#i also have what i’ve heard to be one of the most difficult classes my school has to offer first period of the day

[expired-lemonade]

today is the first day of the marching season!! no idea why there’s a football game a week before school even starts

[art]

Creator Spotlight: @jdebbiel

Deb JJ Lee is a non-binary Korean artist based in Brooklyn, NY. They have appeared in the New Yorker, New York Times, NPR, Google, Radiolab, and more. Their award-winning graphic memoir, IN LIMBO, about mental illness and difficult relationships with trauma, released in March 2023 from First Second.

Below is our interview with Deb!

Have you ever had an art block? If so, how did you overcome it?

That implies I am over my art block, but I’m still in it! I think about Kiki’s Delivery Service a lot and how she had to stop doing a thing, and that you can’t really force it, and you have to let it come back to you. It’s a pretty humbling moment, realizing there is more to life than just drawing. I’ve been trying to consume other content like reading or watching movies—anything that is not drawing-related—and to trust that it will come back to me. I think not being afraid to do the small pieces before committing to the big pieces is helpful. Because big pieces are what I am known for, I dig myself into a deeper hole, thinking that each piece has to be bigger than the last one. So yeah! Relaxing and doing the small things before overcommitting to a big piece is the best way to go about it for me.

Which 3 famous artists (dead or alive) would you invite to your dinner party?

I feel like these are all artists that I have second-degree connections with! Jillian Tamaki, Victo Ngai, and Tillie Walden would be my picks!

What are your file name conventions?

…What file name conventions? I mean, I don’t have specific file name conventions, but I actually have a public Google Drive archive! But I usually put “djjl_whatever-the-title-is_final,” and I would always know it’s the final and legit version.

What is a recent creative project that you are proud of?

I did an illustration for the whiskey brand Johnnie Walker. It’s so wild because I only had four days to finish it, and it usually takes me a week and a half if I rush. And honestly, it’s probably one of my best pieces from this year, which is funny. It was for the Mid-Autumn festival, so I made it as Korean as possible.

How has technology changed the way you approach your work?

I only use my iPad to draw everything now, and if I want to pretend that I have a steady workstation, I’ll use my Cintiq. I still am not as comfortable on the Cintiq as I am on Procreate, but it’s still pretty solid and nice. That’s the good part about technology. The bad part about technology is how AI art has been messing things up for me. I’m currently in a lawsuit about AI art as a class rep. Some of my stuff got turned into AI art late last year, so I have to give a deposition at some point. 

What is a convention experience that has stuck with you?

Honestly, they’re all good! I feel like Lightbox Expo has been really nice because it’s truly been a convention for artists. I feel like that’s where most of my audience is, and they’re all around because their purpose is to be better at art. That’s where a lot of original artists do well because they’re getting art they’re inspired by, not so much fanart. I like the Lightbox Expo because it encompasses the pure love of art very well. 

Top tips on setting up an Artist Alley booth?

Use a Y axis, not just your X axis! Take advantage of it! Branding is also something to think about. It is definitely something I’m getting better at. Having an assistant is also very important. I’ve also heard that 8.5x11 to 12x18 inches is usually a good size for prints, but I also provide postcard-sized prints because sometimes people don’t want to commit to a larger size. 

Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?

You know this is so funny. I’ve been following @alicexz for over a decade on Tumblr and other platforms. I’ve followed her work since high school, and we’ve only recently become peers. I found her, and we met for the first time in real life, and she recognized me. And then I found all my drawings from when I was in my Alice phase, back in high school, and I was like, “Yo, this is when I was trying to be you so badly!” and she was cracking up and was like “Wow, this is so good!” It was such a sweet moment. I wanted to take a picture of her holding my drawing up. It’s really nice because now we’re peers.

Thank you so much for stopping by and sharing, Deb! Be sure to check out their Tumblr blog over at @jdebbiel.

[writingwithcolor]

Representing Biracial Black South American Experiences…Through a White/Asian Mixed Race Character in Europe

@colombinna asked:

I have a YA story that's in very early development - pre-alpha, if you will. For now what I have developed is the characters: one of the MCs is a biracial asian queer girl (her dad is thai-american and japanese, her mom's white), she has a medium/dark brown skin, and lives in a very white context in a fictional European country. The contact she has with her extended family is limited to phone calls and regular visits because her dad moved from the US to said fictional European country.

I'm a biracial black queer girl myself, living in a very white community in South America, my extended black family also lives in a different place, and I'm taking a lot of my experiences of being not white and queer whilst living in white communities into her story (the feeling of not belonging, the impostor syndrome, standing out as one of the only POC kids in class, etc) and thinking back to what I've heard asian friends and classmates say about their experiences in the same school/community context as mine. But I want to know how different her experiences as a dark-skinned asian girl would differ from mine and my friends' in a similar context (white community, small number of other asian people - and POC in general - in the social circles, and limited contact to her extended family), and what experiences could make sense if the character was biracial black like myself, but won't if she's biracial asian.

Why not write a biracial Black girl if those are the experiences you want to represent? 

This MC is straddling, like, 3 different cultures. Having multiple immigrant identities in not-Europe is not the same experience as being Black in South America; while both are complex minority experiences, there are too many differences in intersections and histories to compare. Not to mention, it really depends on what European culture(s) you’re basing your not-Europe on. 

I think you’ll find that the written result will ring much more genuine and rich in depth if you either translate your experiences more directly or pick a more narrow focus, instead of assuming that there is a universal for racism and colorism against biracial people that is transferable across contexts. Because there isn’t. There can be overlaps, but if you’re looking to cover the entire range of What It’s Like in general, it won’t work.

This isn’t to say that people can’t use other identities to write about specific experiences of their own, but in this case you need to think about what story you want to tell and what your reasons are. Marika’s commentary will go more into when and how this can be done effectively. 

Also, if the point is to make her a dark-skinned Asian, as a white/asian mix myself, I implore you: why must you make her 1/4 Japanese and 1/2 white? Even with the Thai ethnicity thrown in, Thai people very much range in skin tone and have their own domestic issues with colorism. It’s not impossible for dark-skinned examples of your MC’s ethnic makeup to exist, but still I don’t recommend it for two reasons: 

It's going to make researching people whose experiences fit that much more difficult. Most experiences of colorism, othering, and other forms of discrimination that mixed white asians tend to face are completely different from mixed race asians who tend to have darker skin & features.

There's enough Japanese & white mixed Japanese rep in the Asian rep sphere as is. Consider that this individual could be mixed Asian (not Japanese) with something else (not white)! 

But again, think over your motivations. I’ll spare you the copy/paste of our Motivations PSA, but re-read it and consider. Why do you wish to write a mixed Asian character to tell the story of your experiences as a mixed Black individual instead of a mixed Black character? What does it add to the story? Is it an effective vessel for the experiences you want to convey? 

~ Rina

I think Rina brings up some good points here: I’m not hearing a lot of specificity in your query. As you doubtless know firsthand, the more intersectional and complex an identity, the more of a chance the identity may come with unexpected baggage and nuances that fly in the face of what is common sense for less intersectional identities. This can make writing such characters challenging just because there is so much choice on which identity themes to emphasize. 

I once spent about 15 minutes explaining to a person the thought process I used to determine when I could wear jeans depending on which country I was living in as a mixed race person who is perceived as different things in different places. It might seem trivial, but it’s actually very important to me for the purposes of identity, safety and gender presentation, so I personally think it’s interesting. But will my readers think a character’s multi-page internal monologue on whether or not to wear jeans is especially compelling? Does the writer-version of me want to research the version of myself musing on my specific jeans conundrum to that extent? Or do I want to talk about other things related to attire a lot of other people would relate to? I think those are all YMMV questions, but hopefully, they provide some perspective that will help you be intentional about how you might want to tackle something potentially very time-consuming.

When I say intentional, I mean that when covering a complex identity with which you are peripherally familiar, it will always be more effective and easier to use it to tell a specific story extremely clearly than to be extremely broad in scope and try to include almost everything about your own experiences, especially because some of those experiences might not be as relevant for your character’s background as they are to yours.      

