Well, no I just- I know it’s weird to say it but a lot of the girls in our school have a crush on you and not by students. I mean actual teachers. My history teacher was talking about how cute you were today.” His cheeks redden and his eyes widen just a tiny bit.

“Oh, Sandra. Yeah, I had a feeling she liked me. She would always make me coffee when I’m in the staffroom marking.”

“Woah.” I laugh. I can’t believe I’m having such a casual conversation with Mr. Styles. Especially since he’s my teacher. I guess it’s natural for us though since I’ve been with him for two months now. 

“So do your friends know you’re with me after school on some days?” He asks after he parks in the restaurant's lot.

“No actually.” We pause the conversation for a quick minute as we walk out the car together. He holds the door for me as we enter and the waitress directs us to a booth secluded in the corner. 

“How come?” He takes his jacket off and looks at the menu while I flip through the pages quickly, scanning everything on their menu. “My friends would think about weird scenarios of me working with you. I don’t know. I’m scared some of the girls in the class might become jealous about the opportunity you gave me.” He listens to me and watches me while I talk. 

“Oh wow. Yeah, I get why you didn’t tell them.” He closes his menu, probably knowing what he wants. “And to be honest, I’ve never done this before. I wouldn’t offer it to any student. I think after reading your work and your interest in the career. It would be nice to mentor you. Plus, as much as high schoolers are. I’m pretty sure nothing weird will come out of this. Mrs. Raisewell has been checking on us quite frequently to make sure no boundaries are crossed.”

“Yeah, I think that’s good. My parents were really happy you gave me this opportunity too. So once again, thank you.”

The next day went pretty smoothly during the first period. Ever since I started working with Mr. Styles, he would call me out during class in a teasing manner. For example, he would use me as an example when he was teaching us a lesson. He would also ask me to read out loud with the rest of the class. I never gave much thought to it since after school when we were together and I would always tease him too. Like a couple of days ago I called him out for eating things with his tongue out. I guess you can say he and I truly became closer than a regular teacher/student relationship.

“Addy, stay after class today. I need to talk to you.” He comes by my desk and tells me as the rest of the girls began getting ready for class.

The class went by very quickly in my mind as I kept thinking of what Mr. Styles had to talk to me about it. 

“Hey, sir.” I smile softly as I approach his desk. My eyes sparkled a bit as I checked him out briefly. He was wearing light brown khakis and a tight white long sleeve polo. He zooms out of the window he was looking at on his computer and focuses his attention on me. 

“Addy, hey.” He smiles at me and brushes his hand over his hair. “So, my friend from uni is a professor at Windsor university. I was wondering if you would like to come with me and go to the provincial writers’ gala. It’s basically this event where we listen to authors  and composers of different genres.”

“Yeah, I would love to go. Is there a specific dress code?”

“Yeah, it’s formal. Can you write down your address here, I can pick you up and drive you home. It's also in January.”

“How about I call you so I can give you my number and I can get yours too.”

After we exchanged numbers, I went on my way to my next class.

----

Winter

It’s been five months working with Harry. Throughout these past couple of months, We began sharing more about ourselves. We were on first name bases. I was calling him by his first name when we were not in class and he was driving me home from our late nights. Mrs. Raisell was frequently checking upon us as she promised and everything was going well. 

My friends and I had a few fun memories over the winter break. We were at Rachel’s party and we all got drunk. I spent time with my family and my older sister finally brought home a puppy-like she always wanted to. I bought Harry a Nike sweater for Christmas since I remember him telling me a night while we worked that he wanted to invest more in casual wear. Harry, being very nice. He bought me his favourite book when he first started university which was Emma written by Jane Austen. 

Tonight was the gala. After many months of finding the perfect dress, I found it just a week ago. It was this pretty pink long dress that was off the shoulders and with a slit through the leg. As much as I wasn’t Harry’s date, I would be with him all night long. I didn’t want to look like an 18-year-old student of his but more of his actual friend who came out with him tonight. 

“Wow, Adeline.” He smiles at me as I leave my house and step out. He had a single red ombre rose in his hand for me. “You look very pretty tonight. I would think you’re trying to get yourself a boyfriend from the event.”

“I don’t think I’ll be looking for one tonight especially since I have my teacher beside me the whole night.” I tease.

“Hey.” He drags the word out and laughs. “I asked you to be my date so you’re right. No looking for boys tonight.” Oh, so I was his date. I took in his outfit he had his hair nicely gelled as he had just gotten a haircut and he was wearing a classic black suit.

As we made our way into the fancy venue, we sat at a table with people we did not know. There were many people here tonight with cameras everywhere. Throughout dinner, we made small talk with the others and by the time I knew it, we were facing the front of the stage listening to a composer who wrote a one-hit-wonder. I had my second glass of wine tonight, feeling the need to destress. Harry only had one and stopped there.

“Harry,” I whisper in his ear. We were sitting very closely together as we listened to the 4th speaker of the night. He kept an arm around my chair after fidgeting for the past couple of minutes. 

“Yes, Addy.”

“Can we walk out a bit, I’m just feeling really sleepy from listening to them talk.” He nods without another word and helps me stand up. We try to walk out of the hall without causing much attention. He leads me outside into the cold air and leans against the pillar. 

“You okay? I brought you out here, maybe the cold air can wake you up a bit.”

I smile at him because he looks so cute being concerned about me. “Thank you. I really appreciate you bringing me here tonight. I’ve just been exhausted hearing them talk for two hours.” He laughs and stands up straighter. He takes his suit jacket off and hangs it over my body. “Trust me, I was daydreaming in there.” I laugh at his thought. 

“Wow, my teacher daydreams while another one talks too? huh.” I grasp onto his shoulders as I feel myself almost about to fall. 

“Okay, I think it’s time for us to go home. What do you think?”

“No! I’m not drunk I promise.” I smile and pull on his arm to try and get him to stop us from walking to his car. “Please Harry. I really am enjoying this night with you.” 

“Okay fine but can we go inside my car and go somewhere else if we’re done with this event?” I nod my head and with his hand still in mine, he brings us into his car. 

We sat quietly in his car for a couple of minutes. Until he turned his head to look at me. I had my body facing him already as my head rested on the seat’s headrest. I was admiring how good he looks. 

“You tired?” He asks me gently as the warm air blows on my cheeks. “You have those cute lil red cheeks because of the cold weather. I should have told you to bring your jacket tonight.”

“It’s alright.” I smile. “Thank you for tonight. I know it’s weird having your student as your date but you truly made my night. People may think how weird we are because of how close we are but I just wanted to let you know that I appreciate everything you have done for me. You believe in me and only want the best for me.”  He smiles and mimics my exact position. 

“Adeline, I can definitely say out of all my years teaching. I have never gotten close to a student before like this. I don’t regret anything with you. First time I saw you, you were just a pretty girl and a smooth voice but now I know how funny you think you are, how passionate you are, and just how genuinely smart you can be.” and without another thought process in my mind, I kiss him because I’ve always wanted to. The moment I saw him in the halls last year, my heart truly did skip a beat and it hasn’t stopped since. He pulls away from me as quickly as my lips touch his. He looked into my eyes for a couple of seconds and I was about to apologize for being so rash except he pulled me in again with his hand on my cheeks. His lips were full and soft. His lips were on mine and they fit so perfectly that I had no other thought except the feeling of his soft palm on my face. We kissed for a couple of minutes and by the time I knew it, he was driving me home with his hand placed in my lap as I played with his rings. 

He stops in front of my house as all the lights are turned off, meaning my parents went to bed as did my sister. 

“Thank you, Harry. You know I had a great night.” He pulls his hand away from me and turns off the radio.

“Addy, about what happened in the parking lot. I’m sorry I kissed you. The moment was just very overwhelming.” He looks at the wheel in front of him. 

“I don’t regret it, Harry. Do you?” My heart beats fast, scared of the rejection that is seeping through his soft lovable lips.

“Yes. I promised you and I that I would not let us cross boundaries.” I look out into the deep night, seeing my street completely empty because it’s 1 in the morning. 

“We crossed boundaries the moment I started calling you by your first name, Harry. Why did you kiss me anyways? Maybe, it is inappropriate having your student as your date. Why did you ask me?” I feel so vulnerable after being rejected by him. I feel so embarrassed that the 18-year-old student he thought wouldn’t throw herself at him, actually did.

“Adeline.” He looks at me as I look away, getting ready to leave his car. 

“Thank you for this opportunity, Mr. Styles but I think it’s my time I take a step back and focus on a different career since this one does not seem right for me.”  I leave his car without another word and run up my driveway, crying. All I wanted to do was hide in my sheets.

After this night, I didn’t go to Harry’s class for three days. The first day, I stayed home but the other two days, I came to school after the first period was over. 

“Addy, oh my God. Why aren’t you at homeroom anymore?” Mya spots me locking my locker. “Mr. Styles has been in such a bad mood ever since the beginning of this week. He yelled at us because we didn’t understand a layout he taught us not even 15 minutes prior.” I let my hair fall behind my uniform and carry my binders to my chest. Mya was frustrated, rolling her eyes at the thought of our English teacher. 

“I don’t know, I keep waking up late,” I answered very shortly. 

“I’m starting not to like him anymore. He’s been such an ass! As much as he’s really hot, I can’t deal with him.” We turn the corner and I spot Harry coming out of the English department office with papers in his hand. He looks at me quickly then keeps his head straight to continue walking back to his class. Ouch.

“Okay.” I murmur in response to Mya, after seeing him again. 

~

“Hi, Ms. Olsen, is it okay if I pull Adeline out of your class for a quick minute?” Mr. Styles appears at the door of my history class. Ms. Olsen smiles sweetly and agrees. All the girls in my class look at each other while I stand up from my seat and meet him outside the hallway. They probably thought I was in trouble for skipping his class for the past few days

“Yes, Mr. Styles?” I reply with a cold tone laced in my voice. He was wearing a grey collar t-shirt today with black slacks. 

“Have you been purposely avoiding me, Adeline.” He asks seriously as he whispers.

“No, It’s been a coincidence. I have not been feeling well and I’ve been waking up late.” Not true. 

“See me in my class after school like usual.” and with that, he opens my classroom door, gesturing me to go inside. As I walked past him, his scent clung to my nose and I have missed it. 

~

As I entered his classroom, his class was empty. He was resting against the classroom’s bookshelf reading over a book. I close the door and approach him, with my bag being held by only one of my shoulders. 

“Mr. Styles, You wanted to see me.” He puts his book back into a spot on his bookshelf, my eyes catching the book of his favourite that he gave me last Christmas. 

“Addy, you have to understand why I regret our kiss.”

“I do.”

“No you do not,” He moves to his desk and sits on it, he brings me closer to him so I stand almost in between his legs. “I love my job a lot. I’ve always been attracted to you the moment you stepped in my class but my aim was to never seduce you or take advantage of you.”

“I’m eighteen. I-”

“Baby, don’t talk while I’m speaking.” baby. He just called me baby. “ I know you’re eighteen but you’re still my student. I know the age gap is 7 years but that’s not the point. I wasn’t supposed to act on my feelings, all I ever wanted to do was help you. So, I just want to tell you, I’m sorry because of what happened and I’m sorry I’ve hurt you. You deserve a whole lot better than I because as much as you’ve interested me out of all the girls I’ve ever known, I can’t give you what you want.”

“I really like you, Harry.” I walk into him, trying to be comforted. 

“I really like you too, Addy. I haven’t been in a relationship for eight years but for some reason the more I got to know you, the more I wanted you to be my girlfriend.”

“Take me home please,” I whisper into the crook of his neck as he wraps his arms around me. “Take me to your home.”

I walk into one of my neighbourhoods near my school, where Harry would pick me up. I spotted his car just ahead of me so I ran and opened the door to the vehicle that I’ve grown so familiar with. The moment I’m inside, I place my hand on his jaw while he grasps onto my hip to kiss me. His kiss felt so more affectionate as his thumbs rubbed circles on my hips. He kisses down my neck and onto my collar bone, sure to leave a hickey while I pull onto his hair. 

“Okay Addy, let’s go home.” 

His home was a small townhouse 40 minutes from school. It was very beautiful though and very well decorated. His living room had bookshelves everywhere filled from top to bottom. 

“Would you like anything to drink?” 

“No, I’m okay. Can we watch a movie and cuddle though.” 

Spring

“Hey, how are you?” Harry smiles at me as I enter his classroom. It’s May now, so his windows are open so fresh air can breeze through the room. 

“I’m good, what about you?” I approach him and give him a quick peck on the cheek. “I bought you some cookies from the cafeteria.” He smiles at me and kisses me on the forehead as he hugs me. 

“Thanks, baby.”  He sets up our usual set when I help him with marking. Usually, we act professionally at school, maybe a little cuddling occasionally. We try to finish early though so we can make it to his house so we can spend actual time together. “Does it still hurt?” He rubs my leg.

 A couple of months ago, I had sex for the very time and it was with him. He was very gentle with me and I spent a whole night at his place. In the morning, we had sex over and over again until going somewhere a bit out of town for some breakfast. Last night though, we had it pretty rough that this morning, while I was walking to his desk during class to ask him about a literary device, he smirked at me while I tried not to limp in front of everyone. 

“Yeah, as you care.” I roll my eyes at him and take out my 5th red pen since October. 

“I do baby but it’s nice to know that you’ve physically been dick down by me huh.” He sits in his chair and opens the bag full of cookies and taking a bite.

“No one knows you’re dicking me down except for us.” I bite on my pen and laugh.

“I think that’s what makes it hotter.” He offers me a cookie but I shake my head. 

“I’m graduating soon,” I smirk. He nods and swallows what he’s chewing.”

“University of Toronto Addy, I’m happy you’re pursuing English.”

“Thanks, daddy.” I joke with him as he raises his eyebrow. “I’m sorry I know the rules.”

“Yeah, don’t try and make me fuck you right here on my desk.”

“But maybe you should.” I blurted out loud. “I mean I’m graduating soon and I want you too.” I bite my lip and put down my pen. Without a word, he takes the papers and put them on the desk Jazzy sits in near the front. He pulls me out of my chair and onto his desk. 

“You want me to bend you over in the class where you sit every morning, talking to your friends.” I nod my head. He pulls off my grey blazer that is part of my uniform and throws it on the floor. He walks over to the door and locks it. He goes to the window and shuts each of them tight and closing the blinds. He stands in front of me again and unties his tie, then rolling it up. “Guess, where I’m putting my tie today baby?” He holds onto my hips so he can rub his growing self on me.