One of my favorite childhood picture books is written and illustrated by a Nikkei writer-illustrator team. The book is titled Ashok by Any Other Name (link). The story features a desi child growing up in the US who wishes he had an American name his friends and teachers wouldn’t think was strange. It covers how being othered for his name makes him feel, and how he copes with that feeling. Speaking as someone both Japanese and desi, I think through the plot device of names perceived by the majority of Americans as foreign, this book aptly shows how many immigrant/diaspora creators are capable of relating to the pressures of assimilation experienced by other immigrant, even if the creator, the audience and the story’s subject’s backgrounds all don’t completely overlap 100%. 

There will be aspects of your Blackness, mixed identity, skin color, sexuality and living in a local community lacking diversity as a member of many minority groups that you will find resemble/ resonate with the experiences of mixed-race, Japanese individual in a Europe-themed setting, and I think any story that leans into those themes will be considerably easier for you to research. In other words, instead of asking us “How does my experience differ?” I would approach this issue by deciding what narrative you want to show about your own experience and then research the specific contexts within which your desired story overlaps with elements of mixed-race Japanese experiences. 

- Marika.

[exhaustedcatte]

Detention, boys!

“–pair of troublemakers, they are,” Pomona Sprout wailed. “I know it was them, but there’s no way to prove it.”

Minerva, who’d just walked in, already knew who the offending duo could be. “Potter and Black?”

“Potter and Black,” she confirmed. “Charmed all of my Mandrakes to sing! Sing! Can you believe it?!”

A smile unwillingly pulled on the Gryffindor House-head’s mouth.

“What did they sing?” Professor Sinistra asked curiously.

Pomona ducked, shy. “I didn’t recognize the song, but Ms Bones said it was a muggle band called—ehem.” She cleared her throat and whispered, “The Sex Pistols.”

Minerva suppressed a loud guffaw, forced it back down her throat, and allowed a small grimace. Sinistra had no objections, laughing cheerfully.

“I bet you that was all Lupin,” she said, still grinning. “I’ve heard him giving gospels on muggle music with such ardor, you’d have thought he was being paid to advertise.”

Minerva didn’t know muggle music, but she knew her boys. This prank definitely had their signature on it, not just the handle on magic, but the careless display of talent.

Charming those noisy crybaby Mandrakes was no easy feat.

“I’ll hand out detention for the weekend,” Minerva said easily. “Potter and Black for the frontline work, Lupin for definitely pointing them towards the charms and Pettigrew for stealing all of your Mandrakes,” she raised her brows.

Pomona sighed, smiling.

The thing was, it was easy to detain them for smaller, localised pranks. It had their magical imprint all over it. While they had stepped into juvenile delinquency and thrown dung bombs, most of their practical jokes were, well, practical. Neatly studied and practiced. Difficult charms and jinxes. Hexes that Minerva had almost forgotten about since her own school days.

They’d made the suit of armours duel outside the Defence classroom, transfigured every single notebook in their class into origami birds, charmed it to fly away and got them all let off class. Hexed the Slytherins to speak in haikus for two full days. They’d also frozen the Lake into an ice rink in the cusp of summer post-exams. Pranks against which Finite Incantatem were useless. They put a lot of effort into their jokes, which somehow turned out just as remarkable as their neglected schoolwork.

But she’d given them many cauldrons and trophies and broom closets to clean for all of those, because she knew only they could be responsible for such intelligent tomfoolery.

What was difficult to pin on them was larger, vastly spread magic, because their trace was faint when it was distributed wide, mingling with everyone else’s magic. In theory she would put all her money on it being the Marauders, but she couldn’t simply accuse them when no one had seen them out of bed, no misbehaving, nothing. Very mystifying.

Which was why she was effectively silenced when she walked into the Great Hall on Tuesday. Everything seemed fine at first, but then she noticed, after hearing the excited tittering.

The Slytherins were emerald green. Minerva almost marched down to the quartet – the rivalry was telling. But she glanced around and saw the Hufflepuffs drenched in yellow. The Ravenclaws and Gryffindors were not spared either, dyed in their own house colours.

Minerva peered down her table. The other professors were trying to puzzle out how this had been achieved. She was silently proud that they kept glancing at the four boys on the far end, as if trying to read the answer straight from their brains. They knew no one else was capable of such advanced magic while still being playful.

Minerva looked over to them.

The Marauders were maintaining a strong air of ignorance despite the obvious looks being thrown their way from students and teachers alike.

Remus was stirring his likely fourth sugar into his tea, while Sirius kept nibbling the untouched toast from his friend’s hand. James was roughing his hair up and laughing at something Peter was whispering into his ear. They were also painted a vibrant red, probably as an alibi.

“I know it’s them,” Dumbledore said lowly, eyes dancing with mirth. “But I do think it’s rather spectacular, don’t you agree, professor?”

She huffed a laugh. “Yes.”

It was hard to tack this on them, not when Potter and Black, who despite knowing magic straight out of the womb, would vehemently deny everything and call it a fluke of someone’s luck. Not when Lupin, a severely clever werewolf who often downplayed his own intellect, would disagree politely and be off in that quiet way of his. Not when Pettigrew, the most unassuming and yet the sneakiest of them all, would lie impressively through his teeth.

She sat back and sipped her tea, enjoying the humorous sight of the bright morning sun reflecting off of the colourful skins of her students. But mostly she was observing her band of troublemakers.

They were still hanging off of each other’s shoulders like limpets, clingy and supremely codependent, in the best possible way. She watched Sirius proof-read a parchment Peter had given him. Remus was feeding James his scones and cream, who was trying, futilely, to tame his hair with a bottle of Fleamont’s Hair Gel that had just arrived with the owls.

These idiot boys, she thought fondly.

There would be no way to prove it was them other than their excited footsteps and victorious laughter that echoed through her office later that day.

Minerva McGonagall stepped into the hallway, unable to tamp down the pride in her voice when she called out, “Detention, boys!”

[wanderingswampbeast]

Long Post: Why I Don’t Like The Drow

I’ve been ranting about this to a friend on discord (a lot of points I make will come from him) but I’ve finally figured out what my issue with the drow is outside of inherently evil groups being dumb.

The drow are boring. Drow lore is less of a dive into a unique culture and more of a list of fucked up things they do. Like, I cannot name a single interesting aspect of typical drow society that does not directly involve murder, sexism, or slavery, or Lolth. And even then, most of those things are written about in an incredibly bland fashion with them.

The Drow don’t really have much depth to them, and are just kind of evil for evil’s sake (or “because Lolth said so”). They do slavery, but the only real purpose of doing slavery for them is “because Lolth said so”. It isn’t for cheap labor, it’s to be more evil. They betray each other purely because that’s what evil people do. They’re misandrist, not for any real societal reason, but because Lolth hates men. There’s none of what would make slavery an interesting topic or story element, no justification for why they should be allowed to commit one of the worst injustices possible, no real economic reason for it. They just do it because Lolth says they should, and from a writing perspective it hammers home the fact that they’re evil. They aren’t evil because they enslave and murder, they enslave and murder because they’re evil, if that makes any sense.

Them being written as comically evil as they are also hurts them from a worldbuilding perspective. They’re so reliant on slaves for menial labor that the lower class of their society struggle to get jobs. Drow culture so obsessed with betrayal and dumbass house wars that even when actively under attack from the outside they sabotage each other. They’re so decadent that their buildings are held up with magic and semi regularly collapse when a spell fails. To put it bluntly, drow society feels like one that should have collapsed in a few centuries, which, funnily enough, is way longer than D&D elves live.