“In my mouth?” He smirks and whispers in my ear, a quiet no. He unrolls it and wraps it around my head so I can’t see. His fingers slowly take off my panties and he rolls them into a ball with a small murmur of him saying open, which I do. He shoves them in my mouth and pushes me more onto the desk. He pulls my skirt down and unbuttons my white polo shirt. He takes it off leaving me bare. “Not wearing a bra, I see.” 

He places his mouth onto my wet center and I moan. He wraps his hands around my inner thighs spreading them open, as I grip onto his hair. He leaps his tongue on my clit a couple of times, sucking onto it making my hips press onto his face. His growing facial hair tickling me. He takes my hands and adjusts them behind my back as he uses his other hand to take off his pants and boxers. From the way, he started rubbing his dick on me, I could tell his pants were probably down to his knees. He makes me stand up and he turns me over, pressing my tits to his cold wooden desk. As I moan, he inserts himself into me very quickly as I cry because of how good it feels. The frustration and the lust running in my veins making my heart want to burst. He keeps his hand holding onto mine as his other one gathers my hair into a makeshift ponytail. He bends down and starts kissing me, whispering the dirtiest things that always get me going. 

“You like that you little slut?” “You feel me deep in there baby?” “You’re doing so well for me, I love how tight you are, always trying to make daddy feel good.” 

By the time I knew it, he comes in me and stays for a little while, trying to catch his breath. He unties his tie around me and the first thing I see when I open my eyes are his clear beautiful green eyes. He carries me on top of his desk after wiping me off and putting my blazer on me. He fixes himself up first then helps me get dressed. He then carries me to sit on his lap in his chair as we nap for a bit. 

I think I’m in love with him.

Summer

“Okay girls, You’ve done so well this semester. You’ve had your fun time at prom but next week you girls are graduating. Thank you for trying hard in my course, I really wish the best for each and one of you because I solely believe that women are our future.” He smiles as we come to our last class of the year. I truly am going to miss Harry as my teacher. Of course, I’m going to miss how he gave me special extensions on assignments and his extra help on my work but what I really am going to miss is his presence. I’ve seen him every day for the past 9 months. I also can’t ignore the fact I’m so in love with him. 

He makes eye contact with me and smiles wider. He makes a fish face at me for a second and I blush to return one back. He then proceeds with his conclusion of the course and what we can expect in university. This is the room where I fell in love with him and it will also be the room where I leave him as I set my pathway in University. Of course, I’ll still see him every day since the apartment my parents bought me is close to campus and his place but it’s different because we won’t be at school anymore. 

... 

The day arrived and here we are at my graduation. After the long ceremony, My friends and I all took our pictures. I took some pictures with Mya and her family and with my family as well. After Harry was done having pictures with girls from my English class, he approached me. He greeted my parents, which they responded enthusiastically, knowing he and I are very close. They always teased me about having a crush on my teacher, what they don’t know is that I’ve been dating him for 5 months. My sister knew though, I needed someone to cover me up.

 “Hello, Ms. Chastain. I was wondering if I could take a picture with my favourite student?” I roll my eyes and ask my sister, Marla to take a picture of us. He wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me close as we smiled widely together. We also took some selfies on my phone with kisses to each other when we were more separated from the rest of the big crowd. “Will you come to my house tomorrow night, for your celebratory dinner?” I squint my nose and pretend to act all iffy. 

“I don’t know Mr. Styles. Don’t you think it’s weird that a student will come to your house for dinner?” He pulls my hair a bit and pokes my hip.

“Shut up.” He laughs as his eyes crinkle. “Come to my car with me.” I walk with him to his car and I lean a bit on his hood as I watch him take something out of his car. He pulls out a huge bouquet of red roses and a teal bag from tiffany and co. The parking lot was empty because either everyone was in the hall or have already left. He hands me the gifts and kisses me on the lips. “Congratulations my baby. I’m so proud of you. 

He helps me take out the necklace from the bag. It was this beautiful diamond on this thin chain that rested perfectly in between my collar bones. Underneath the pendant, the letter H&A was engraved. I kiss him one more time, knowing tomorrow will be the day I tell him that I love him. 

~

“Wow, I can definitely smell the storm you’re cooking up in here.” I smile as I enter his house. I was wearing a nice blouse and white jeans with his necklace. He was wearing his casual attire, that I’ve grown to see more often as he bought more while we were dating. He was wearing this I heart new york knit sweater and tight black jeans. 

“Just for you, Love.” He helps me sit at his dining table as he sits in front of me. The dinner went overall really well, as we spoke about his experience in University not long ago. By the time, we were finished we were cuddling on his couch watching the fireplace tonight. “Isn’t it crazy how I’ve known you since September and you were my student? I just never really thought I would go for a student.” I rub my foot against his leg and snuggle more into his chest. 

“I never thought I would date the hottest teacher at my school nor get dick downed by him.” He pokes my hip and I cuddle more into him trying to hide. “Harry, I have something to tell you.”

“Yes, my beautiful girlfriend. What would you like to tell me, Baby.” He combs my hair out of my face.

“I love you.” He stays silent for a bit as the crackling of the wood became louder in my ears, I was trying so hard to distract myself from hearing my heartbeat. 

“Thank you.” I sit up a bit to see his reaction. He didn’t seem pleased that I love him.

“Are you not happy?” I pout and sit up so we can talk. “I don’t expect you to say it back but you just don’t look like you want me to love you.”

“Baby, it’s not like that. I just-, I don’t know. You knew we weren’t going to last long. Why did you have to develop such strong feelings?”

“I’m sorry Harry, what? My fault?” I stand up, getting off his couch.

“No, it’s not your fault. I’m trying to say, do you really think we’re going to last while you’re in university? It’s difficult Addy, I don’t want to pressure you into this relationship that seriously yet.” 

“You didn’t have a problem bending me over in your class the other month ago.”

“Adeline. Listen to me. You’re my girlfriend and I feel deeply for you, a lot but I don’t want to take that step yet when you’re just about to enter University.”

“Harry, I can love you whenever I want to.”

“You don’t understand. You went to an all-girls school, now you’re going to a university filled with thousands of men. I’m not saying you’re going to cheat on me but that’s just another example of how different this environment is. What if you do start falling in love with another guy? You’re going to leave me and I’m just going to be heartbroken.  I just-, what you said to me means everything to me and I don’t think you’re really committed enough to say that to me right now.”

“Fuck you, Harry.” I grab my purse, getting ready to leave. 

“Addy, don’t leave we need to talk about this.” He holds onto my arm.

“No Harry, I’m not dealing with your bullshit. It’s not me who is not committed enough to say those words it’s you! You’re not committed enough to admit it. You can’t genuinely believe that you can fall in love with one of your students. Just fuck you, Harry. I’m leaving.” “Adeline.”

“I’m giving you five seconds to tell me why you can’t accept me saying I love you right now, Harry or else I am gone for good.” I cry as he watches me. As I begin to count down, his hands on my waist tighten. “5...4...3...2...1” and with that, I take his hands off me. “It’s not that I’m mad that you can’t love me or anything. I’m just disappointed in you because you’re the first man I have ever loved and you rejected the love that I offered you. I trusted you so much this past year and you threw my feelings back at me.”

“Don’t...leave me, Adeline.” He whispers as he grips onto his hair.

“I’m sorry.” As I walk out his door, I hear him smash things to the ground but he doubted if we were still going to be together next year, I guess he doesn’t...anymore.

[onestowatch]

Your Grandparents Manifest a Cinematic, Soulful Debut Album With ‘Thru My Window’  [Q&A]

Photo: Jordan Perez

Inspired by everything from ‘90s boom bap artists like Digable Planets and the Pharcyde to modern funk legends like Outkast and D'Angelo, Your Grandparents have quickly proven themselves to be their generations' torchbearers for the psychedelic soul movement. 

Using a variety of recording techniques to get the desired effect for their genre-blending debut album Thru My Window, the group credits their uniquely cohesive sound to their years-long friendship, which began in their early teens. With their lush grooves, breezy, clear vocals, a sonic aesthetic built on unwavering authenticity, and of course, a deep love for their roots and deep musical traditions passed down from their grandparents, Your Grandparents embodies what it means to be an artist to watch.

Ones To Watch had a chance to talk with the trio, comprised of DaCosta (vocals), Jean Carter (vocals), and Cole, aka ghettoblasterman (producer), to discuss their inspirations and the long days and nights that went into creating their debut album.

When you last spoke to Ones To Watch, it was for the release of your single "So Damn Fly," and now, a year later, here we are talking about the release of your debut album, Thru My Window. How are you all feeling, and what have you learned about yourselves in this last year through the album-making process?

DaCosta: From a personal outlook, I've learned that making music is heavily dependent on my mood, or just how I'm feeling and what's going on in my personal life. When things are a little too stagnant, it's a little harder to write. On the other hand, when things are flowing, and life is being lived, it's easy fuel. It's good fuel. It doesn't burn too quickly.

GBM: I've learned that no idea is too wild. It's usually less wild than I think it is.

Jean: Yeah, it's better to start at the extreme and take away. I realized I feel like a lot of artists feel like they have to put themselves through turmoil or allow certain situations to write meaningful things. Like it's not necessarily good music, but it's something that means a lot to them. I think I realized that that's not the case and inspiration comes in many different forms. It could be a person or something completely random and inanimate that makes you feel something.

What were some of those inspirations?

Jean: Definitely films.

GBM: A lot of films!

Jean: Yeah, we're all pretty big film people. We do all our own videos pretty much, and it just comes from this love of film that we've had that got nurtured in high school. We were blessed enough to have a really dope film program that Sony funded and stuff, and so we got like an impromptu film education before we graduated. So by the time we graduated, we knew how to get our own projects done without reaching out to someone else and then taxing us because they want to hire their friends and all that stuff. So because of that, we had complete creative control. I've also been watching a lot of Korean movies lately. Not during the album—wait, actually, during the album, there were a lot of old kung fu movies and blaxploitation movies from, like, the ‘70s. Also, my friend got me this Curtis Mayfield record, and "So Damn Fly" is definitely heavily influenced by that whole record.

GBM: I feel like the ‘70s in general, the ‘60s and ‘70s, definitely had a big inspiration on the aesthetic and the kind of sound we were going after. Especially with "So Damn Fly" and "Tomorrow" and those kinds of songs.

Do you feel like this album has a linear story the same way a film does, or do you feel like it's more of an anthology of the band's personal experiences?

GBM: It's kind of a mix of both.

Jean: Yeah, it started off as an anthology, and then we pieced together the story, which was largely done by Cole by sitting there and being like, “Hmmm.”

DaCosta: Yeah, it was a lot of Cole dissecting the words and putting them on the tracks.

Jean: When we're writing the words and trying to be free-flowing and expressive and stuff, we're not fully conscious of a bigger picture situation. Instead, Cole is sitting there producing everything and putting in the music and being just more of a listener than anyone else could. So he has the context, and he could find a story that we didn't know we were doing together with our three minds and in our three different lives.

GBM: It's like a puzzle almost, because I'll be sitting there at like 2 a.m. in my bed, listening to the songs, and I'm like, "Ok, Kyle said, that in the hook, so this song has to go before that," and so on and so forth. It's like a storyboard kinda.

Right, to keep the record's "plot" cohesive and self-referential.

GBM: Another big consideration was playlists. I love making playlists, and I know Kyle loves making playlists, too, so it needed to flow. It just has to flow. We didn't want songs that juxtapose each other or have opposite vibes be back to back.

DaCosta: Yeah, I think we even switched around the playlist a couple of times before we had it set in stone.

GBM: There were like fourteen songs originally, and then we got talked down to ten.

Jean: Fourteen tracks woulda went crazy!

I'm sure fans would love a deluxe version of the album at some point! So what were some of the rough draft ideas before you set these ten tracks in stone?

Jean: There were more modern-sounding tracks. The more time we spent on a project, and this being our debut, we wanted to be true to the name. We wanted to be true to the artistry that had gotten us to this point.

DaCosta: There were a couple of heavier hip-hop tracks there too.

Jean: We had been doing that, and a lot of people haven't even heard those because they're like heavy hip-hop stuff from when we were in high school and like early college.

Were there any tracks on the record that challenged you?

Jean: "Intoxicated" challenged me. I had a whole different verse. The conception of that song—I was just venting about whatever I was going through at the time, and one of my homies was like, "It's not sexy enough!" So I was just like, "What? No! I've done sexy stuff on all the other songs. Just let me vent!" So I tried another verse, and we ended up going with that one instead.

DaCosta: I mean, it worked out great though...

Jean: I mean, yeah, it sits nicely on the song, and now I have a verse for something else one day when it's time for it.

GBM: Yeah, that song went from being all of ours and everyone on our team's favorite song to our least favorite song. I will say that recording the instruments for the album was fun, but there were definitely some long hours. We had a drummer and bassist come through, and they played for like twelve hours straight doing all the songs. So the songs that have live drums on them were all done in that one day, and they even did songs we recorded that didn't make it on the final record. I think we started at 1 p.m. and we ended at 1 a.m. It was crazy.

What song are you most excited for people to hear when the album drops?

Jean: I think people are gonna like "Comfortable" a lot. Honestly, I haven't listened to the record in a while because it's existed in our world for a minute. We had just posted the visuals for that song today, and I was feelin it.

DaCosta: I think people are gonna really like "Digest." For me, it gives me that "it" factor.

GBM: I think "Red Room." It's my personal favorite and one of the more fun ones to me. It's just a good time!

You mentioned earlier that you try to maintain creative control when making your music videos and coming up with concepts for visualizers. What is your creative process like?

DaCosta: We definitely sit down, and we go through everything from storyboard to shotlist and just take and grab inspiration from all over the place. For "So Damn Fly," there was that That 70's Show shot where they're all sitting around the table, and it's spinning. So there are all types of really cool influences, and we just try to use those and make everything unique to us.

GBM: I think we kind of go through a three-step verification. The idea has to go through all three of us before it becomes something else or moves on to actually being tested out or put into picture. So that kind of attributes to the very solid identity we aim for.

It sounds like that impromptu film education you mentioned earlier has really set you up for success in creating your videos.

Jean: Yeah. My high school film teacher, Miss Butler, I took that class for two years, and then when I couldn't take it anymore, I became a TA. So then I took the after-school class, and I just spent hella hours pretty much ruining the way I enjoyed cinema and teaching myself like—she would have us look and watch these classic movies and be like, this is what they did wrong.

Can you give me an example of a classic film you would watch and critique?

Jean: The first one that comes to mind is Rear Window. I watched it a few times, just because I had taken the class a couple of times. She talked about how the set that they made and the world that they created, they had full control over. Just seeing older films and how simple things were a lot more complicated then. Like you can't just delete a take and wipe your card. Everything had to be so planned out and so intentional. You gotta do shit on purpose. It's just a lot of thinking and planning, and sometimes, I feel like it's more challenging to have more people involved in a film production sometimes because of the growing degrees of communication. With the small groups that we usually keep, everyone's on the same page as us. All of us took this same class, so we all have a similar workflow.

DaCosta: Yeah, our organization when it comes to films, we're all pretty much on the same page. You know, with what was going to happen, who's doing what, who's in charge of what, etc.

Jean: And pre-production is the biggest thing and finding the right team because we can't shoot it and be in it. Although Cole can somehow!

GBM: I'm in one scene, and I'm like, "I'm just gonna kill this scene right now, and then I'm gonna jump back." That's why I'm only in the last scene.

Because he's doing everything else!

Jean: Yeah! Then as soon as the scene cuts, it's like, I go back to directing people, and Kyle goes back to making sure we got the next shot set up.

GBM: There were only seven people on set.

DaCosta: And four out of seven were crew members

GBM: Yeah, the DP was the only person that wasn't actually a casted character. Everybody else is like multitasking.

You'll be making your first-ever festival appearance at Day N Vegas in November. How are y'all feeling about it? 

GBM: It feels incredible!

DaCosta: I'm so so excited!

Jean: If I get excited, I get nervous. So I just aim to be focused, or I don't think about it at all.

After the release of Thru My Window, what are some long-term or short-term goals y'all are manifesting?

Jean: I think for the next album, I want it to get Best Rap Album. We went R&B on this one, but nobody knows the way that we—like yes, we rap on it, but nobody knows our actual rap potential. So I feel like that's something that needs to be lived out on the next project. It's been a minute since we were rapping, bro. There are cool people out here doing the rap thing right now, but not many people have impressed me.

GBM: I kind of want this album to open up the door to doing a lot of travel. When we got back from Paris in 2019, what we experienced during that summer gave us fuel to start this project. So I feel like if we just keep that kind of like tradition going, we just travel somewhere and just make stuff, I think it'll never get steered wrong.

DaCosta: I think I want the album to just open up doors in general. I know it's kind of a broad thing, but like, we're so diverse, and between the three of us, we can do literally anything I think in the world if we put our minds to it, and we kind of plan on doing everything that we want to do. So, I kind of want this album to open the door just so that we can you can start striding towards whatever, whether it's directing movies and videos and fucking scoring—

Jean: Or directing other people's videos!

DaCosta: Yeah, all types of shit.

Thru My Window is available everywhere you can stream it. 

[imagines-to-quench-thirst]

Prima ballerina and her Vicious Viking: Ivar the boneless

I have seen a lot of Youtube clips so I don't know much of the show so sorry if I missed some names.

Warning: some grammatical mistakes and misspelled names

Still living in a house with no internet so this piece was made in a cafe with the internet where I sat for a good half an hour sorry if it wasn't the best.

Enjoy!

And then I dance on the tops of my toes with the rhythmic music following my lead.' The soft giggles at the end of the sentence gave the man beside the girl much room to think.

'How do you mean that the music follows you? Music is invisible. I don't understand.' 'That's a term of saying. For example when you are dancing-' 'I do not dance.' Y/n looks at him again hitting her head in the realization that she forgot.

'Sorry.' the ruthless man chuckles nudging her shoulder with his. 'I like it when you get sad like this and apologetic. It's very much... Sweet.' Ivar smiled at his lover leaning towards her soft and cold lips kissing them to give her little of his own warmth. She reciprocates his action pushing against lips letting the bystanders pass them with shock in their eyes seeing a young fair maiden kissing him. As if she felt the wave of unpleased she moves back whispering 'I wish you could see it.'

Ivar nods in agreement answering in the same tone 'As well, I could only imagine how graceful you look.' Y/n steps up from the small chair holding her hand out to Ivar as he grabs his crutch walking long side her holding her hand delicately and the crutch holding onto for dear life.

Arriving in his room he flops down ready to tell out the order for his lackluster slave but feels Y/n's hands on his legs unbuckling his leg braces. He wants to rebuke her kind gesture but when she was so soft, nice, slow with him he could do only but melt at her love and affection. She always was one step ahead of him, everyone is but still... she was in his head far longer than his brothers, no one could survive for that long as she did.

Finishing up the job Y/n grabs the braces placing them next to his crutch, within arm's length. Letting go of the bonds of metal and leather Y/n looks up at the moon as it shined bright with only a few stars as companions. 'When are you going back?' Ivar asks his hands clasping together hoping to hear the largest of numbers 'This my second full moon... tomorrow.' Responding to his question she turns around seeing his head hung in sadness

'But I'll be back. Soon. Very soon.' Ivar nods as his blue eyes pleaded to her to stay more, not to put any more days apart and than together. Her steps squeezed along the dry wood as her derriere sat next to Ivar's on the bed 'I understand... I just wish that we- we weren't such worlds apart.' she knew what he meant and how literal it was for she was a lucky girl who stumbled up a portal in the deep woods behind her house falling directly into his world with no warmth to keep her alive only stumbling over him as she desperately asked passers to lend her their warm coats not bothering to look down tumbling over the man she will fall in love with.

Oh, the irony the only one to help her was the only one she didn't ask. And thus having her tumble from one world into another, pushing her body from a normal warm temperature to freezing winter.

'I know, but I don't want to risk the timeline of history just so you can see my dance.' That was also a problem. The timeline. That's what she thought maybe it was a historic timeline or it was an alternative world where everything was frozen. She didn't know and if she asked him things that would develop later she could change the lives of future billions. She heard stories of him, she read them and witness them but when he was with her it was more a question of that man was capable of killing in cold blood for an honor when he told her she was his true love. She did not know. Nor she doesn't want to know. It was safer that way. But also she knew that he was a Viking that one day will come when she will decide if she'll leave her world or his... forever. Even that was for another time. Not now, when she held him in a tight and warm embrace.

'I'll find a way.' Ivar whispered through her clothes letting his heavy eyes close as he is lulled into a peaceful sleep knowing that when he wakes up she will be gone until the next full moon.

The cold sun shined brightly into the room as its soft icy rays fall onto Ivar's s eyelids making him force open. He opens his blue eyes seeing the pillow next to him empty, he was right. She is gone. 'What's wrong brother?' Hvitserk asked his brother as he involuntary ate his food. 'Nothing-nothing.' Ivar replied not wanting to look at his brother's smirk. Ubbe looks at his baby brother saying 'Ah, is the woman of your "life" gone?' Ubbe let the words drag far longer than normal to irk Ivar more and more. Ivar held the fork with all his strength feeling as if with one more "joke" he will fling it to his brother's eyeball. 'Boys, enough.' Aslaug says with authority in her voice pleading the boys to stop harassing their youngest. Everyone around the table knew just how much Ivar had a short fuse but still his family should understand his sorrow. 'Do not worry dear brother, soon she will leave you so you will not feel like this anymore.'

Ubbe said with no cares for his brother's love. Ivar looked ta him immediately fearing the worst. He knew that whatever his brothers said about her was meant as a joke but this kind of sentence bore throughout all layers of emotions, intentional or not. It broke his heart to think there won't be unanticipated waits of her return or walking down a street just holding her hand to see the shocked reactions of his people, feeling on top of the world with her. He didn't want those moments to stop coming in, he doesn’t want to feel alone and in pain.

Hell, even when he was in pain she was with him to tell him about her life as a dancer. It didn't have to stop. Not if he wanted to.

'Okay, class. From the beginning. Step 1, step 2, hop 3 and twirl 4 aannndd falls gracefully down. Good job.' the teacher applauded her team of marvelous ballerinas letting them take a rest talking to each other to catch up on their days they spent free.

Y/n laid next to her friend Micheal as he nudged her shoulder 'So, the guy, Ivar? When I'll meet him?' he asked the all too telling question as he untangled his ballet shoes.' Well... he is-well he is... busy? Yeah, that.' 'Sure... sure Susan. I mean I just want to see a man that fell in love with your soul and not your amazingly talented feet.' Michael was right. He always was.

His questions were innocent enough but his intentions were sincere. But he didn't meet a historic/alternative universe Viking who captured her heart. 'Besides, the grand show is in 2 days and he won't come?' 'Yeah, he isn't the one for the finer arts.' 'I can understand that. But if I had an artistic girlfriend I would be with her each day and attend all her shows.'

Y/n slumped her shoulders feeling the sadness sead into her heart she wanted to see Ivar at her shows but it just wasn't going to happen. As her shoulders sank so did her smile, giving Micheal a big smack on the head. He was stupid.' Y/n...' 'It's okay... really, it is.' Y/n looked at the wood flooring hoping to remove this sad energy from her soul hoping that Ivar is having a better day than her.

'I am telling you it is true love!' Ivar screamed at his brothers seeing the doubtful gleam 'Brother, having sex is not love. That is something you cannot understand.' Ubbe restored back' 'Oh yeah... And what about your love life Ubbe, your wife isn't really faithful I heard.' Ivar halted his words seeing the sudden snap of his brother's posture, he grins 'Maybe it's because you aren't active anymore so she searches for other men to please her.' Ubbe stood up holding his hands reaching towards Ivar's neck over the table to strangle the life out of him. Ivar felt Ubbe's chubby fingers around his neck trying to choke but as much ut was dangerous it was funny to Ivar 'Brother have you... lost your inner man? I'm still here breathing.' Ivar said with little to no effort as he saw Ubbe's eyes glare at him cursing and condemning his soul and body.

'Enough!' Aslaug slammed her fist on the table startling everyone present 'Ubbe that is not how you act with your brother. Not when he is hurting.' she says softly trying to calm the brut.' His ways of thinking got me angry. ' Ubbe said trying to explain his harsh actions. Ivar looked at his older brother feeling a kick in his stomach, he stands up leaning on his crutch leveling his eyesight with Aslaug and Ubbe

'So does that mean that you do not think that I am worthy of love? Because I am just a cripple?' 'Let's face it Ivar, no one other than mother can love you.' Sigurd bugged in leaving Ivar at a loss of words. Ivar looked at his "family" seeing no smug of empathy, no desire does not help him feel better about the woman he loved so dearly. He wanted to scream at them but he needed to prove it to them

'Follow me, and I will show you the truth.' Ivar hobbled out of the dining room as he heard steps in the back following him.

The reflectors shined down on the podium as the dancers took center dancing along the musical influences that played beneath them while Y/n waited for her grand stage.

The piece de résistance.

She will have her solo number finishing off the ballet show. Her dress was long and flowing, hoping that she will seem like a floating ghost and not a white sheet falling on the floor, her hair tied into a bun pinned in with many fake jewels but still giving her regal glow and her ballet shoes neatly tightened with a bow behind her calf.

'Ready?' Micheal asked as he hopped off the stage next to her his breath trying to catch up to him. She nods as the lights dim down giving her the cue to go out, to take the final dance and close of this beautiful show. Bending her knees a little she feels the warmth lights on her back snap right back up as the music starts its first few sharp notes.

Her head snaps to the crowd seeing the influx of esteemed guests dressed in dresses and suits waiting for her to show them her skills. Standing slowly up with the music she looks further seeing the back door open a few more guests entering.

Not now.

Letting the music take her on she spins along letting her mind go blank and her feet take control. Each step careful as the last one, soft and mellow as the music played, her arms moving along with the musical air telling a story of their own, while her eyes every now and then watched the crowds reaction seeing a glimmer of silver, her eyes stop still focusing on it.

Her spins take her around still trying to see in the far back who it was. The music mellows down her movements following the pace as she takes one more final step towards the crowd ending the grand show.

Y/n bows her head and the crowd stands up in thunderous applause showing her with cheers, claps, and whistle... wolf whistles? Here? In a posh theater? She looks up seeing the person who wolf-whistled was none other than Ivar. What?! Not letting the sudden shock show she walks backstage passing the cheers of her teacher and peers and running straight to the back to see if this was happening.

Her dress flowed behind her but immediately stopped. 'Ivar.' The love of her life turned around on his crutches smiling proudly 'Now I understand what you meant.' There he was Ivar, Ubbe, Sigurd, Hvitserk, and Aslaug. How? Ivar walked along the plush corridor as Y/n drew closer and closer steps to him, hugging him tightly as possible. He hugged back feeling underneath his fingers the white fabric on her waist her sweet scent was now sweeter as if she was dipped in the richest honey.

Ivar pulls away smiling at his girl seeing her eyes he missed so dearly for the last 4 days while she gazed at his blue irises seeing that a day more and he could have a mental breakdown 'Are you alright?' Y/n asked 'I am now. My ballet princess.'

[love-the-purple-cat]

Oh don't you dare look back, just keep your eyes on me - Chapter 1 Part 2

Ichigo is half expecting the girl to transfer into his class, just like the shinigami and Shinji had done, but no, she doesn’t appear.

He crushes the disappointment that arises in his chest when she doesn't.

It doesn’t matter, he isn’t a shinigami anymore, so it doesn’t make sense for whatever the hell the girl – Cherī– is to seek him out. That portion of his life is over and he needs to accept it. That is in the past.

(-But the past is never dead-)

Except,

Except he doesn’t want to.

He doesn’t want to be powerless. Doesn’t want to watch Inoue, Chad and Ishida run out of class to fight Hollows. Doesn’t want the pitying looks his teacher gives him whenever that happens. Doesn’t want for his sister to sneak out and do whatever she does. Doesn’t want for his father to keep acting like nothing has happened, like Ichigo doesn’t know that he used to be a captain.

Doesn’t want his friends to pretend like he doesn’t know about Hollows, like he didn’t fight in a fucking war, like he didn't die saving one of them.

He doesn’t want any of that.

So what does he do?

He seeks out the girl that practically screams trouble.

-----------------------------

It was nearing the end of lunch when he finally finds her.

She is leaning against a wall, looking at her phone. She doesn’t appear to notice, nor does she appear to expect him.

“Cherī,” He says, placing himself next to her, arms crossed and glaring at the opposite wall.

“Oh, hey Ichigo.” She says, turning her head to look at him and closing her phone. “What's up?”

He shrugs, “Nothing much.”