Their culture being so monolithic also makes writing anything about them difficult. Every drow antagonist is going to have near identical motivations, methods, and ideologies as every other drow antagonist. Every drow protagonist is going to ultimately feel very similar to Drizzt, because leaving their fucked up society to become a do-gooder is such a common backstory element that they added a whole extra god just for doing that. In fact, you can divide 90% of drow characters from any official materials into these categories:

Manservant

Ambitious male, usually a wizard (5 bucks says he has long hair and a widow’s peak)

Dommy Mommy Warcrime Woman

Drizzt Do’Urden or one of his many duplicates

Self-loathing and/or resentful Drider

And finally, their existence almost purely to be humanoid enemies you can fight at nearly any levels is just kind of lazy. This is a problem that I have with the “evil races” of a lot of fantasy but having a group that’s evil by birth just feels like an excuse to not have to write actual motivations for your antagonists. It’s the difference between “go attack this camp of soldiers because they’re part of the SkullMurder army and their general wants to use our land to build a dread fortress” vs “go attack this camp of soldiers specifically because they’re drow/goblins/orcs/the dreaded peepee-poopoo folk”. Using stuff like this just feels like an excuse to not have to write an actual antagonist since it comes pre-written in the group’s lore. This has the side effect of whenever such a group is the antagonist of the plot, the players or audience know near exactly what to expect. The orc is here to conquer, the goblin is here to steal, and the drow is here to enslave or do some dark ritual.

I’ve legitimately heard people say “well if XYZ can’t be inherently evil anymore, who will we use as bad guys?” It’s very simple: whoever the fuck we want. Write an evil queen, or a scheming wizard, or an underground slave trade network. For God’s sake, anyone can be evil, you don’t need to tie that to a specific ethnic group and write it as “they’re just like that”. Write an actual character for your antagonist.

[zriasstuff]

Tutoring lessons pt.1- Blaise Zabini x reader

In which you and Blaise get to know each other on a deeper level, which you never expected.

To be honest, I don’t know how to characterize Blaise at all, and all the “Slytherin Boys react” that I read always barely have any Blaise in it, so just run with it :’)

There will be a pt.2 with smut too, just see this as setting the scene.

“Can we please just take a break”, Blaise annoyingly asks you for the thousandth time. It’s as if he was a little child who couldn’t focus for more than 10 minutes.

“No, we just need to go through one more question, then we can take a break”, you tell him, but that answer doesn’t seem to satisfy him.

One reason why this was so difficult for him is that he never did his own work in class. Hence, concentrating didn’t exactly come easy to him. The only reason for which Blaise was even passing, was him paying other people to do his work for him. It was something you could never imagine yourself doing.

So, you would think that when he asked you to tutor him, he actually started to care about school, but quite the opposite apparently. His behavior made you believe it was all just some elaborate joke by him.

It wasn’t merely today, you’d been doing this for weeks already and there seemed to be no progress at all. You started wondering whether the problem was you or him.

As you tried your best to explain the last question to him, he rolled his eyes resentfully, and signaled clearly to you that he wasn’t paying attention anymore. His head was tiresomely hanging from his shoulders, and he sighed as you went on and on about stuff he doesn’t care about.

“You got that?”, you check up on him occasionally, fearing that this was all just for nothing again.

“Uh-huh”, he responds in annoyance. It was the most unconvincing thing you ever heard. He could at least try to sound interested.

With the amount of time that had passed, in which he cared so little, you finally couldn’t take it anymore. Here you were, making sure a fellow classmate would pass his finals, and he was being nothing but ungrateful.

You shut the textbook promptly, which creates a loud banging noise, and look at the utterly unmotivated person sitting next to you.

“Could you please just try for a second because I’m starting to doubt you’d understand what we’re learning about, even if you tried”, you spurt out. The words coming from your mouth spilled out uncontrollably, it was like all your repressed inner thoughts were finally being said out loud.

“I’m really trying my hardest here, to make you understand and I’ve been getting nothing from you for weeks”, you continued your confrontation, although you started sounding a little desperate at this point. You keep looking at him intensely, while also coming off as extremely frustrated.

Blaise, after being shocked at first by your sudden frustration that you let out on him in a rather unfriendly way, counters with the same attitude right away.

“Listen, I know you think grades are the most important shit, but they’re not. I’m good at other things, and maybe I don’t want to work with you because you suck at explaining.”, he spits at you, gradually raising his voice.

Having said that, he actually got up, ready to leave the library altogether. Not that you minded, but something about this interaction felt unfinished. He still had to explain certain things to you, so you stop him in his tracks by following him and demanding him to stay.

“Just leave me alone, will you”, he sighs loudly, back still turned to you. “And you’re definitely fired”, he adds, quickly turning around and glancing at you as he’s saying that.

“S- Seriously?", you are stunned by his behavior. “How mature of you by the way, you’re firing me?”, you continue, mocking him along the way. “It’s not my fault you’re so stupid and slow, I mean it’s not like anyone else will have patience with you. So yeah, have fun failing”

Blaise finally fully turns to you again and opens his mouth for a second, but no words come out. Not sure what he was feeling, you suddenly start to feel a pit in your stomach building. Maybe you’d gone too far. You could’ve definitely expressed that in a nicer, more constructive way.

You were the only people left in the library, it was late. Perhaps that’s why this interaction felt like it was ages long.

Finally, after what seems like hours of just standing face to face without saying anything, you decide it was time to be the bigger person. Blaise certainly didn’t seem like he was ready to break the ice.

Innerly you know what you said before was uncalled for, but nonetheless every fight is a two person job.

“I- I’m sorry”, you begin, “what I said was uncalled for, and just out of frustration. I just, I just want to know that my tutoring is actually helping, you know.” You notice your voice getting more quiet as you go on, but as you were standing so close he must’ve still heard.

“You know I asked you to tutor me because McGonagall was on my ass, not because I actually cared”, he states.

“I kinda figured after the first few sessions”

Another moment of quietness passes before he goes on.

“At the start I actually wanted to do good, to prove I’m not as incompetent as everyone thinks I am”, he confesses honestly. This was the first time Blaise actually sounded genuine about something, it made you want to get to know him more.

“But after a while, I realized I was in fact hopeless and stupid-”

“Don’t say that”, you try to comfort him swiftly. It was dreadful when people said those hurtful things about themselves, but you know you and your earlier outburst were at fault here too.

“No it’s true, you just said it, don’t try to deny it”

Now you feel even worse. You never wanted to make him feel this bad about himself, and no one should ever think so low of themselves either. In the past, you also had plenty of self deprecating thoughts about yourself, but you tried your best to wash those away. Along the way you realized that you were so much better of a person than you’d ever given yourself credit for.

Quickly, you try to come up with something to make him feel better, but you're afraid you have ruined it. So, honestly, you tell him that you’re sorry and don’t know what to say. Whoever said “honesty is the best policy” better be damn right now you think.

Blaise pondered for a moment, but appeared to enjoy the honesty after all. Same as you, he decided to own up to his faults too.

“It’s not your job to make me feel better, besides I haven’t been the best student either. It just sucks having everyone think you’re the worst”

Slowly, you feel the tension completely dissolving between you two. Communicating was the key after all. Now you knew exactly what to say to Blaise.

“I know it sucks, and you can ignore what I said. But what I can give you as advice is that it’s your mindset that’s holding you back”

“What do you mean?”, he questions, raising an eyebrow at you, not fully understanding yet.

“You keep getting dragged down by all the negativity, so much that you started to give up on yourself too. It’s like you know you’re going to fail, so you don’t even try.”

“So you’re saying I should just believe in myself”, he asks to make sure he got what you said, also seeming rather unimpressed.

“Look, I know it sounds basic, but it’s true, no?”

As he’s thinking about what you said, Blaise sees your point. He did in fact never actually try. Copying off of others. Failing tests, saying he never studied to begin with. Never studying, so he’d have an excuse for why he failed. Not doing work because he’s afraid that if he did, he’d have a confirmation that he was in fact stupid. Perhaps it was really time to change something about his whole mindset.

“Will you keep trying to help me, if I promise I’ll actually try?”, he asks nervously. He realizes he just became more vulnerable than ever. Especially to someone he hadn’t even considered to be his friend before. He was looking forward to being friends with you though, and hopefully in the future he’d get to know things about you too. Before that, you had to decide though whether you wanted to help him.

“Well I don’t know”

“Oh-”

“Don’t you have to un-fire me first”, you joke. You practically saw the relief wash over his face. Looks like he really means what he was saying. Blaise expressed his gratitude for your help, and offered to do something for you too in the meantime. Since you couldn't think of anything, you just told him that tutoring him would look good on your resume too, and you left it at that.