They lapse into silence.

She doesn’t try to start a conversation, she just opens her phone and keeps on scrolling and tapping. He chances a glance and sees that it is a conversation. Something about a guy ghosting the person Cherī is texting after they said ‘I love you'.

“How are you liking the school?” He asks, wanting to get things over with as quickly as possible.

“’s alright. How did ya know Ah’m new?”

“You could say I have a sixth sense for knowing when someone new transfers.” Not quite a lie, but not quite the truth.

She scrunches up her nose, whether at him or at the text she just received he wasn’t sure. After writing and rewriting her response and sending it does she turn to face him. “Yer friends wit' da teachers, aren’t'cha? That's how ya knew Ah was new.” She smiles, like she just solved the puzzle.

He snorts rudely. “Please. Like this,” He gestures to his hair, “could ever make the teachers like me.”

“Eh,” She flaps her hand, “Ya never know. If yer sweet an’ polite an' don’t make any noise during class, da teachers will love ya.”

“It sounds like you speak from experience.”

“That’s how Ah used ta’ be in middle school. An’ da first year of high school as well, before we moved, ‘course.”

“Why did you move?”

“Ma’ pa got transferred so off we went. What ‘bout ya? Have ya always lived ‘ere?”

“Yeah, my whole life.”

“An’ afterwards?”

“What?” Did she mean Soul Society?

“Ya know, after graduation. Do ya plan on stayin ‘ere or will ya move?”

“Oh,” He rubs his neck. This was the first time he had to seriously think about what he would do after high school. There was never quite enough time to do that when he was too busy saving the three worlds from a megalomaniac with a God complex. “Not sure.”

She nods in understanding. “Same. Might take a year off ta' try an' "discover myself".” He got to see her neon coloured nails when she did the air quotes. “But that’s just so ma' parents would get off ma' back.”

“They’re forcing you to do something?”

“Not quite. They just want me ta' make an honest livin'. Ma' ma wants me ta’ take over when she retires, an' ma' pa wants me ta' be anythin' but a bartender. Joke’s on ‘im, Ah can just become a stripper!” She laughs at her joke. “Ya know, ‘cuz he says anything but a bartender, so Ah can be a stripper.” She says when he doesn’t laugh.

“Yeah, I get it.” He is dumbfounded by this girl.

“Can Ah ask ya sumthin?”

“Sure?”

“Where'dja get yer hair done in that colour. Been thinkin' of dyein' mine soon but don’t know any good hairdressers ‘round.”

Ichigo is surprised to not feel the familiar anger whenever someone assumes his hair is bleached. “It’s natural.”

She gaps. “Shut up.”

“It is.” Is that a hint of smugness that he is feeling?

“No way. Ya lucky bastard!” She laughs, knocking their shoulders. “Ah would kill ta' have hair like that! Instead, Ah'm stuck wit' borin’ black. At least ma' eyes're a light blue.”

“That’s light blue?” He tilts his head to examine her eyes. Yep, still an intense blue.

“Yeah, Ah'm just using contacts fer a brighter colour. Not all of us can have orange eyes.”

“I don’t have orange eyes.”

She frowns and gets on her tiptoes to see his face. He leans down a bit to help her. “Ah, ma' mistake. Ah guess in da right light they look orange. Or is it amber?” She gets down, eyes looking to the upper left in thought.

“I think they're similar?”

She nods. “Yer probably right.”

It is then that the bell rings, signalling the end of lunch.

“Anyway, see ya.”

 --------------------------

It is only as he is sitting in math class that he realises that he didn’t ask her what she wanted.

[awaylaughing]

Pippa and Hamin for the ship meme!

let’s GOOOOO. Under a read more because I can talk about Ideas For Fucking Ever. The meme in question and if you read this and think “golly gee, I’d love to give you an opprotunity to chat more about othere people” I have a shiny new character page you could reference here.

who’s the werewolf and who’s the hunter

This one I had to think about. Hamin probably makes a better werewolf, but Pippa makes a UNIQUELY terrible hunter so, pivoting ever so slightly maybe she’s more like a behind the scenes information broker type (Pippa, Collector and Keeper of Secrets is incredibly canon after all). She’d obviously have to start off allied with the hunters, to keep the tension with Hamin real and true. Hamin’s pack doesn’t have the WORST reputation possible, but they’re definitely not above suspicion. They retain their passion for ocean voyages, which strikes other people as odd because prejudice.

That said, you know who ALSO makes a great werewolf? Pippa’s mother and “aunt”, Roshan and Jessamine, so Pippa as part of a bamf all lady’s wolf pack who get tangled up with hunter shenanigans is also an excellent plot. Not least because Pippa would be a very pretty wolf, I dare say (maybe they’d actually be were-jackels, a la the Golden Jackel? A Consideration, given where I HC a modern AU Pippa would be from).

In this case I’d say the lady’s pack almost never maul people, except maybe domestic abusers and rapists, but who can blame them? So another pack moves in (it’s prob Jarrude’s lbr) and causes problems and Very Serious Hunter Hamin (ha) has to wade through the complicated world of lycanthrope politics to find The Truth. And of course falls in love with the nicest werewolf this side of whatever major geographical feature of your choice.

who’s the mermaid and who’s the fisherman

Mermaid Pippa and “fisherman” Hamin, natch. Pippa’s not very ruthless canonically, but I can apply liberal use of Alternate Cultural POVs On Ethics and say Pippa only leaves her goaded people on rocks, she never drowns them! That’s very nice of her! And sometimes she pulls an Ariel and helps a bro out, which is probably related to how her and Hamin meet. Some options:

1. Pippa had previously saved Hamin’s life, so in turn, something happens and she gets caught, and he saves her life as repayment. Similar to Bog Standard Plot Below, she’s obviously too injured to return to sea so they’re forced to cohabitate. High jinks and romance ensue.

2. Bog standard mermaid washed ashore plot. Bathtub high jinks ensue. There’s a scene where someone catches Hamin carrying a bucket of raw fish into his house and he has to explain it away. Leala catches on in the first 20 mins. At some point, they’re forced to bring Pippa to dinner with Hamin’s dad and there is much nerves, only for Pippa to reveal she’s stranded many a gentlemen adventurer in her time and she picked up some epic etiquette knowledge along the way.

3. Hamin gets stranded somewhere and Pippa’s the only person around who can come visit. It starts with her bringing him fish. Requisite Second Act Breakup is when Pippa, conscience having formed in the last hour of run time, reveals a way off his small deserted island. Obviously, he sails off in a huff and they meet up again in the next 35 minutes, have the big damn kiss and idk how you turn this one into a true happy ending and not a sort of esoteric one but Hollywood and or an Indie Darling Director will manage.

who’s the witch and who’s the familiar

Witch Pippa, hands down the answer. She gets it from her grandmother (er, step-grandmother?). Does Hamin have an animal form? If so, does it align to Pippa Aesthetic and is he a snakey boi or, does he get to pick? What would Hamin pick? Seagull - the goose of the sea?

Other option is he’s always human and either case I’m betting Hamin’s not a traditional familiar. Rather, he needed to get out Faerie/Familiarland STAT and filched Pippa’s contract off a Traditional And Proper Familiar and got himself a ticket to human land away from whoever he pissed off.

High jinks ensue.

who’s the barista and who’s the coffee addict

I had to think about this one because I mean let’s be very real here - neither Pippa, Quintessential Nice But Still Privileged Rich Girl or Hamin “cause problems for the staff on purpose” are shoe ins for having worked for customer service. That said, Hamin’s more likely to piss off his dad and be forced to get a job and like, have a real person job in general. So, Hamin’s barista job is his in-world Summit equivelent and he planned to quit the moment he paid off whatever damages he’s definitely paying off.

Except, Pippa comes in and orders only moderately complicated coffee orders and this isn’t a place that does the name thing so Hamin knows Nothing except she’s friendly and pretty and omg this one is perfect to throw in the OT3 because clearly the only reason he doesn’t just immediately ask Pippa for her name and number and also the next 20 years of her life pls and thanks is her hot boyfriend.

(But it’s okay, Pippa has two hands and so does Zarad u_u)

Otherwise she’d have to be someone who just comes to drive through bc idk why he’d hold off on asking since this is HAMIN we’re talking about.

who’s the professor and who’s the TA

...either of these two in academia is an interesting prospect. Maybe he’s a kid who got into archeology because of Indiana Jones and, while there’s far fewer chase scenes and death traps, Hamin ended up with a PhD and a job and look, he’s as confused as you are about how this all happened. It’s alright though because the job does come with cute anthropology TAs who work in an allied and often cross referential field. Pippa’s less immediately enamoured with Hamin but warms up because he’s the only person who actually listens to her and doesn’t treat her like she’s a child just because she’s a short woman.

This one could be set in exciting locales for a bit of Indie Flavour but with more consent and less horrifying age gaps, and no breaking of international laws and if anyone gets squished by rocks it’s a horrifying rock slide scenario.

Alternatively, polisci professor Pippa is working alongside the marine biology department to work on smth enviro-politics and ocean protection. TA Hamin is Very Enthusiastic about helping her out. This one features a scene where people naturally assume Hamin’s the professor and he trolls the ever living shit out of them.

This one is set in conferences which is 10000% less sexy but also way more familiar.

Depends on the vibes u want. Either way, Lyon is there somewhere and he and Pippa are unlikely friends purely because 4′10″ Pippa and like, 6′5″ or whatever Lyon being friends is never not hilarious. He definitely disapproves of Hamin just in general but especially in a library setting.

who’s the knight and who’s the prince(ss)

This is legit a Knight’s Tale AU, except instead of Jousting, we’ll say Hamin ends up taking Princess Pippa across the country as a sort of personal security situations and, as usual high jinks ensue. IDK who makes the best Chaucer stand in as a pal to help Hamin in his quest but he definitely needs the help. Pippa catches on like, super fast anyway because her interpersonal insight is boss af but she just goes with it because it’s amusing and he’s doing a fine job.

Another candidate for the OT3 bc Chaucer!Zarad is perfect, but so is the plot being that Hamin and Zarad had a thing aaages ago, now Pippa’s being carted off to marry prince Zarad and oh hey this is also nearly a Sinbad AU but with the proper Poly Ending in place

There is no AU where Pippa’s a the knight to Hamin’s prince, I’m sad to say. Her martial skills are about nil.

who’s the teacher and who’s the single parent

HMMM. I think Early Childhood Specialist Hamin and Parent Pippa shake out best, mostly because at the end of the day I don’t think Pippa like...likes kids that much. She doesn’t dislike them but she’d never want a life devoted to spending all her time with them. Her own kids though, different story.

Evil instinct says dad is Clarmont, because I feel like Clarmont is really easy to kill off in incredibly tragic but heroic circumstances and Modern AU Pippa would totally be down for a Clarmont romance. Anyway, Pippa has an adorable little girl who thinks Mr. Hamin is the BEST teacher, he helped her dig up worms for her show and tell at recess mama!

Pippa and Hamin in this set up don’t actually meet for like, a solid three months so they both form skew-whiff images of the other and so they get a CLASSIC “oh no (s)he’s hot / THIS IS MR. HAMIN / THIS IS MS. X” moment. Adorable Little Girl is captain of this ship despite being like, 4 and Pippa and Hamin are just along for the ride.

High jinks ensue.

(alt bc I’m never not on my bullshit dad is Zarad, and not dead and they just never married bc Family Drama and OT3 babey)

who’s the writer and who’s the editor

Absolutely writer Hamin and editor Pippa. She inherited from someone who quit and she really shakes things up by like, having Expectations and shit and Hamin, who’s been not in a good place following a personal trauma, finds himself annoyed for all of two seconds before she shows up on his doorstep on the day after a due date because if he wants to play Pippa will Play. And oh no, she’s cute. Hamin is enraptured, Pippa just wants him to work at first. Romance blossoms lopsidedly but he charms her after some sort of deal is struck that includes her dragging him out of the house to buy food or just go for a walk or whatever.

Shenanigan ensue.

This one is pure fluff about the power of human connection, there is no second act drama they get to skip ahead AND collect their 20 dollars it’s great.

[badbookreviewclub]

Compete Review - Stones to Abbigale, by Onision

Disclaimer: This review will contain spoilers… if you haven’t already watched the seven billion book reviews there are for Stones to Abbigale. I won’t be linking to where you can buy this book because I don’t want to support Greg… James… whatever the fuck he’s going by now. If you look hard enough, you can find it for free online. 

Stones to Abbigale is the first book published by Onision. I’m sure we already all know about Onision and how horrible he is, if not I highly recommend going to Youtube and watching The Right Opinion’s videos on him. They’re very enlightening as to the kind of person that Greg is. Anyways, this review isn’t about Onision (kind of), it’s about his book. I couldn’t figure out where the book was published, aside from a small stamp at the very last page just saying it was published via Amazon.

The Summary: There isn’t one. Fuck. The Characters: James - Simp who likes to act like he’s the hero, but also the victim. Definitely Onision’s self-insert.

Abbigale (Abbi) - A very traumatized person who is written very poorly

Jason - The jock who’s there to make James look like the victim but also the hero

Davis - a character who has no impact on the story and could be completely written out. His presence affects nothing. 

Ms. Robertson - The school counselor who could never actually be a school counselor Mr. Hanson - The history teacher

The Problems: Aside from a multitude of grammatical errors and some spelling errors, this book is just a mess. The characters are incredibly inconsistent to the point of being unrealistic (e.g. one moment Jason is the bad guy and the next he’s James’s best friend). Actually, in general, none of these characters are realistic. It’s really easy to read this story in Greg’s voice because it all sounds just like him. They speak with the same mannerisms that he does and like they all read a psychology book in fifth grade and now they think that they know everything about people and how they work. It’s annoying and incredibly frustrating, actually. 

Another big problem that this book faces is that everything is written in big blocks of text, without regard for needing commas or periods. This makes reading dialogue incredibly difficult and at times can make it really hard to decipher just who is talking. I’m convinced after reading Stones to Abbigale that Onision doesn’t know what the enter bar is. Take this for example, “As we got closer to the gym Abbi was giving me a funny look, as I normally didn’t walk her that far, I said, ‘Don’t worry, I’m not stalking you, we have the same class now.’ She replied, ‘Manipulating your schedule to be with someone sounds like stalking Mr. Patrick.’ I said, ‘Not if you drop Mrs. Stanley.’ She pushed me playfully saying ‘Jealous!’” Let’s split the dialogue up now (and add in proper punctuation. 

As we got closer to the gym Abbi was giving me a funny look; I normally didn’t walk her this far. “Don’t worry, I’m not stalking you. We have the same class now,” I said. “Manipulating your schedule to be with someone sounds like stalking Mr. Patrick,” she replied.  “Not if you drop Mrs. Stanely,” I said. She pushed me playfully, “Jealous!” 

This is a lot easier to read and aside from word choice, it’s not terrible. It could paint a picture a lot easier with better word choice, but this is Onision’s first book so I guess I can cut him a tiny tiny tiny bit of slack on that. Actually, no. This could use better word choice to paint a better picture and make them seem less like cardboard cutouts. 

Another problem is the plot itself. The ‘climax’ of the book, if you will, happens almost at the beginning of the book, which is fucking absurd. It makes the rest of the book feel pointless and like it’s dragging on. 

The Book: 

Chapter 1

We meet our main character, James. Except we don’t know his name is James yet. We do know that he paints his walls, his ceiling, and even his bedframe a startling white however because he “likes to inflict mental torture” on himself. Not sure why he does this, but he does. I think I’ll be the first to say that in any white suburban neighborhood, you could walk into just about most children’s rooms and find white as the standard (at least, that’s how it is in my neighborhood). Why? Fuck if I know. White just looks nice with most furniture, I guess. 

Anyways, our main character is late to school and rushes out the doors with a note he scribbled for an excuse as to why he was late. Yay, we finally get James’s name from Mr. Hanson, who couldn’t give less of a shit that James was late. He just wants to talk to him after class. James starts people watching to an almost creepy extent, trying to get into people’s heads and assuming what they were thinking. If you haven’t read any of my other reviews, you should know, I am not overly fond of when someone tries to assume someone else’s thoughts in this way. Where they psychoanalyze them without have a single hint of qualification. It’s annoying in storytelling. That’s not to say I’m not guilty of having a character do that at times, but I’m trying to be more aware of it and to stop writing like that. With how James is written, however, it’s clearly intentionally and gives off r/im14andthisisdeep vibes. 

Anyways, James rushes off to art class so he can see Abbi. He has never talked to Abbi a day in his life but spends a lot of his time thinking about her and wanting to be with her and basically, just being a simp. He puts too much value on Abbi without ever having talked to her and having no reason to do it, his world revolves around Abbi and she has never so much as shared a word with him. 

But he’s basically staring at Abbi, waiting to say something to her when his hand brushes up against some chewed up gum under the desk and he yells ‘EW’. This doesn’t stop Abbi from wanting to pair up with him however when the teacher gives them an assignment they need partners for. Abbi was originally paired up with Jason, who I guess makes Abbi uncomfortable. That’s understandable that Abbi would want to switch if that was the case, but Onision doesn’t lay it out like that. Instead, it’s laid out that Abbi wants to be paired with James just because. 

Abbi has shown no care for James at the beginning of the book and seemingly before this even started she never seemed to care for or about James. Suddenly though, as soon as the story starts, she cares. She wants to, needs to be with and around him. Why? Because the main character always has to get the girl. 

Anyways, Abbi gives James a piece of paper with ‘NISEONE’ written on it. Apparently, this is her phone number because, on a number pad (the ones with the letters), it is 647-3663. It doesn’t state this outright, so it took me looking at some other reviews before I figured this out. 

We also learn in this chapter that the school is practically falling apart and is dripping with sludge or mold, or something, so I don’t know what kind of school James goes to, but it’s not a good one.

Chapter 2

James goes and talks to Mr. Hanson and it turns out that Mr. Hanson wants James for a TA position. Because ?? ?? ?? ?? ?? ?? I guess James shows a lot of potential, even though he’s late like… all the time. Anyways, the night before Abbi and James decided to make, not a Frankenstein(‘s monster) teddy bear by combining two of their stuffed animals, rather, they’re making a zombie stuffed animal. And it turns out that Abbi wasn’t at class. For what reason? I don’t fucking know. The next day Jason comes to bug the class for some fucking reason because he got kicked out of his own class. There’s absolutely no reason for Jason to be there aside for James to stand up to him because Jason was ‘bullying’ Mr. Hanson. Anyways, Jason gets pissed off because of this and while James is on his way to the art class, Jason beats James up. I’m pretty sure this was only done to make James look like the victim (wonderful :P). James gets suspended for two days because he pushed Jason and Jason is suspended for nine days. 

Before he can leave to go home, James sees Abbi and Seth having what I can only assume is a one-sided fight. Seth is yelling and being very aggressive towards Abbi, and Abbi is just taking it. So James walks her home after Seth gets pissed and leaves. I guess it was raining this entire time, so as they’re walking home, Abbi’s makeup runs and James sees the bruises on her face. When Abbi asks if James sees them, he says “I see a beautiful girl, who I very much enjoy walking with in the rain” (pg 31) (by the way I HAD TO NUMBER ALL THESE PAGES MYSELF). Anyways, cheesy romance, it’s clear Greg doesn’t read his lines out loud and I don’t think James does a single thing to try and help Abbi get out of her abusive situation. He just tells her that she’s beautiful. James is also absurdly upset about the suspension at this point. Like, ridiculously upset. Like you love school so much and the thought of not being able to go feels like the end of the world upset (I was that person in school). But… James has shown absolutely no reason for why he is as upset as he is? Like he genuinely is about to cry over this but he has shown absolutely no care about school before, so it’s just confusing.

Chapter 3

James has a dream that Abbi is being eaten by the ground. He wakes up and writes her a kind of creepy letter about how, despite having only had three conversations with her, he loves her and lives to be with her. He emails it to her and a few minutes later Abbi calls him. She wasn’t aware of the email but invites him to meet her at the Quick Shop. She says that she’ll read the email before she meets him there. She never meets him there (shocker). Chapter 4 

James finally goes back to school and sees that Abbi isn’t in the art trailer still. But the mishmash stuffed animal bear thing is there. Under it is a note from Abbi asking James to meet her behind the church. Rather than stay for the class or anything like that, James bursts away to go to Abbi’s side. 

Abbi tells James that the note weirded her out a little bit, but she was just nervous. She tells him that she has been absurd by Seth and that her mother abandoned her and that her father doesn’t care about her. The only comfort James is able to offer her is that every time he sees her, she’s more beautiful to him than she was before. 

Chapter 5

James’ Mom has a boyfriend who comes out of fucking nowhere named Rick.

At school, James has his schedule rearranged so he can be Mr. Hanson’s TA and so he can still have a class with Abbi. Now he has gym with her. We meet Mr. Mack, who I guess is Jason’s uncle. He’s also the only teacher that James bonds with, I guess. Ms. Robertson, while reorganizing James’ schedule gives him an ominous warning that Abbi is no good and that he should stay away from her. 

Abbi and James spend the rest of the night on the phone, talking to each other. 

 Chapter 6

A few days have passed. Rick and James’ mom announce that they want to move in together. James thinks his life is over and that he’ll never get to see Abbi again. Later that night James suggests to his mom that she just let him live in the house by himself with Abbi and she just agrees to it. Supposedly his mom doesn’t even have enough money to get him a shitty cell phone either, so I guess Rick must be fucking loaded.

Chapter 7

It’s the infamous school shooting. After figuring out that the school is being shot up by Seth, the bus driver does as any rational human being would do and drives away to get everyone to safety. Then he does something that nobody would do and lets James off the bus after James threatens to jump off (despite there being no way that he could?). James rollerblades to the school through the blur of his tears and bursts in. He sits in the puddle of blood in front of the school to get his rollerblades off before rushing in through his tears to find Abbi. He finds Seth first, but rather than being the one to save the day, it’s Jason who saves the day and beats the shit out of Seth. James finds Abbi after this and the two of them sit together while the paramedic patches up James’ feet because he ran through glass while looking for Abbi. Chapter 8 

They’re back at school and a spokesman for the president gives a speech. They see Mr. Mack on a projector and he tells them in gruesome detail about how he tried to take down Seth and how Seth shot him. Definitely what a bunch of traumatized teenagers needed to hear and see. Chapter 9 James and Abbi go to her house, where Abbi’s father drunkenly stumbles out and starts threatening Abbi. A policeman who James claims probably sees too much of this on a daily basis stands to the side (because he just so happened to be nearby with is K-9 partner) and waits for something to happen. Something happens with Abbi’s father smashes James over the head with a beer bottle. The K-9 rushes forward and latches on to him and James claims that the officer is sadistic and likes to see people suffer. He then claims not even two paragraphs later that the cop is numb to what’s going on. Which is it? Is he sadistic or is he a dead-beat cop who sees too much of this shit? 

Abbi’s father is arrested and James decides to press charges. This is how Abbi ends up staying with James. 

Chapter 10 

The president shows up and nothing comes of it. He promised that he would answer everyone’s questions and talk to everyone. He only talks to two people, James and another kid, named Chris. Chris just asked why the president was such a D-Bag and the president just says “that’s President D-Bag to you.” James asked what the president thought of what people said about him and the president goes on this long diatribe about freedom of speech. 

Chapter 11 

Abbi wants to talk to James but insists that they do it in the shower. For some reason, James agrees to this and Abbi comes out of the shower to show all of her self-harm scars. Once again, James does nothing than tell her she’s beautiful and that’s about it. They almost fuck after this, but don’t because James’s mom is home. 

Chapter 12 

James and Abbi stay home to help his mom pack. Later they go to the park to stargaze and affirm to each other that they want kids. 

Chapter 13 

Abbi leaves James a big long note for him to read in class about how she was raped by some boys. Mrs. Roberston helped to get those boys in jail, but after finding out that Abbi was pregnant, she insisted that Abbi keep the baby because she is very pro-life. Seth found out about the baby and punched Abbi in the stomach until she miscarried. James’ response to the note is to go straight to Abbi’s classroom and make out with her in front of everyone and on the desk. He goes back to history class and Mr. Hanson basically high-five’s him for doing this, despite the fact that he walked out in the middle of class to do it. 

Chapter 14 

It’s Christmas break. They fuck. 

Chapter 15

James beats the shit out of Jason because Jason was groping Abbi. For some reason, when the principle comes out to confront everyone about this, Jason doesn’t rat on James.

Chapter 16

While driving somewhere with James and Abbi, Davis rushes out of the car into the middle of the freeway because he sees a man hanging from a rope from an overpass. Davis is killed. This is the only purpose that Davis serves in the entire story. It’s to die so James can be the victim once more because apparently if he was never born so he could never be in Davis’ life then this would have never happened. Survivor’s guilt is a thing, don’t get me wrong. But what Onision is using here isn’t survivor’s guilt. It’s James twisting the situation so he’s the victim still. 

Chapter 17

Davis’s funeral. Nothing happens besides James playing the victim some more. 

Chapter 18

Mr. Hanson and Mrs. Roberston confront James and they want him to become Class President. James doesn’t want to but it doesn’t seem like they’ll take no for an answer. A little while later Abbi, while walking with James, is pulled into the front office for some questioning by police. Mrs. Roberston shouts in front of everyone that Abbi was responsible for the school shooting. Because… you know… that’s a reasonable thing to do…

Abbi confronts James later that night and tells him that she wrote in a note to Seth, when she was in a really bad place, that she just wished everyone would disappear (not unreasonable and something I’ve done before). James, being the little bitchy drama-queen that he is, storms off to take a dramatic shower. While sitting in the shower though he realizes that Abbi did nothing wrong and comes back. Abbi immediately accepts him again and isn’t upset that he suddenly stormed off after she told him something rather hard for her to do. They make out (and probably fuck).

Chapter 19 

Abbi gets a bucket of paint thrown on her while she’s coming into the school and James punches the kid who did it. The principle shows up and both intimidates and threatens the kid who threw the bucket of paint. He also calls Mrs. Roberston into his office after James tells him that she told everyone that Abbi was responsible for the shooting. 

Chapter 20

Mrs. Roberstson was fired and burned down the entire school in retaliation. All the students get passing grades for the rest of the year (which is about 6 months of school left by the way). James ends off the book by saying “Well, I guess this means I won’t be running for President.” 

The book drags and has a lot of pointless info in it. At one point it genuinely made me feel sick how he was using Abbi’s trauma throughout the book to write a very, very poorly conceived hero fantasy. All the characters are unrealistic and nobody means anything to the story other than Abbi and James. I’m just glad it was a fast read. There are huge info dumps in the beginning, but as you can see, the rest of the chapters can be summed up in less than a fucking paragraph. The climax of the book comes way too early (the school shooting) and in general, it’s just a poorly written plot. It feels like a first draft that should have been taken back to the drawing board to be reworked until the shooting could become the ultimate climax of the book. It was rushed, and because it was rushed, the rest of the book dragged on. 1/10 stars. I didn’t hate it as much as I’ve hated other books, but it wasn’t good by any stretch of the imagination. 

[missjanjie]

Branjie Fic | Hold Me Closer, Tiny Dancer (7/?)

Title: Hold Me Closer, Tiny Dancer Summary: Brooke Lynn is a graduate student anxiously embracing her new position as her favorite dance professors’ new TA. Vanessa is a sophomore dance major who just might make her way into being more than the teacher(assistant)’s pet. (lesbian/university AU) Word Count: ~2.9k (this chapter)/~18.9k (total) Relationship: Branjie (Vanessa ‘Vanjie’ Mateo/Brooke Lynn Hytes) Rating: E

Read on AO3 | Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch.5 | Ch. 6

After going back and forth about it over the weekend, Brooke Lynn decided she would attempt to go to class on Monday. She went through all the steps; shower, dress, eat quickly, she had made it all the way to the visual arts building before she panicked. The second she caught sight of Vanessa, all resolve went out the window and she ducked into the first room available.

The room she ended up in turned out to be the auditorium. There were various people milling about, but most occupants were on the stage, rehearsing for the winter musical – RENT. No one particularly minded, or even noticed, Brooke’s presence, allowing her to quietly find a spot to sit and watch. She had never been much of a musical theatre person, but she appreciated the soundtrack and found herself aimlessly humming along to the song they were performing.

“Brooke Lynn? Is that you?” a girl had spotted her from the front of the auditorium and had gotten all the way to the seat next to her without being noticed. “What brings you over here?”

Brooke looked over and winced. The girl’s name was Donna, a senior who she’d had a fling with the year prior, who had pushed for them to start dating and was promptly ghosted. Frankly, Brooke was surprised Donna seemed happy to see her. “Oh, I just…didn’t feel like making it to class today. I’m Katya’s TA now, she’ll understand,” she was talking at her more than to her, the last thing she needed was Donna trying to weasel her way back into the picture too.