Turns out, on your walk back to the Slytherin common room, that you two had a lot in common too, even if you had differences when it came to your studies. Surprisingly, your guys’ favorite quidditch team was the same, and you had the same favorite players. Both of you also shared the same dream vacation locations, and most importantly you both agreed that Malfoy kinda looked like a ferret.

[hayffiebird]

How do you think Effie and haymitch met?

Hi anon! And thanks for asking! (mini-oneshot, under the cut) I always imagined Effie being Haymitch’s second escort when she was a young woman and he was a sorta young man. On the train to Twelve, new on the job, she’s very “first day of school! First day of school!” and eager to make a difference sort of like Sejanus Plinth. She’s ambitious and driven and also naive enough to think “with me on board we will have victors left and right!” Before the Reaping she decides on her own to visit the Victor’s Village and introduce herself personally to her now co-worker. She’s quite star-struck I think, on the way over there - what with the romanticized image the Capitol has of him. Obviously she doesn’t know the truth about Haymitch’s murdered family. No one really does in her city. She’s also super impressed that he won The Second Quarter Quell - one of the most difficult Games in Panem's history, and without a mentor at that! She’s probably a little smitten too (or at least she was as a young girl). Taken by those dark curls and intense gray eyes in a sort of “toughened by life but love will set him free” kind of way. But when she actually finally meet Mr. Haymitch Abernathy he effectively smashes all the illusions Effie ever had of him in less than five minutes. She goes from dazzled to disbelieving to annoyed and they end up having the first of many arguments. I imagine it went something like this:

Standing there in the middle of the kitchen Effie felt the mentor’s eyes travel up and down her body. He held a bottle of spirits in one hand, elbows on the unbelievably filthy table. And in the other, a knife - an actual KNIFE! “Who sent you?” he finally asked. “It ain’t m’birthday.” The shadow of a crease re-appeared between Effie’s eyebrows but then the smile was right back on. “Mr. Abernathy!” She stepped forward and extended a hand. “Euphemia. Euphemia Trinket, the new escort. My friends call me Effie. You can call me Effie if you want. Delighted to make your acquaintance and might I just add what an honor it is to finally meet. I’ve heard so much about you! I’m sure we’re going to make the most fabulous of teams!” Haymitch ignored the outstretched hand. Instead he brought the bottle to his lips, having a few good mouthfuls. “What happened to Dandruff?" he asked in a bored voice. "Ol’ bat finally bit the dust?" “Mrs Dandridge decided to retire. I’m here in her place. Arrived just a few days ago, and my, am I already in LOVE with your … your … quaint district.” “I know right,” he mimicked her voice, dripping with sarcasm. He poured a good amount of the clear liquid into a cracked glass full of sticky fingerprints and extended it to her. “Well, this calls for a toast, don't ya think? Bottom’s up, lil’ lady." “Um, tempting but no thank you,” she said. “I don’t make it a habit of drinking when I'm at work. Especially not this early. Got to keep a level head," she thrilled. "A big big big day today!” Haymitch tsked, eyes on the ceiling. "I'd say." And he downed the drink for her. “Guess this is my lucky day, huh? They finally got rid of ol’ Ice Crotch and now a squeaky lil’ duckling fresh out of the egg’s gonna help me out.” “W-wha … excuse me? Duckling? Squeaky?! I think you’ll find me more than qualified for the job. I graduated from the Academy at the top of my class!” “Yeah, takes a lot o’ brains to send kids off for slaughter.” Effie stared at him. “B-being chosen to participate in The Hunger Games - the biggest event of the year, is a great honor and …” “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he snarled. “Save it for the cameras, why don’t ya?” At a loss for words Effie watched the man finish his bottle, down to the last drop, only to reach for the next. “The Reaping is in an hour,” she said. “So?" “So maybe you ought to slow down? And I trust it you’ll freshen up before then? Take a shower and find an outfit that’s a little more, um, suitable for the … special occasion.” “Meh,” Haymitch shrugged. “Haven’t decided if I’m gonna go.” “You have to go!” The words burst from her lips before she could stop them. “You’re expected! I’ll look like a fool!” In reply, Haymitch snapped the seal on the bottle. With one expert twist. “Don’t need me for something you already accomplished, sweetheart.” He tipped the liquor into his mouth. “Guess I’ll be seeing you around.”

[schrodingerspsycho]

Maybe This Time - Part 1

Pairing - Van Palmer x Band Kid!Reader

Warnings - drug use (weed), blink-182

Word Count - 7.6k

Summary - Van falls for a band kid. What will it take for them to realize that you’ve fallen for them too?

Author’s Note - Merry Christmas everyone!🎄🎁🎅☃️❄️ (and happy holidays to everyone who celebrates other things!) I’m so glad I got this done in time, it ended up being a lot longer than I expected. Lots of fluff. No crash AU. They/them pronouns used for Van and reader, both are referred to as girls. And I can’t bear to write Tai and Van in the same story and not have them be together because they’re soulmates, so Taissa just doesn’t exist in this one. I also created a whole marching show for this and it was the most difficult scene I’ve ever written so please show this some love🙏

Help Palestine by clicking this link!🇵🇸

On the very first day of school, Van noticed you. You were in their English class and you were cute, far cuter than they remembered. But you were quiet and you sat in the row in front of them, so they never really got the chance to talk to you. Sure, they were loud and outgoing with their friends and their team, but they were much more reserved with people they didn’t know. Especially a girl that they liked.

It was easy enough to keep you off their mind for most of the semester. It wasn’t an all-consuming crush or anything, just a reason for them to love a class they’d never been very good at. That was until the few weeks after fall break when soccer practice overlapped with marching band rehearsal.

Coach Martinez always likened the distant sounds of the band to a stand-in for the crowd cheering and claimed it was good to practice ignoring outside distractions. It bothered some of the other girls, but Van always liked listening to them while the team had the ball on the other side of the field during scrimmages. Then one day as they were heading toward the locker rooms after practice, they heard a laugh from the direction of the band room. It was loud and melodic, and when they saw you smiling with your friends, their heart skipped a beat. Screw soccer; they already won nationals last year. Their new goal was to be the one who made you laugh like that.

“What are you looking at?” Natalie asked, coming up behind them. Van didn’t even realize they’d stopped walking.

“That girl’s in my English class,” they answered, pointing. “I didn’t know they were in the band.”

“Oh yeah, Y/N. They play the trombone, I think.”

“Wait, you know them?” Van asked, sounding a little too excited. Thankfully, Nat pretended not to notice.

“Yeah, they’re friends with Kevyn. I’ve smoked weed with them a few times. They’re cool but kinda nerdy. Kinda like you.” Nat gave them a knowing smirk, and Van turned away to hide their blush. “C’mon, let’s go. Jackie’ll have a conniption if we’re late for the post-practice meeting.”

Van nodded and followed her into the locker room, but they barely heard a word of Jackie’s speech. They couldn’t stop thinking about you. And as much as they hated having crushes, the butterflies in their stomach weren’t as painful as they’d been in the past. Maybe with you, things could actually go their way this time. You knowing Nat certainly seemed like a good sign. It was like Lottie said, Van decided. There’s no such thing as false hope.

Van Palmer sat one row behind and two seats to the left of you in English class. You’d been going to the same school for four years now, but this was the first class you’d had together. You couldn’t help but hope that you’d be able to get to know them better, but the way your heart pounded every time you walked into the room made it impossible to even say hi to them. You’d had a huge crush on them ever since last year when you and Kevyn went to see his friend Natalie play in the state championship game. That’s when the beautiful redheaded goalie caught your eye, and you’d been dreaming about them ever since.

Luckily, you didn’t have to talk to them on your own. After three months of less-than-stellar class discussions, your teacher decided to let you pair off into groups to talk about the latest reading assignment. You took a deep breath as your classmates shuffled around you, but before you could even get up from your chair, Van was standing beside you.

“Hey, Y/N, do you want to work together?” they asked, wringing their hands nervously.

“Yeah, sure,” you nodded. They returned your smile and slid into the chair next to you, its usual occupant now giggling with his friends in the back row. “So, what did you think of Frankenstein?”