“So, the rumors are true? You hooked up with one of her students?” Donna sat cross-legged and sideways on the chair and looked at her curiously. “Is that why you’re here? Did things go bad?”

Abruptly, Brooke got up and grabbed her bag. “I don’t need this right now,” she muttered and briskly walked out and went right back to her apartment. She should have just stayed in bed, she thought.

But on her way back, she was stopped by yet another girl she recognized. This time it was Vanessa’s roommate, whose name was embarrassingly lost on her in that moment. She stopped her on the sidewalk and pulled her to the side. “Listen, it’s really none of my business, but you need to consider forgiving Vanessa. Not for her sake, for mine. She doesn’t shut up about you, even in her sleep,” and the roommate even sounded exhausted.

“You’re right, it is none of your business. Get some earplugs,” Brooke huffed and walked past her, praying she could finally get back to her apartment in peace, but even her own subconscious kept playing showtunes on repeat.

‘Take your brown eyes, your pretty smile, your silhouette…no day but today…’

----------

“She wasn’t in class today. What if she skipped town?” Vanessa was pacing back and forth in her dorm while a beleaguered A’keria sat on her bed, subjected to another round of her friend going on about Brooke Lynn.

“You think she skipped town cause she’s mad at you?” A’keria stared at her incredulously. “Are you even listening to yourself right now? She probably just stayed at home or whatever,” she pointed out, looking up at the sound of a knock at the door. “Please, lord, let that be Brooke Lynn,” she muttered putting her hands together as if in prayer.It was not, it was Blair. “Hey guys,” she turned to Vanessa, “Okay, latest Brooke Lynn update is that my friend, Donna, saw her in the auditorium earlier and she said that she seemed sad and frustrated,” she recalled.

“Fuck, what do I do about this?” Vanessa groaned, plopping herself down on the floor. “What if she meant it? What if she does love me, but I ruined it by being an asshole?” she rests her head against the wall. “I need to do something, just being sorry isn’t gonna cut it anymore.”

“Oh! Big romantic gesture! I love these, I bet we could think of something,” Blair bounced on her heels cheerfully. “Well…you don’t sing or play piano, so that eliminates like, half of my ideas…but we’ll still think of something!” she assured. “What about a flash mob?”

Vanessa shook her head. “That’s too over the top, Brooke Lynn wouldn’t go for something that extra,” she explained. “I wanna do something, but she’s not gonna be happy if it’s somewhere crowded. She hates people seeing her emotions,” she sunk down to sit on the floor and groaned. “Fuck, y’all, I’ve never fucked up like this before.”

“Personally, I think both of you are way too worked up about this. Just jump the redheaded bitch and call it a day,” A’keria remarked.

“You know Brooke would be all ‘beating her up won’t solve anything’,” Vanessa rolled her eyes, though that might not stop her at this point. As mad at herself as she was, she felt like Lily needed to take some of the blame, it would make her feel better, that was for sure.

But then she was pulled from her train of thought when an alarm went off on her phone. “I gotta go to class, but we ain’t done brainstorming,” she said as she got up, the three of them leaving the dorm and going their separate ways.

Vanessa knew things were bad when she was actually relieved to be in class, and this one was actually sort of fun. It was the one she sat next to Yvie in, and they had come to appreciate each other’s company and chat candidly when they could. “Can I ask you something?” she asked when her classmate sat down.

“Go for it,” Yvie propped her elbow up on the desk and rest her chin on the palm of her hand.

“Let’s say you did something that really pissed off someone you care about and they don’t want to talk to you. What sort of, like…big gesture would you do to let them know how sorry you are?” One thing Vanessa was able to count on Yvie for was her honesty. While her friends did more to try to spare her feelings, sometimes it was necessary to have an outside perspective.

Yvie tilted her head and strummed her fingers against the desk. “Well, if just talking is out of the question, you still have to work on their terms. Maybe ask someone close to them and see what they suggest. Just don’t do something stupid and extra, like a flash mob,” she told her.

Vanessa pursed her lips as she listened, quickly concluding that Yvie was right. She didn’t know too many people in Brooke Lynn’s life, having gathered that most of her family remained in Canada. But she knew there was one person that would be able to help her.

----------

“I have been waiting for this moment for so long,” Katya grinned, sitting upright in her office chair and leaning forward.

“I feel like that’s a conversation for another day,” Vanessa remarked. “Anyway, what do I do? It’s been like, three days and I feel like I’m losing my goddamn mind.”

Katya was still giddy but took on a more pensive expression. She was silent for a few moments, then suddenly brightened right back up. “The student radio show!” she looked around until she found the flyer about it. “Brooke did it during her undergrad, so she’s still sentimental about it. She listens to it every week, Tuesday evenings. Go ask them to play a song and give them a message to read. Like that episode of Friends except it works because you’re not a heterosexual douchebag.”

Vanessa nodded, taking the flyer. “I knew you’d come through,” she beamed. “Thanks!” she waved and left. She went straight back to her dorm and opened her laptop and notebook. She needed the perfect song, and the perfect note to go with it. With a google search of ‘best love songs to apologize with’ open and a clean page of paper ready to go, she cracked her knuckles and got to work.

By one in the morning Vanessa had moved on to a second notebook and had finally believed she had captured her feelings into the best of her abilities. And the song? Well, she couldn’t have picked a better one. The lyrics fit so well; it was as if it was written for her to play for Brooke Lynn. She only hoped she would feel the same way.

Early the next morning, Vanessa made her way into the building where the radio show was done. It was foggy and dark, foreshadowing rain, and she only hoped that didn’t reflect the outcome of her plan. While she found the building easily, she did get a little lost finding the actual recording room. After about ten minutes of confusion and wandering, she found just where she needed to be.

As luck would have it, the room was occupied with students that worked on the show, and luckier still, one of the students was Yvie, so Vanessa ran right towards her. “Yvie, I took your advice and now I need your help again to follow through,” she went over and sat at the other side of the desk. “I talked to someone close to the person and—”

“You can just say Brooke Lynn, you know,” Yvie cut her off, “Everyone’s like, aware that something’s happening. It’s an open secret, like Rock Hudson.”

“Who that?”

Vanessa rifled through her bag until she pulled out a sheet of paper. There were several lines that had been crossed out and rewritten, but the bottom half of the page contained a coherent note. “I need you to read this note and play that song tomorrow during your show. Don’t proofread it or nothing, she’s gotta know this came from me,” she was fidgeting with her hands and shifting around in her seat. This could be her only chance at winning Brooke Lynn over.

“For what it’s worth, I’m rooting for you guys. I have no idea why, I just feel like this needs to work out,” Yvie remarked offhandedly.

“Thanks, I think.”

----------

Tuesdays were relatively decent days for Brooke Lynn. She got to be a student instead of a teacher in class and was home in time to cook herself an actual meal for dinner, this time without nearly killing herself or setting anything on fire. It was a nice way to distract herself from her stresses and woes. Especially since, on top of everything else, it had been drearily raining from the moment she woke up.

At this point, she had moved on from her initial fury towards Vanessa, but she was still angry, still hurt. But above anything else she was embarrassed. She was embarrassed that she had let herself fall so easily, that she had gotten sucked in by – quoting the song that had been stuck in her head – brown eyes, a pretty smile, and silhouette. Incidentally, she doubted she would ever be able to listen to the RENT soundtrack again.

But still, she knew better. She didn’t even date and all of the sudden she was vulnerable and lovesick towards someone that would flirt with a girl dressed like a CW character just to make her jealous. Suffice it to say, the past couple months have been a rollercoaster.

“Time for the one consistent staple in my life,” Brooke murmured to herself, sitting down with her dinner at the table and her phone hooked up to a Bluetooth speaker. She checked the time – two minutes to six – the radio show was about to start.

The introduction went as it usually did, and Brooke Lynn was tuning in and out as she ate. That was until the first song ended and the announcer said something that captured her attention.

“This next song was requested by my fellow dance major, Vanessa Mateo, aka Vanjie,” Brooke’s heart skipped a beat and her fork dropped on to her plate. She quickly made the volume louder and listened intently.

“Vanjie wrote a note that she asked me to read: ‘I won’t say your name ‘cause I know you get paranoid when it comes to you and me. But I need you to know how fucking sorry I am that I hurt you. It was stupid and not worth making you that upset. And I know sometimes ‘sorry’ isn’t enough, but it’d mean a lot if you gave me one more chance. If you will, you know where to find me’,” Yvie read. “Aww, that was sweet, wasn’t it? And with that, from Vanjie to ‘you know who you are’, this is Songbird by Fleetwood Mac.”

If Brooke hadn’t already been close to tears from Vanessa’s note, the song would have done the trick. Within the first few lines the dam broke and tears streamed down her cheeks. By the time the chorus hit, she was reduced to sobs.

“And the songbirds are singing, like they know the score. And I love you, I love you, I love you, like never before.”

When the song ended, there was no doubt in Brooke’s mind as to what she had to do. She went to the bathroom to wash her face and get herself together. And with that, her coat and shoes were on and she was out the door.

Vanessa had said in her note that Brooke would know where to find her, and apparently that had rung true, because the next thing she knew, she was running into the dance studio with a certainty that must have come from somewhere other than her conscious brain. It didn’t matter that she was soaked and shivering, she knew that this was where she needed to be.

The Vanessa that stood in the dance studio was one that Brooke had never seen before. She looked meek, hesitant, curling into herself. This was Vanessa without the confidence and attitude she brandished like weapons. She looked terrified, and her red, watery eyes made it clear that she had been crying too. Her bottom lip quivered as she looked up at her. “You showed up.”

Brooke wordlessly ran across the room to Vanessa, grabbing her head and kissing her fiercely. When she pulled away, she picked her up and hugged her tight and damn it, tears were slipping out again. “How dare you turn me into a hopeless romantic?” she laughed through the tears before eventually setting her down. “You have me wrapped around your pretty little finger, it’s just not fair.”

Vanessa was tearing up again too, which admittedly made Brooke feel a little better about her own inability to keep her feelings under control. She wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her sweater and smiled up at her. “I won’t take that for granted no more. No more foolishness neither. So, we’re giving us another shot?” she asked because, despite everything that’d just happened, she needed the verbal confirmation.

“Yes. We may not be able to pick up right where we left off, but I can’t picture myself with anyone but you,” Brooke confessed. They would have to try a little harder, having undone some of the trust they’d built. But she had faith in Vanessa, and faith in their relationship. She took a half step back to take off her coat. “Can we sit? That took a lot out of me,” she admitted and sat with her back against the wall.

Vanessa sat in Brooke’s lap, a space she fit perfectly in. She combed her fingers through her damp, blonde hair and kissed her forehead. “Y’know, you’ve changed me too. Got me being responsible, taking care of myself. I used to think that shit was boring, but it feels healthy and good.”

Brooke couldn’t help but giggle at that. “I’m glad I coerced you into self-care,” she teased. She rubbed her hand up and down Vanessa’s back and kissed lightly along her jaw. “You know what we haven’t done yet? Gone on an actual date. Let’s do something fun this weekend, just you and me, maybe venture outside the city…”

“Shit, if I didn’t think we’d get caught, I’d show you how good of an idea I think that is,” Vanessa winked playfully as she leaned up and kissed her.

Brooke laughed and kissed back languidly. “Baby, I don’t have the energy for that right now anyway. What I’m gonna do is bring you back to my apartment, make you try what I made for dinner, then we’re gonna watch some shitty movies until we fall asleep.”

Vanessa smiled and let Brooke pick her up. As they went outside, they realized the rain had cleared and left them with a calm night – or as calm as a night in New York City could be. “It’s a sign,” she joked.

But sometimes the universe was funny like that, whether it was a change in the weather or hearing the right song, sometimes life brings you exactly where you need to be. And hopefully, it put Brooke Lynn and Vanessa on the path to rebuilding their relationship.

[odderancyart]

Happy 1st anniversary, Dreamswap!

Apparently that’s today.

@onebizarrekai I did a thing for it. Thank you for such a great AU. AM (Alternate Multiverse) perhaps.

AO3

6:00

The loud ringing of the alarm clock echoed through the room. Dream blinked as he opened his eye sockets. Yawning, he stretched as he threw his legs over the side of the enormous, golden bed; a luxury he had allowed himself. After quickly changing from nightclothes to daywear, he made his way toward his office to work a little before breakfast.

7:00

Eating breakfast alone was nice. Most of the time he shared his breakfast and lunch with his subordinates so they could utilize the time as much as possible and continue working as they ate. Just for today, though, Dream had decided that he’d enjoy a quiet meal. He turned a page in his book, smiling as the Little Women sisters decided to stop being so greedy and buy their mother Christmas gifts instead of spending their money on themselves. Little Women was one of his favourite books. He had reread it more times than he bothered to count; one of few books he felt a need to read more than once. Taking a forkful of his scrambled eggs, he let himself sink deeper into the book.

8:30

His office usually was full of activity as staff ran in and out, wanting his opinions or signature on something. Dream had been forced to shoo multiple staff members out before his meeting with the director of the JR Orphanage.

“We need more money, my lord,” they said. They bowed down, and reached into their bag. They straightened. A thump was heard as a big stack of papers hit the desk’s surface. “After the children from the destroyed universe came there’s not enough of teachers.”

Quickly he browsed through the papers. They were accounts of the orphanage’s incomes and outgoings; necessities, fun activities for the children and staff, as well as the sizes of the classes. Nodding, Dream looked back at her.

“Of course,” he agreed, and they smiled relievedly. “I will see to it.”

9:45

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, NERD!”

Groaning loudly, Nightmare trashed as a pillow was pressed into his face. He waved his hands wildly, eventually managing to grab the arms keeping the pillow there. As he removed them and shook the pillow of his face, he found himself staring at the grinning faces of Cross and Error.

“Whyyy,” he moaned, stretching his arms over his head and glaring at them. It was too early for this. He really shouldn’t have stayed up past 2 in the fricking night to play videogames. Even as he glared at his now laughing friends, Nightmare couldn’t help but smile as they each held up a badly wrapped package.

“’cause it’s your birthday, nightlight, however old you are now,” Cross said gleefully, albeit slightly curiously. He shrugged. He’d stopped counting a good while ago. The only one who might know would be his brother. Dream probably knew how old they were, with how disturbingly organised he always had been.

The packages were placed on his bed, and he nodded quickly in thanks. As he quickly tore the paper into pieces he chuckled at Cross’ grimace as the ripping sound echoed through the room. Nightmare’s sockets widened as he held up his gifts. A book with pranks from Swapfell and the latest Mario Cart-game. His grin widened.

Awesome.

10:30

“how come i always loose?” Cross whined as he threw the controller into the couch. It bounced once. Exchanging a gaze, Nightmare and Error laughed.

“iT’s B-beCAuse YoU*re teRRibLe aT tH-thEm,” Error told him as the guardian loaded the game again.

“Let’s go again,” Nightmare said, already for what probably was the twentieth time this morning. Enthusiastic nods answered him.

11:15

Dream didn’t look up as the door was thrown open. Since the newcomer didn’t knock he already knew who it was. The scratching of his pen on paper and the classical music coming from the speakers was joined by heavy footsteps. As he signed a contract the chair on the other side of his desk squeaked and a loud thump signalled that the newcomer had sat down.

“You’re late,” he pointed out, still without looking up. As he added another few details on an email about the upcoming attack on negativity in a Flowerfell the other groaned loudly.

“That’s because you’re making me get up so early.”

“It’s almost noon, Ink,” Dream said flatly, and finally looked at the other. “I don’t know why you’ve been so lazy this week. Normally you would’ve been up a long time ago.”

Ink muttered something inaudible. For a short moment, he thought about asking what the other had said, but then he decided it wasn’t worth it. Most likely nothing of interest.

“Anyway,” he continued, opening a drawer and taking up an envelope with a TOP SECRET-stamp. He reached over the desk and Ink took it, interest finally showing in the objects his eyelights turned into. A star and an expression mark. “I’ve got a new target for you.”

“Ya got it, Boss.”

12:30

The entire kitchen smelled of tacos. Blinking, Nightmare stared at the countertops. They were all covered in tacos, burritos, nachos and every other Taco Bell-meal he could think of. The enthusiastic “ta-daa”’s coming from the other two made him chuckle. Cross threw an arm over his shoulder and pressed a skeleton kiss to his cheek.

Without a word, freed himself from the arm and went to fill up a plate.

14:40

“I said no.”

Dream turned his head over his shoulder and threw his closest employee a suspicious gaze as Ink growled into his phone in the background. He was looking quite irritated. With a sigh, Dream shook his head. Whatever what was going on there, he had no interest in getting involved. Why had he even taken in Ink with him here?

Instead he directed his attention back to the children in front of him. A toddler was once again trying to grab his wings, and with a smile he turned them physical. The excited gasp as the kid managed to tug the feathers made him let out a small chuckle.

The Orphanage was a bright place, filled with colours and laughter. As he waited for a staff member to get him, he watched the excited children who screamed for “Lord Dream, Lord Dream,” to “watch this!”. He applauded as a human girl made a somersault and she laughed.

A door opened, and a dragon monster appeared in the doorway. They looked worried as they waved for him to come. Carefully freeing himself from the kids, Dream followed the male through the hallways of the castle.

“This way, my lord,” the dragon said, voice soft and troubled. “She’s in a bad condition.”

“Don’t worry,” Dream told the other. “I will do what I can.”

The room he was lead to and then left in was dark. The lights were turned off. It was quiet except for a quiet sniffing. As he went in, though, it immediately lit up due to the light his wings always beamed with. A small monster sat in a corner, curled into a ball. She didn’t look up as he came in. With a sympathising smile, Dream went to kneel in front of her, letting his aura shine brightly in an attempt to comfort.

“Hello there, little one,” he whispered.

16:00

Balloons covered the entire floor and videogame soundtracks played loudly in the background. Cross stumbled over them, almost dropping the gigantic cake he was carrying into the floor. Blue strings caught him just in time, straightening both him and the cake up again. Nightmare snorted at the annoyed expression of Error’s face.

“h0nEStlY,” Error said, starting to shove the balloons into boxes. “Y-you*D be SO DeAd wi-wIHTout-Me.”¨

“no one’s denying it, buddy,” Cross pointed out as he put the cake down with a sigh of relief.

“I am!” Nightmare called in protest. “I survived hundreds of years before I met you two.”

“yeah but you didn’t break into your brother’s heavily guarded castle just to play obnoxious music before you met us.”

Nightmare went silent, narrowing his sockets as he stared at his friends. His shoulders sank as he nodded in defeat.

“Fine.”

19:45

Yawning, Dream made his way toward his private quarters. It had been a long day – as always – and now he looked forward to some calm and rest. Guards saluted him and staff greeted him as they met in the hallways and he nodded back. With a tired smile, he unlocked his door. For once he had managed to finish all work in time so he’d get to just enjoy himself for the rest of the evening.

As he opened the door, he rolled his shoulders to relieve them of some tension. Blinking, he stopped abruptly as he stared. His soul speeded slightly. So much for that calm and rest. The entire hall was covered in balloons and a giant cake was standing on a table.

“SURPRISE!” A familiar voice called, and Nightmare jumped out from behind the couch, followed by his two weird friends. Error cheered as well, if a bit more hesitantly, and Cross just glared viciously. Dream gaped at them.

“How did you get in?” he managed to ask, eyelights flickering between all the decorations. “With all of this?

With a wide grin, his twin pointed behind him. In the hallway behind Ink stood leaned toward the wall, legs and arms crossed. He waved slightly as Dream glared at him.

“They forced me. Every night. All week,” was all he said in explanation. “Happy birthday, Boss. Oh, and don’t call the guards please. This took an eternity to set up and I’d like to eat some cake before you have the organizers killed.”

Still gaping, Dream turned back to his ‘visitors’. Nightmare’s grin was just as smug as every time he’d managed to trick or surprise him during their childhood.

“C’mon, lil’ bro. Just this once and then you can go back to trying to kill me once our birthday is over.”

Dream blinked, trying to decide whether this was all some kind of trick or not. Yet, the expression on Nightmare’s face was as sincere as it ever got.  After a few moments of silence, he sighed.

“Fine. Only for tonight.”

“Great! So… how old are we again, Goldilocks?”

Letting out a groan, Dream shook his head in exasperation. He already regretted his decision.

21:00

High above them, two figures rested on the castle roof and watched them through the skylight. The music made the glass vibrate as the sun and sky covered them in the pastel light of sunset. The shorter of the two stared at the celebrating skeletons beneath them, scowling. He turned to his companion, or rather, his henchman.

“how come everyone’s invited except for us?” he asked, glaring through the window. His companion chuckled, and crossed his legs.

“Ya know it’s ‘cause everyone funking hates us, yo. Totes unrad but what can ya do?” he replied nonchalantly, a careless grin on his face.

Without another word, he took his glasses of his face and trailed the edges of the letters writing out YOLO with a phalange. The purple flickering of the now uncovered magic and the breaking soul would’ve made most uncomfortable. Yet Blueberry only threw him a slight glare in reply.

“that hurts, fresh, that hurts. it’s true, but you shouldn’t say it.” he said, tapping the glass lightly and pointing at the ones below accusingly. “and anyway, it’s very rude to invite everyone but one or two. that’s the first thing they teach you in kindergarten.”

“Ya speak th’ truth, homeslice.”

“i know i do, my frenchman.”

[savrenim]

Hey! Not sure if you answered this before, but what was your academic journey to grad school? Like in highschool did you take AP? Act/Sat? Did you need like A grades to get into college/uni? How's your undergrad years! What was your undergrad? If it's too personal/time consuming then you don't need to answer 🌸 but it would be really appreciated if you do! Good luck with all your studies! PS. I find kinship in the random anons on your blog. IDK why, but I guess it's like being in an egg carton.

No it’s fine, mostly my….academic journey is an outlier? like, it is by far above and beyond the things you need to succeed and get into grad school, and I have a lot of friends who didn’t have any sort of GPA or history like mine who are doing really well in grad school and have gotten into really good places.

I was a straight A student in grammar school and middle school; by the time I was in 8th grade, we got % grades instead of A, B, C, and I had a 99.875% but only because the 99 in math came from the fact that the teacher believed only Jesus was perfect so he didn’t give 100’s. My real percentage in math I believe was close to a 105, because I’d done a lot of extra credit.

I went to a private high school as well, pretty much entirely on scholarship, because my parents were paranoid about quality of education where I lived and I could. I tested out of Geometry despite the fact that I hadn’t taken it by bugging said 8th grade math teacher to give me a 2-month crash course, and then taking the Geometry Honors final from the prior year and getting….I think an 87? either way, it was enough to get me out of the course. I took AP classes the moment that I was allowed to; over my high school career, I took AP US History, AP European History, AP English Literature, AP English Language, and AP Calculus BC. I got 5’s on all of them. I also took the ACT and got 35/36 (and similar scores on all the subject tests…I think 1 34, counterbalanced by a 36?), although the ACT never really mattered to places I was applying. I was the closest thing our (non-competitive) fencing team had to a captain. I was in choir, and sometimes took on solo performances. I played fairly substantial roles in the musical every year. I also wrote a full draft of a novel that…I’ve still got, actually, and am trying to turn into an actual novel. I got straight A’s; I think my weighted GPA at the end of my high school career was a 4.63? 4.0 unweighted.

I’m also a high school dropout. Technically. But that was because I applied to college a year early, got in, got full scholarship, and the college said that they didn’t need a high school diploma or GED from me, so I went “peace” and then left home to go to college.

there was family drama going down at the same time and this was more a move to escape a hella abusive environment than me actually caring about going to college early, although also at the time I’d taken all of the math and physics classes my school had to offer, and didn’t want to spent senior year bored.

My first two years of college were fairly difficult for me because I was not aware of the fact that I was bipolar and started having more and more severe manic and depressive episodes, culminating in being hospitalized a week during spring semester of my sophomore year. You would not be able to tell any of this from my transcripts; while I was no longer getting straight A’s, it had gone down to an A- a semester, and I think a single B somewhere in there; my overall cumulative GPA was a 3.85. Still, I wasn’t particularly happy where I was at because it was small, in the middle of nowhere, and I’d just been through hell and wanted to start fresh, so I took my AA with highest distinction and applied to a whole bunch of transfer schools. I decided to go to the single one that gave me enough financial aid for that to be feasible.

(I am not going to say what my undergrad was, because I don’t like to post any sort of information on the internet that is specific enough for people to track me down. It was a very nice liberal artsy place.)

I stayed there for three years, as a combination of I wanted time to recover, I knew that I wanted to get into a hardcore serious graduate school and thus wanted professors to know me a lot better so that they could write letters of recommendation, and I wanted to properly joint-major in math and physics and needed the time to fit all of the classes in my schedule so that it would be slightly less hellish. Like, there was a semester where I was taking Real Analysis, Complex Analysis, Classical Mechanics, and Modern Physics — with a lab — and acting as a course tutor/ta for Dynamical Systems all at the same time. I wasn’t really “taking it easy.” But eh, whatever. I got straight A’s in every single math class I took, and I think….one B in physics, and a couple of A-’s sprinkled in sometimes, but otherwise straight A’s. I did research during the summers, published three papers in both math and physics, and presented at two conferences. And thus got into a couple pretty good grad schools and some nice fellowship offers and actually got to make a choice and I could not be happier with the place that I ended up.

Which, like, absolutely everything about my life story is so much overkill, please do not try to be like me, not only is it not necessary but it literally nearly killed me sometime in the middle there.

[exploringsocialinformatics]

Blog #2: Do Androids Dream Of Tenured Positions?

I wrote this in response to the article “Imagine How Great Universities Could Be Without All Those Human Teachers” by Allison Schrager and Amy Wang. I chose to write about it because of my background in education, because I feel like I really benefited a lot from the personal connections I made with my human professors in undergrad and also because I’m scared of robots.

I admit that the concept of AI does terrify me a little so I really had to reevaluate my anti-robot bias as I tried to figure out exactly where I stood in the fairly confusing lane between AI technology as a helpful assistant and AI technology as a terrifying force coming to steal jobs from professors. After careful consideration, though, I’ve come to a firm conclusion: not only should AI/automation in general not be wholesale replacing human labor, we don’t actually have to let it wholesale replace human labor. Inevitability sometimes only exists because we make something inevitable. The robots aren’t making themselves.

Or. . .I guess they kind of are, but--you know what I mean.

The choice to replace any job with AI technology instead of utilizing AI and adapting that job to both benefit the worker and to add more diverse tasks that couldn’t be accomplished by a machine is fundamentally a choice in favor of profit over people. I realize that it’s naive to think that major corporations or even universities might choose people over profit but, with the smallest percentage of hope I have left for the world, I know that it’s at least an option.

For example, the McKinsey Institute (not a group of folks who I would assume would be pushing for human decency) has laid out plans for the future of retail workers when automation is more of an established presence in their establishments. They reference already existing examples, writing, “Several grocers, for example, are creating new roles for in-store pickers and e-commerce distribution centers. [. . .] Meanwhile, McDonald’s has not only introduced table service in restaurants but also rolled out self-service ordering kiosks. Best Buy has pushed further into adjacent services, creating new customer-service roles in its In-Home Advisor and Total Tech Support programs and retraining employees for them” (Begley, Hancock). The ideal here is shifting labor, not replacing it.  

With all of that in mind, I feel compelled to take a moral stance here: this is less an issue of technology and more an issue of properly compensating employees. The human ones with skin and hearts and stuff, whose humanness is often a key factor of their job. And this is especially true of educators, whether K - 12 or higher education.

The notion that AI can replace professors just goes to show the fundamental disrespect that we as a society have for educators. This is something that we can see in how little they’re paid (especially adjuncts, who don’t nearly make enough to survive [Douglas-Gabriel]). It’s also ignoring the possibility of shifting their labor. This argument requires that we’re all on the same page that higher education should be about expanding knowledge: replacing the day to day work of grading or answering easily answerable questions with the help of AI, in an ideal world, wouldn’t mean job losses for TAs or potentially un-tenured professors. If universities properly focused their money (for example, focusing more on professors than administration [Lewis]), academics and robots could peacefully co-exist. Imagine a world where professors won’t have to worry about minutiae and instead have time to focus on research and writing and other things that are the reason they got into academia and that will actively make them better teachers. Imagine a world where TAs get real world experience actively helping with that research. Professors who have more time to work with students one on one! To write grants! To live more fulfilled and meaningful lives!

It’s exciting!

Again, naive and probably idealistic, especially considering that this would require universities to radically change their budgets. It would be also likely require more funding and more specified funding from the federal government for public universities. These are both very large feats.