“It was the scariest book about parenting I’ve ever read,” they quipped. You snorted, and their eyes shone as a proud grin spread across their face.

“That’s one way to describe it,” you smiled. “So who do you think was the villain, Frankenstein or his monster?”

“Oh, Victor was the villain, no question,” they declared. “To create life only to abandon it when you know its existence is cursed? C’mon, he’s literally the definition of a mad scientist.”

“Yeah, but the monster did some pretty fucked up things too. I mean, he killed a kid.”

“And that was horrible, obviously. But I think the real question is whether his circumstances made him evil or if the darkness was inside him all along. And then if it was inside him the whole time, then isn’t it really Victor’s fault for creating him in the first place?”

“That’s a really good way of looking at it,” you said, and they glanced down at the floor. “I hadn’t thought of it like that.”

Van shrugged. “I really liked this book. I don’t know, something about it just clicked with me.”

“Well, then you can speak for both of us when Ms. Fite comes over because I’ve got nothing,” you chuckled.

They smirked. “Yeah, alright. I think I can do that.”

Despite the rest of the conversation flowing naturally with you trading jokes as you discussed the book, you didn’t talk to Van much after that. But they did smile and wave at you every day when you walked into class, so you considered that a win. And you noticed that they were speaking up more in class discussions, which you knew had to be a coincidence. But they were really smart, and it brought a smile to your face every time you heard them speak. You were starting to feel like Frankenstein’s monster, with your perfect girl just out of reach, unable to make them yours.

“Hey, does anyone want to go to the movies with me Friday night?” Natalie asked as the team got changed after practice a week later. “I’ve been wanting to see Bound.”

“Ooh, I’ve been wanting to see that too!” Lottie exclaimed, getting up to stand at Nat’s side.

“Jackie? Shauna? What about you? I heard you talking about it a few practices ago.”

“I wish we could, but Shauna and I are gonna go see Jeff play in the football game,” Jackie smiled, winking at Shauna.

“But the football team sucks,” Mari said with a look of disgust.

“Yeah, but it’s kinda fun to watch them play like shit,” Shauna smirked.

“It’s very fun to watch them play like shit. And us national champs get in free!” Jackie grinned.

“Can I come to the movies?” Misty asked eagerly, bouncing over from the equipment closet. Lottie scoffed, but Nat turned around slowly and looked her up and down.

“Sure,” she said, and it was clear Misty was trying hard to contain her excitement. She was practically vibrating. “Meet us by the field after school.”

“Okay! I can’t wait!” Misty beamed, skipping away. Lottie raised an eyebrow at Nat.

“Oh, fuck off,” she defended, smirking. “She’s awkward, but she’s harmless.”

“Yeah, be nice to her. She’s a great manager,” Laura Lee chimed in, and Jackie gave her an approving nod.

Lottie, Shauna, and Mari rolled their eyes, and Van chuckled. They were too preoccupied with thoughts of you to join in on the teasing like they usually did, but they’d been listening to every word.

“What about you, Palmer?” Nat asked, walking up to them as she grabbed her bag. “You wanna come see Bound with us? It seems like your kinda movie.”

“It is. That’s why I saw it opening weekend,” Van replied. Nat nodded.

“Alright, suit yourself,” she said, slamming her locker door shut. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See ya,” Van smiled as Nat followed Lottie out of the locker room. Then when the conversation died down, they walked over to where Jackie and Shauna were giggling together, their hands stuffed into their back pockets. “Hey, can I come with you guys to the game on Friday?”

“The football game?” Jackie asked in disbelief. “Since when does Van Palmer have any interest in football?”

“I don’t. I just wanna get out of the house,” they shrugged, glancing at the floor. It was believable enough. None of their teammates knew any of the details, but they knew their mom was a bitch. “I mean, if we get in free, then it seems like a pretty good way to pass the time.”

“Sure,” Shauna smiled. “I can give you a ride, too.”

“Thanks.”

“Great!” Jackie exclaimed, reaching out and squeezing Van’s hand. “This is going to be so fun!”

Van nodded in agreement and turned back to their locker. It would be fun, but not for the reason Jackie thought. They just had to make sure they didn’t find out that they only wanted to watch you march.

By the time Friday rolled around, Van still hadn’t worked up the courage to talk to you again. You did smile and wave back at them every time you walked into class though, so they considered that a win. But Van could never be satisfied with small victories. They were a national soccer champion, after all. They hoped that stepping into your world would give them something to talk to you about. Then maybe they’d be closer to winning the prize they were really after.

Van didn’t have to wait long before Shauna pulled up, with Jackie calling out to them excitedly from the passenger side. They greeted them with a smile as they climbed into the backseat, and Jackie turned to look at them as Shauna sped away.

“So, are you excited for the game?”

“Excited to see our team get their asses handed to them, more like,” Shauna said. Van laughed.

“Well, now I am.”

“Oh, you’re gonna love it. They’re awful,” Jackie sneered. Before Van could respond, Shauna reached out and switched the tape to Nevermind. Jackie whipped around to glare at her playfully. “Hey!”

“Sorry, were you listening to that?”

“Yeah, I was, actually.”

“Well, too bad. Van likes Nirvana, and so do I. You’re outvoted.”

Jackie scoffed, pretending to be offended, and Shauna grinned. “You didn’t even ask Van. Maybe they should get to choose the music.”

“No, I like listening to you two bicker like an old married couple,” Van deadpanned, which sent all three girls into a fit of laughter.

“See, this is why we really go to the football games,” Shauna said, glancing at Van in the rearview mirror. Jackie nodded.

“Oh, for sure. It’s never about the boys.”

Van chuckled and turned to stare out the window. If only they knew, they thought to themself with a smile. If only they knew.

They arrived at the game just as the band was marching around the track. And although it took more effort than they would like to admit, Van managed not to look for you as they followed Jackie and Shauna into the bleachers. They would have plenty of time to admire you when you performed at halftime. That was when the band played, wasn’t it?

“Why are those seats empty?” Van asked, pointing to the section next to them. They were in the student section, which was far less populated than it was for their games, right next to the stairs and a few rows from the top.

“That’s where the band sits,” Jackie explained. Van’s eyes widened. They sat down and started bouncing their leg, trying not to picture you sitting just a few feet away from them. Luckily, they were distracted when the band began to take the field. Oh, right, there was a pregame.

“So why did you really want to come to the game?” Jackie asked, leaning forward to peer at Van.

“What?”

“Oh, come on. We all know you’ve never wanted to see a football game before. There’s gotta be a reason,” Jackie smirked, and Van stared at the ground. “Do you like one of the guys on the football team?”

Van made a face.

“Leave them alone, Jackie,” Shauna said. She was sitting between them, and Van was suddenly very grateful for the small buffer she provided.

“I’m just asking! You don’t have to tell us who it is, Van. But I can tell there’s someone you were hoping to see.”

“I don’t like any of the football players,” Van said, repulsion evident on their face. But before any of them could say anything else, the band began to play the fight song. Van turned to watch, smiling unconsciously when they spotted you in the front row.

“Oh my god, wait! Do you like one of the guys in the band?” Jackie exclaimed. Van felt their face heating up. “No way, you totally do! What instrument does he play?”

“I don’t like any guys,” Van defended weakly.

“Oh, come on! Your face is as red as your hair, I know you’re lying. Just tell us about him! We can keep a secret!”

“Jackie, just drop it,” Shauna growled. “They don’t have to tell you anything.”

“Jeez, we’re just talking about boys,” Jackie said. Van shifted uncomfortably, and Shauna gave them an apologetic glance. “Y’know, if you tell me who it is, I might be able to give you some advice on how to woo him. I mean, this is so exciting! You’ve never liked a guy before!”

Van scoffed.

“I don’t think they want to talk about boys,” Shauna said pointedly, but Van missed her inflection and Jackie’s response. The band had begun filing into the stands and they sat up to watch, their eyes never leaving you. Their heart beat faster the closer you got until you finally found your seat, right next to the stairs and one row in front of Van. You started when you locked eyes, a shy grin spreading across your face, and Van beamed and waved at you. You waved back before turning to hear what your director was saying, and Van let out a shaky sigh.

“Holy shit! You like that girl, don’t you?” Jackie practically yelled in surprise.

“Shut up!” Van hissed, whipping around to glare at her. “What the fuck, Jackie?”

“I’m sorry,” she said sheepishly, much quieter this time. “I just didn’t know you were a lesbian.”

Van put their head in their hands and groaned.

“We won’t tell anyone,” Shauna said softly, patting Van’s back. “Right, Jackie?”

“Of course not! And we totally support you. I-I was just surprised- which now that I think about it, I probably shouldn’t be. It actually makes a lot of sense.”

“Seriously?”

“No, it’s fine,” Van sighed, giving Shauna a grateful glance. “I don’t really care about people knowing. I mean, don’t tell anyone, please, but it’s fine if you guys know. I just… don’t want Y/N to know that I like them.”

“Why not?” Jackie asked, her voice genuine. “If you like them, then you should ask them out.”

“I can’t just ask them out, I barely know them.”

“You did come to a football game just to see them play in the band,” Shauna remarked. “And they smiled at you. That seems pretty friendly to me.”

“They’re cute,” Jackie grinned. “Do you wanna tell us about them?”

“Well, they’re in my English class, and we did an assignment together last week. They’re really funny, and sweet, and… beautiful- god, I don’t know! This is stupid!”

“It’s not stupid,” Jackie chuckled.

“You’ve never talked about a crush before, have you?” Shauna asked warmly. Van shook their head.

“Before today, the only person who knew I was a lesbian was Nat, and that’s not really her thing,” they sighed. “And it’s not like I’ve ever done anything about a crush before anyway. It’s different for me! Before I can even ask if they might like me, I have to figure out if they like girls! And spoiler alert, most of the time, they don’t.”

“But you don’t know that. You just need to talk to them and ask. I mean, what’s the worst that could happen?”

“No offense, Jackie, but I don’t think you know the first thing about homophobia.”

“You’re right, I don’t,” Jackie admitted. “But I do know about flirting. And Y/N has been staring at you for, like, five minutes.”

Van’s eyes widened as they fought the urge to turn around. “What? Really?”

“Totally. They’re trying to be subtle, but they’re not very good at it.”

Van grinned in spite of themself. “What do I do?”

“Smile back at them!” Jackie encouraged. “You’ve gotta let them know you’re interested.”

“Okay,” Van nodded, trying to swallow their nerves. They turned around slowly to find that you were indeed staring at them. They gave a little wave when they met your eyes, and you nearly missed when your director called your instruments up. “Oh, shit! I distracted them!” Van groaned. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“It’s fine! They’re still playing, aren’t they?” Jackie said, louder now over the sound of Eye of the Tiger. If they weren’t so embarrassed, Van would’ve marveled at how great you sounded.

“And their ears turned red,” Shauna whispered, leaning over and pointing. “You should at least talk to them as a friend. Y’know, get to know them. That’s probably the best way to find out if they like girls.”

“Okay, maybe you’re right,” Van conceded.

Jackie clapped her hands excitedly. “Yay! And you have to tell us how it goes, okay? I want to know all the details about you and your soon-to-be-girlfriend!”

“Fine,” Van smiled, rolling their eyes. “But neither one of you is allowed to talk during halftime. That’s when they perform.”

“Yeah, okay,” Shauna smirked while Jackie buried her head in her shoulder to hide her laughter. “We’ll be quiet.”

Van knew for a fact that Shauna and Jackie had never been quiet in their lives, but they just shook their head and kept their mouth shut. Luckily, the conversation shifted to other topics, and Van started to feel relaxed. And when the buzzer finally rang at the end of the first half, all their nerves had been replaced by eager anticipation.

Well, most of their nerves.

“And now, please welcome to the field your 1996 Wiskayok High School Marching Yellowjackets!” the announcer boomed. Someone slapped Van’s shoulder. They didn’t see if it was Jackie or Shauna, but they didn’t really care. All of their attention was focused on you. “This year’s performance is a tribute to the greatest spy in movie history. Please enjoy Bond, James Bond.”

“No way,” Van breathed as the first note rang out through the stadium. You were playing the 007 theme. It sounded exactly like it did in the movies! And Van should know, they’d seen all seventeen of them.

But just when they thought they couldn’t be more impressed, they noticed what formation the band was marching into. They had started out in lines like they were for the parade, but as they went along, parts of the band would break off and play in place, the squares forming five dots across the field. Just like the beginning of the gun barrel sequence.

“Holy shit,” Van whispered, scooting up to the edge of their seat. And if Jackie and Shauna were laughing at them, they didn’t notice. They watched with rapt attention as the band played, the sound filling the entire stadium. Then everyone began marching again, all moving in different directions at different gaits. How anyone could remember where to go was completely beyond Van as they gazed in wonder at the picture you were creating. The dot in the middle of the field had morphed into a circle, and everyone else formed eight curved lines spiraling away from it. Now they were the gun barrel! And when you all moved in sync across the field to move the gun barrel to the left, Van considered their mind officially blown. Then the drums made a sound like a gunshot, and they all began to trickle down to the front of the field, starting from the top. Just like the blood, they folded together until they were in one big row on the sideline. And when you played the final note, Van leapt to their feet and cheered.

“Oh my god, you’re so whipped,” Jackie laughed.

“Shut up,” Van said, still smiling. “I mean, come on! Tell me that wasn’t the coolest thing you’ve ever seen!”

“It was cool,” Shauna agreed. “But Jackie’s right. You’re totally whipped.”

“Alright, well, fuck both of you,” Van retorted, sitting back down as the announcer’s voice filled the stadium once more.

“The Wiskayok Marching Yellowjackets will now perform their second movement, “Nobody Does It Better” from the 1977 film The Spy Who Loved Me, featuring trombone soloist Y/N L/N!”

“Oh, shit, that’s them!” Van cried. The band all ran to stand in an arc, but you stayed on the sideline, front and center. Van fought the urge to leap to their feet again.

“Looks like your girl’s a rock star,” Jackie smirked.

“Hell yeah they are,” Van grinned. “I have great taste.”

The band started playing, and Van could hear Carly Simon’s voice in their head. It was incredible how the music could be played on a completely different set of instruments and still sound the same. And when you began to play your solo, the notes ringing out clear and beautiful through the microphone, Van couldn’t help but quietly sing along.

“But like heaven above me

The spy who loved me

Is keeping all my secrets safe tonight”

“In 1973, “Live and Let Die” earned the Bond series its first music-related Oscar nomination for best original song, performed by Paul McCartney and Wings,” the announcer explained when the second song ended. “And now, the Marching Yellowjackets will close out their performance with their version of this chart-topping hit, arranged by our very own Director Frank Jones!”

“Wait, “arranged”? What does that mean?” Jackie asked. Van wouldn’t have been able to answer; they were clueless about music too. But they didn’t hear her, because once again, they were too busy watching you. You had run back to stand with the other trombone players in the arc, and they could tell you were smiling even from the stands.

Once again your performance sounded exactly like it did in the movie. Even Jackie and Shauna were singing along this time. And before Van even realized “Live and Let Die” had ended, the band was playing the 007 theme and moving again. And when you played the final note, you formed the 007 logo in the center of the field. They leapt to their feet again, cheering even louder than before, and they only sat down when the band started making their way back to the stands.

“Woo! Way to go, band!” Jackie shouted once you were in earshot. “You guys were great!”

“What are you doing?” Van hissed.

“I’m just showing my appreciation for our music department,” Jackie shrugged coyly while Shauna snickered. “Do something, they’re looking at you!”

Van blushed and turned to find you smiling at them. They grinned back and flashed you a thumbs-up, which you returned with a chuckle.

“Aren’t you glad I’m here to be your wingwoman?” Jackie smirked.

“Yes,” Van sighed reluctantly, rolling their eyes. “But I will set you on fire if you do anything like that again. That was mortifying.”

“Oh, bite me,” she said sarcastically, a smug grin on her face. “Without me, I bet you wouldn’t even be able to say hi to them.”

“Well, maybe I like pining from the shadows.”