In his paper Why Are There Still So Many Jobs? David H. Autor backs up my idyllic academic vision when he states that, on top of replacing labor, “automation also complements labor, raises output in ways that lead to higher demand for labor, and interacts with adjustments in labor supply” (2015). Essentially, the purpose of automation should be to make life easier for people, not to displace them.

There are a few significant arguments in favor of focusing more funds on AI in academic institutions that I find compelling, many of them focused on the students. On a base social level, I would probably have been more comfortable addressing a robot as an anxious undergrad than I would my professors and having a resource that would be available more frequently than a human could possibly be would be a comfort. Schrager and Wang explain the software created by the company Hobsons and how it can figure out demographics that might be struggling and use it to identify specific students that are close to dropping out. This is described as “granular,” (3) which is important--after all, professors are notably human. They can’t catch and parse small things like that, especially with crowded classrooms.

Another argument is that investing in technology that can directly help students and takes over the bulk of teaching saves money because you can hire fewer professors; ultimately, this could be worth the loss (7 - 8). If AI can do the menial labor behind teaching, why pay a human to do it when that requires a consistent salary and when the money could be used in ways that would more directly benefit--as was already mentioned--far more students than a single professor could reach? Kristin Houser writes, on the online publication Futurism, in regard to K - 12 teachers being replaced that “after the initial development costs, administrators wouldn’t need to worry about paying digital teachers. This saved money could then be used to pay for the needed updates to education facilities or other costs” (“The Situation to Our Education Crisis”), which seemingly supports the same claim about colleges. She also adds--and I find the idea that this technology would function so efficiently and without bias far more idealistic than anything I believe, but it’s still good to think about--that “digital teachers wouldn’t need days off and would never be late for work. Administrators could upload any changes to curricula [. . .] and the systems would never make mistakes. If programmed correctly, they also wouldn’t show any biases toward students based on gender, race, socio-economic status, personality preference, or other consideration” (Houser). These are all certainly elements that could positively impact education if they functioned well enough.

Even with both sides of the coin, though, there’s some evidence that the coin itself is less relevant than we think. There have been several studies which point out that automation isn’t killing off manufacturing jobs at nearly the rate that people have been expecting. Jared Bernstein, former chief financial advisor to Vice President Joe Biden, wrote in the Washington Post that the sharp decline in manufacturing jobs after 2000 had more to do with trade than it did automation (“Contrary to Popular Wisdom”). This was also a contentious moment in a Democratic Primary debate last fall between Senator Elizabeth Warren and entrepreneur Andrew Yang, with the former supporting Bernstein’s claim and the latter supporting the issues with automation. According to Politifacts, both the candidates were effectively right (Greenberg). So, essentially, this isn’t to say that automation isn’t part of the problem, it’s just that the situation is likely not as dramatic as economists and others have made it out to be.

Also, there certainly aren’t clear indicators that automation will be taking over academia specifically anytime soon. To say otherwise seems unnecessarily fear-inducing. As I said, though, I might be naive. Maybe college professors and TAs should be stocking up on whatever weapons are most effective against a robot uprising (. . .water?) or at least updating their resumes. If this does become a trend, though, I sincerely hope that the inherent value of good, earnest, sentient human educators is considered. As someone who primarily took undergrad classes in the humanities, the lived experiences of a professor often go hand in hand with their own education to make them more effective at relating to students. Giving up a fully realized, authentic education just for a more efficient one isn’t worth it.

Resources

Autor, D. H. (2015). Why Are There Still So Many Jobs? The History and Future of Workplace Automation. Journal of Economic Perspectives, 29(3), 3–30.

Begley, S, Hancock, B. (n.d.). Automation in retail: An executive overview for getting ready. Retrieved from https://www.mckinsey.com/industries/retail/our-insights/automation-in-retail-an-executive-overview-for-getting-ready

Bernstein, J. (2018, July 12). Contrary to popular wisdom, automation is not a job killer in U.S. manufacturing. Retrieved from https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/posteverything/wp/2018/07/12/contrary-to-popular-wisdom-automation-is-not-a-job-killer-in-u-s-manufacturing/

Douglas-Gabriel, D. (2019, February 15). 'It Keeps You Nice and Disposable': The Plight of Adjunct Professors. The Washington Post. Retrieved from https://www.washingtonpost.com/local/education/it-keeps-you-nice-and-disposable-the-plight-of-adjunct-professors/2019/02/14/6cd5cbe4-024d-11e9-b5df-5d3874f1ac36_story.html

Greenberg, J. (2019, October 16). What's the Manufacturing Job Killer, Automation or Trade? . Retrieved from https://www.politifact.com/article/2019/oct/16/both-trade-and-automation-hurt-and-helped-jobs-whi/

Houser, K. (2018, January 17). The solution to our education crisis might be AI. Retrieved from https://futurism.com/ai-teachers-education-crisis

Lewis, N. (2017, February 17). U.S. Colleges: Where Does The Money Go? Retrieved from https://www.forbes.com/sites/nathanlewis/2017/02/17/u-s-colleges-where-does-the-money-go/

Schrager, A., & Wang, A. X. (2017, September 27). Imagine how great universities could be without all those human teachers. Retrieved from https://qz.com/1065818/ai-university/

[littleindigochildx]

Savvy and Zee: pt 2

Savanna arched a brow as the woman spoke. Who was this Lilith Zelda was speaking of, and why was her name so terrifying? “You are in Limbo... That’s where I live.” The seven year old tried to explain. “This is my house. I live here with my mommy and my big brother, Timmy. Sometimes my daddy stays here too when he an’ mommy are gettin’ along.” Victoria and Declan had a complicated relationship. It seemed Declan had his hopes set on getting back together once he was released from prison, but Vic knew it was no longer a possibility. They’d keep it civil for the children, but it was time for them to close this chapter of their lives. Working things out was no longer an option. That ship had sailed and no amount of sweet talking (coming mostly from DC) was going to change things.

Now that some of Zelda’s questions were answered, Savanna had some of her own to ask. “Who’s Lilith?” She looked up at the curly haired woman with her bright blue eyes. “Ya said...What in Lilith’s terrifyin’ name...Who is she an’ why is her name so terrifyin’?” The seven year old furrowed her brow. “Does she live where you do?” Savanna’s eyes widened. Until now she had completely overlooked the fact that magic was real. It had to be, otherwise Zelda would be stuck on the pages of her new notepad. She wouldn’t be standing in the child’s bedroom.

“Zelda...Where did ya come from? Where is yer home?” Savvy asked. She took notice of the woman’s features and how they softened. Zelda Spellman was a hard woman to read. Savanna still couldn’t figure out whether or not she was evil. She wanted to believe her new friend was a good person (or witch), but there was something about her that made Savvy cautious of her. Perhaps she could be dangerous, but Savanna didn’t think she was there to cause any physical harm to herself or the rest of the Deschaine family. “How long do ya think ya get’a stay here?” The little brunette quipped.

Savanna wasn’t aware of it at the time, but Zelda had been sent there with a purpose. She was there to save Limbo from something unexpected...Something the seven year old didn’t see coming yet. Zelda was their savior, but neither one of them knew it yet.

“If yer gonna hang out in Limbo for a while...We’re gonna need ta get ya some regular clothes.” Savvy loved Zelda’s clothing, but it definitely wouldn’t help her blend in in such a small town. Victoria probably had something that would fit the witch, but their taste in clothing was definitely different. “Want me ta find ya somethin’...Or can ya use magic?” She still didn’t know how all of this worked. She only had Harry Potter to reference, and she wasn’t sure how accurate those movies were to Zelda’s world.

---------------

With all the excitement of Zelda’s arrival, Savanna completely overlooked the fact that she had school in the morning. Her day started at 3am, so by the time Victoria came in to officially wake her, the seven year old was exhausted. “Get dressed, butterfly. We can’t be late today.” Vic told her youngest before heading to Timothy’s bedroom to wake him. Zelda’s presence was still unknown to Victoria. Savanna thought it was best to wait until after school to introduce her new friend to her mother.

“I forgot I have’ta go ta school….” Savanna groaned. “Yer gonna have’ta stay here an’ wait for me. Ya can’t come cause school isn’t for grown ups... Not unless yer’a teacher.” The seven year old explained. She was less than thrilled about having to leave, especially when she was so exhausted, but she knew Victoria wouldn’t let her stay home. Not when they just got back from winter break.

“Unless…” The little one smirked as she brushed her messy hair from her eyes. “...I got’an idea!” The wheels were turning in her overactive mind. “...Do ya trust me?” Savanna asked with a mischievous expression. She was definitely cooking up something. “Ya might need’a use some magic though.” The little brunette warned. In order for her plan to work, Zelda would need to make it to Palm Valley Elementary and she would need to play along with the plan Savanna was about to share with her.

“Mommy won’t let me take the day off, but if you came ta school ta pick me up…” Savvy’s grin widened. “We can tell um yer my-- my aunt.” This is where Zelda’s magic would come into play. Savanna knew the school would try to contact Victoria to make sure the woman picking her daughter up was actually family. Zelda would need to intercept the call and forge a note in Vic’s handwriting so Savvy could get out of class. “I’m gonna need yer help for this, and we need’a make sure I’m back before the busses come. If I don’t come home with Timmy, my mommy is gonna be very worried.”

Savanna proceeded to tell Zelda her plan in further detail. The goal was to skip most of the school day so she could show Zelda around Limbo… Maybe even get to take a peek into the witch’s world… If that was even possible. As long as she was back on time, Savvy didn’t see how anything could possibly go wrong. It wasn’t like she’d miss much in terms of work. This week was more about reviewing older material and catching up on work than it was learning. Who cared if the seven year old missed a day? Savanna certainly didn’t.

---------------

An hour later, the little brunette finished getting ready and was off to the bus stop to head to school. Zelda knew what she was supposed to do. Savanna hoped she’d follow through with it. She was stuck in a world she was unfamiliar with and the only person who knew who she was, was a 2nd grader. What other options did Zelda really have? Clearly she was there for a reason and getting home meant fulfilling whatever request Savanna was about to ask of her. They went over it a dozen times before the little girl left. Zelda was to pick her up for a dentist appointment at 9am. The forged note would do the trick since the handwriting was an exact match to Victoria’s, and the number provided would go directly to Zelda if the school had any questions.

---------------

Savvy watched the clock. Each minute passed more slowly than the last. The seven year old was nervous… Not because she didn’t think this was going to work, but because she was worried they might not make it back in time for her to catch the bus home with Timothy. That wasn’t the only thing she had to worry about though.

While she was getting ready for school, Timothy wandered into her room and took the notepad she forgot to hide again. He needed paper for a school assignment and Savvy always had more than one notebook laying around. He didn’t see the harm in borrowing one. What he didn’t realize was the power it held. It looked like an ordinary notebook. The only thing that made it special was the fact that it had Savanna’s name on it. Timmy shoved it into his book bag without her knowledge, making a mental note to return it when he got home. He only needed a couple pieces and he knew she wouldn’t miss them.

---------------

The classroom telephone rang at 9 o’clock on the dot. It was the front office asking the teacher to send Savanna down with her belongings. Whether she’d be back or not was unclear, so they didn’t want her to leave her things behind. “Good luck at the dentist, Savvy.” Her teacher said as she handed the child a hall pass and sent her on her way. This was actually going to work. The little girl thought to herself as she made her way down the hall. She could already see Zelda sitting in the lobby, ready to sign her out. “Aunt Zee!” Savanna grinned, playing along with the story they made up. She needed to make it believable. “I’m ready when you are.” She told the curly haired woman.

So there were no similarities other than their eye color, but Zelda’s performance was good enough that no one questioned her relationship to the Deschaine’s.

Once Savanna had been properly signed out, she and Zelda were free to go. They had to be careful wandering around town since Limbo was small and the odds of running into someone Savvy knew were high. “Maybe we should start with you showin’ me where you live.” The little girl said. She wasn’t even sure if that was feasible. If it was… Would Zelda be taking orders from a child? “Do ya know how ta get back home?” Savanna’s expression softened hoping Zee wouldn’t be stuck in Limbo forever. That was not her intention when she created the witch in her imagination. She didn’t know something like this would happen.

---------------

While Zelda and Savanna were contemplating what to do with their day, Timmy was still in class. The students were assigned the task of coming up with their own creative story. The eight year old pulled Savvy’s notebook out of his book bag and opened it to a blank page. “A creative story…” He spoke softly to himself. Timothy inherited the creative gene from Victoria, just like Savanna, but coming up with stories didn’t come to him as naturally as they did for his little sister. “Maybe if I draw’a picture…” Sometimes it was easier to come up with a story when he had a visual, so Timmy began to draw.

---------------

“What is that?” Savanna asked as her blue eyes widened. The sky ahead of them was getting dark and rain in Limbo was rare. “Zelda…Look.” She pointed out. The clouds were an ominous grey, like a storm was coming, but it wasn’t exactly a storm they were headed for. It was a creature from Timothy’s imagination. Everything he put down on paper was starting to come to life. He had no idea of the danger he was putting the town in. “Is that--” Savvy began. For the first time in a long time she was actually scared. She had seen this beast before but she couldn’t remember where. In her dreams? In a movie? ...That’s when it finally hit her. “--The mind flayer!” The seven year old gasped. “He’s real?” Savvy questioned in disbelief. How was all of this possible? The mind flayer was a fictional monster from a show she and Timothy had seen on Netflix. How did it end up in Limbo?

“We got’a stop it, Zee.” The little brunette told her. “We need’a stop it before anyone gets hurt.” Savanna didn’t know if Zelda had the strength or the power to fight such a creature, but they had to try. It wasn’t in her nature to back down from a fight. She was a Deschaine. Fighting back was in her blood.

“We’re not gonna be able ‘ta do this alone. I think we’re gonna need some help…” Savvy spoke again after a few minutes. She had an idea. “We need’a go back ‘ta my house. We need’a get my notebook.” She didn’t know it was with her brother, but her reasoning was simple. If the notebook she drew in brought Zelda back to life, surely it had to work again. Maybe she could draw up a creature powerful enough to defeat the mind flayer (Timmy’s version of it) before it destroyed the whole town. “We’re gonna need some’a yer magic.” The seven year old’s eyes met Zelda’s briefly. “Do ya know anyone who can help us?” As brave as she tried to be, she was worried. This wasn’t the world she was familiar with and she wasn’t going to be able to save Limbo without Zelda’s help.