“Again, you came to the football game just to watch them march. That’s not very ‘from the shadows’ of you.”

“Shut up, Shauna,” Van laughed, nudging her.

The football team lost sixty-five to three, apparently their worst game all season. But Van couldn’t care less. They were on cloud nine for the whole second half, the world seeming to stop every time you turned around and grinned at them. They were barely able to pay attention to Jackie and Shauna’s playful bickering as they left the stadium.

“Van, look, there they are!” Jackie exclaimed, pointing subtly to where you were walking through the parking lot with your friends.

“You should go talk to them,” Shauna encouraged with a warm smile.

“No, I… I can’t do that,” Van stuttered, all their nerves returning at once. “They’re busy, I don’t want to bother them.”

“C’mon, they’re not doing anything!” Jackie said exasperatedly. “Just say hi, it’s not that hard! Go on, go!” She pushed Van toward you, but they just stood there, trying and failing to not stare at you.

“I just don’t wanna mess this up,” Van murmured.

“You’re not gonna mess it up,” Shauna said gently. “Just talk to them as a friend, remember? You got this.”

Van stepped forward hesitantly, biting their lip. Then a gust of wind knocked a feather out of your plume and blew it into Van’s left cheek. “Yeah, I can’t do this,” they gasped, turning back quickly.

“Yes, you can! There’s nothing to be afraid of,” Shauna said, but Van just hugged their chest tightly and shook their head.

“Look, either do it or don’t, but can you make a decision, please? It’s freezing out here,” Jackie complained. Shauna gave her a side-eye.

“It’s okay, Van. You’ll get another chance on Monday, right?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess,” they sighed. You were moving farther and farther away, but their anxiety kept them rooted to the spot. So much for their usual cocksure attitude; they couldn’t even say hi to a girl they liked.

They climbed into Shauna’s car and pressed their forehead against the window, watching you walk up to the band door and feeling sorry for themself. Then you made eye contact with them, your beautiful smile shining on your face. Van waved, but you disappeared into the band room like they weren’t there at all. I knew it. They never like girls, Van thought bitterly, putting their head in their hands. Or maybe they just don’t like me.

“They just waved at me again!” you exclaimed once the door had shut behind you.

“Oh my god, when?” Your two best friends ran up to you, grinning eagerly.

“Just now! They were leaving in their friend’s car, I just saw them!”

“Did you wave back?”

“No, I… I freaked out. I froze.”

“Oh, come on!” Lauren cried.

“You’ve been flirting with them the whole game, how could you drop the ball now?” Liv slapped you in the arm playfully.

“I didn’t mean to!” you groaned. “Trust me, no one’s more disappointed in me than I am.”

“I don’t know, I’m pretty invested in your love life,” Liv quipped.

“Do you really think Van likes me?”

“Of course they like you!” Lauren smiled. “You saw how they were looking at you, right?”

“Yeah…”

“Then you’ve gotta talk to them!” Liv insisted. “On Monday, in class. It’s the perfect time to make your move!”

“My move? What’s my move? I don’t have moves!”

“Just talk to them,” Lauren said. “The moves will come to you in the moment. All you gotta do is be yourself.”

“Yeah, Van would have to be a real idiot if they didn’t want you,” Liv chimed in. You smiled.

“Thanks, guys. I’ll try to talk to them on Monday.”

“Don’t try, just do it!” Liv smirked.

“We believe in you!” Lauren grinned. You rolled your eyes. It was a lot easier for them to say. They weren’t the ones who risked getting rejected by the most beautiful girl in school.

Despite your friends’ encouragement, neither one of you made an effort to talk to each other on Monday. Van still smiled and waved at you, and you returned the gesture like always, but that was as far as you had the guts to take it. Van tried not to let it sour their mood at practice that afternoon.

“Hey, how was Bound?” they asked when Nat and Lottie walked in.

“It was great,” Lottie answered. “It was what happened afterward that was a nightmare.”

“What do you mean?”

“Misty! She went fucking berserk on this old lady, it was crazy!”

“Some housewife was saying some homophobic shit after the movie,” Nat explained.

“And now, Misty’s banned from the theater,” Lottie huffed before walking away. Van raised an eyebrow at Nat.

“She was possessed!” she grinned with an adoring look in her eyes. “I was wrong, man. She’s definitely not harmless.”

Van scoffed. “Maybe I should’ve gone with you after all.”

“Naw, I bet you had fun at the football game,” Nat smirked, nudging them. Van looked away as she leaned in. “Did you enjoy the band’s performance?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, yeah? Then I’m sure you have no idea why Jackie and Shauna keep glancing over here either, do you?”

Van groaned.

“Did you tell them or did they find out?” Nat asked softly.

“They found out.”

“And are you good?”

Van smiled at her. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.”

“Good,” Nat nodded. Then she winked. “You should totally ask Y/N out, by the way.”

“Fuck you,” Van chuckled.

“It’s not me you should be fucking,” Nat teased. Van gaped at her as she scurried away, laughing. Van just shook their head and got changed for practice, avoiding Jackie and Shauna’s piercing gaze. If anything could get you off their mind, it was soccer.

It worked for a while. It was their best practice so far this season; they didn’t let a single ball get past them. But the respite was short-lived. Their thoughts of you returned the moment Coach Martinez blew the whistle at the end of practice, and so did their sour mood. And it only grew as the week went on and the idea of talking to you became more and more impossible. Luckily, Nat noticed Van’s pain and offered them the perfect solution.

“Hey,” Van greeted as they approached the spot behind the dumpsters where Nat had instructed them to meet. “Thanks again for hooking me up.”

“No problem,” Nat smiled. “Happy to help.”

Van nodded, ignoring Nat’s uncharacteristic cheeriness, and handed over the small wad of cash. Nat pocketed the money, and after glancing around to make sure no one was looking, handed Van a small bag of weed.

“I think you’re really gonna like this stuff,” she said with a wink.

“Thanks,” Van smiled, eyeing the weed hungrily. Then they heard footsteps behind them and they snapped their head up to stare fearfully at Nat.

“Don’t worry, it’s cool,” Nat said. And before Van could react, someone else had walked into their little hiding spot.

“Sorry I’m late,” a familiar voice said. “My trig teacher was being a bitch again and held us after the bell.”

“No problem,” Nat grinned. “I was just finishing up another sale. Have you, uh, met my teammate?”

“No, I don’t think I- Van.”

Van had finally turned around, and they were now face to face with their worst nightmare. Or their dream come true, depending on what happens next. “Hey, Y/N.”

“So you have met,” Nat said, breaking the silence after a few moments. “I figured, I’ve got two people buying from the same batch, why not do it at the same time?” She gave Van a knowing grin, and Van fought the urge to throttle her.

“Uh, yeah, that’s uh… smart,” you said. Then you handed her the money and she gave you a bag just like Van’s. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Nat replied. “Now, I’ve gotta run, but it would be better if you two could wait a minute before you leave. Y’know, make this look less like a drug deal.”

“Yeah, sure. We can do that,” you nodded, avoiding Van’s eyes. “Thanks again.”

“See ya around, Y/N. Van, you’ll have to tell me how you like it at practice next week.”

Van watched her go, and then they were left alone with you. The only sound was the pounding of their heart, and they prayed you couldn’t hear it.

“So, uh… how have you been?” you asked nervously.

“Good. You?”

“Good.”

“I saw you at the football game last week. Your show was really great.”

“Thanks,” you smiled. “I’m glad you got to see it.”

“It was so cool how you did the gun barrel sequence. And your solo sounded amazing!” Van gushed. “It was just like the movies! If I’d known that marching band was so cool, I would’ve gone to a football game a lot sooner.”

You blushed, and Van’s anxiety skyrocketed. They hadn’t meant to say that. Now they’d really messed up.

“I’m glad you liked it,” you breathed.

“I, uh, I have to go,” Van announced, clearing their throat loudly. “I have to catch the bus.”

“But the school buses have already left.”

“No, the city bus,” Van explained. “The nearest stop is a mile away, so I need to start walking.” They turned and left the spot behind the dumpsters, but you stopped them before they could get any farther.

“I could give you a ride,” you called. Van turned back around slowly. “If you want.”

“Are you sure?”

“Totally. I mean, I’ve got a car and nowhere to be. It’s not a limo or anything, but it’s better than the city bus.”

Now Van was the one who was blushing. “Yeah, that sounds great,” they grinned shyly.

“Perfect,” you beamed, pulling your key out of your pocket. “Right this way, m’lady.”

Van giggled and followed your lead. Maybe they really did have a chance this time.

“You can throw your backpack in the backseat,” you said as you climbed into the car. “And you can pick some music, my tapes are in the glovebox.”

Van nodded, placing their backpack at their feet and opening the glovebox. They were expecting to find two or three tapes, maybe four, but you had nearly a dozen stacked in there. “Woah!” they exclaimed, glancing between you and the tapes. “How do you have so many tapes? Are you, like, rich or something?”

“No, I’m not rich,” you chuckled. “My aunt owns the record store downtown. I get a discount on all the music I want, and they gave me a bunch of their old tapes from the seventies. David Bowie, Queen, the Ramones, stuff like that.”

“No way, I love Queen and Bowie!” Van cried.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah! I went as the Aladdin Sane album cover for Halloween a few years ago!”

“You did? That’s awesome!”

“Well, I already have the red hair,” Van joked. You laughed. “I love that record store, it’s so cool that your aunt owns it.”

“We’ll have to go there together sometime. I bet I can get you a discount too.”

“Yeah, that would be fun,” Van said softly, turning back to look through the tapes. They slid David Bowie’s Let’s Dance into the tape deck as you pulled out of the parking lot. You began tapping out the rhythm of “Modern Love” on your steering wheel, and Van joined you on air guitar. When the chorus came on you belted it out, both of you singing off-key. Everything felt so natural that Van almost forgot about being anxious.

“Do you usually buy from Nat?” you asked them.

“Yeah. I don’t smoke a lot of weed, but when I do I get it from her. I think everyone on the team does, it’s just easier. What about you?”

“I usually buy from Kevyn, actually. But he sent me to Nat this time. I guess he doesn’t have anything to sell right now or something.”

“Huh. Yeah, something like that,” Van muttered.

“Do you ever smoke with your teammates?”

“Sometimes I’ll smoke with Nat and Lottie, but most of the time I smoke alone. I usually have to smoke it right after I buy it since I can’t keep it at my house.”

“Can’t let your parents find it, huh? My folks are the same way. Couple’a hardasses,” you smirked.

“No, my mom will steal it and smoke it herself,” Van said humorlessly.

“Oh.” You sat in silence for a moment, not quite comfortable but not as awkward as before. “Do you have to be home by a certain time?”

“No,” Van shook their head. “Why?”

“Well, if you don’t want to go home yet, I was thinking we could head to the park a few blocks over. Maybe this time we don’t have to smoke alone.”

“Yeah, I’d really like that,” Van beamed. You returned their eager expression and changed course, turning the music up. Van couldn’t believe their luck.

“Why don’t you guys play at our soccer games?” Van asked while you were rolling your joints.

“We can’t march on the soccer field. We need the yard lines to figure out where we’re going,” you explained. “But we play at basketball games, and we don’t march at those. Y’know, I’m actually not sure.”

“I wish you did play at our games,” Van mused. “That would be so cool.”

“Yeah, it would be fun. I guess I’ll just have to go to them on my own. I can get some of the other trombones to come too. We’ll sing for you.”

Van chuckled. “I bet we’d be undefeated again this year if you did that.”

“Naw, you don’t need our help with that. I saw you playing at states last year. I don’t know anything about soccer, and even I could tell that you guys are amazing.”

“You saw us play at states?”

“Uh, yeah,” you said quietly after a beat, nearly dropping your joint as you tried to light it. “Oh, hey, the album ended.”

“Yeah, it did.”

“Here, let me play you something,” you said, reaching past them for the glovebox. “My cousin visited us from California last summer, and he introduced me to this awesome new band down there. They’re called blink-182.” You pulled out a tape that said Cheshire Cat and put it in and a punk rock guitar riff filled the car. “I think you’ll like them. They don’t take anything seriously.”

“Rude,” Van scoffed, taking a hit and blowing the smoke out the window. “I’m taking that as a compliment.”

You continued talking and laughing together as you got high, the weed and conversation relaxing you both. And by the time you got to the end of your joints, you were discussing one of your many shared interests; Star Trek.

“Riker’s actually the reason I started playing trombone,” you said proudly. “The best instrument for the best character.”

“You think Riker’s the best character?” Van repeated, trying to hide their disappointment. “Most girls have a crush on Picard.”

“What? No, I don’t have a crush on Riker,” you insisted, shaking your head. “He’s my favorite character for sure, but I don’t have a crush on him.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, he’s definitely not the character I have a crush on,” you breathed.

“Then who do you have a crush on?” Van asked quietly, unconsciously leaning in. You mirrored them.

“Doctor Crusher,” you answered. “I love how caring she is. And she has such a cute smile… beautiful red hair…”

“You… you like girls?”

You froze. “Um, yeah, I, uh… I do.” You shifted uncomfortably. “You don’t have, like, a problem with that or anything-”

“No, I don’t,” Van said quickly. “I like girls too.”

“You do?” you whispered, leaning in again.

“Yeah, I do.”

And then Van closed the gap. Your lips were chapped, and the smell of weed was almost suffocating, but they never wanted this moment to end. They chased after you clumsily and you cupped their left cheek, deepening the kiss. Then, just when they started thinking the kiss could lead to something more, they caught one of the lyrics in the song.

“I’m so sorry, what is this song about?” Van asked incredulously. You cringed.

“It’s, uh… it’s about a woman who accidentally sleeps with her estranged father.”

“Yeah, okay, that’s what I thought,” they said before bursting into a fit of laughter. You let out a nervous chuckle.

“It’s one of their joke songs,” you explained as you turned off the music. “If I’d known we were going to be doing this I would’ve picked a different album.”

“No, no, it’s hilarious. Now I’m never going to forget our first kiss.”

“First?” You raised an eyebrow. Van just shrugged and smiled at you, their face flushing a beautiful shade of pink. “Wow,” you breathed, and Van saw the desire they’d been feeling reflected in your eyes.

“Yeah, would you, uh… wanna go out with me sometime?” they asked after a moment of comfortable silence.

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that? Y’know, since I’m the one with the car?” you smirked. They grinned sheepishly. “Yeah, I’d love to.”

“Perfect,” Van said before pouncing on you again. You gripped their hips as they leaned over the gear shift, quickly regaining control and kissing them passionately. Van melted at your touch. “Hey, we’re pretty good at this,” they quipped, maneuvering to sit in your lap.

“Hell yeah we are,” you grinned.

By the time you took Van home, it was already getting dark. And over the next few days, the piece of paper with Van’s messily scrawled phone number got more use than your trombone. You agreed that the best kind of first date was dinner and a movie, and you decided to go and see Wes Craven’s new horror movie Scream. Its opening night lined up with your last day of school before winter break, and you both had a major crush on Drew Barrymore, so it was the perfect fit.

When the day came, you were both nervous wrecks in English class. And not because of your final; although you both probably should’ve studied harder for it. But this was it. Before you’d just been talking, and kissing when you got the chance. But a real date. That made it official. You would be girlfriends.

After deliberating for longer than you would like to admit, you pulled on your favorite button-up shirt and your trusty leather jacket. Then you checked your appearance in the mirror one last time and headed to Van’s house, your heart racing the whole way. You arrived a few minutes early and waited anxiously out front. Van had asked you not to go to the door, but you were starting to feel like you were in the wrong place.

“Hey, Y/N!” Van called excitedly, opening the passenger door and pulling you from your thoughts.

“Hey, Van,” you smiled. They were wearing a denim jacket over one of their rugby shirts. It wasn’t terribly different from what they normally wore, but it was Van. You’d never seen anything more beautiful. “You ready to go?”

Van nodded eagerly. “I’ve been looking forward to this all week.”

You leaned over and placed a quick kiss on their lips. “Me too.”

“Then let’s go already,” they laughed. You drove away and they slid Queen’s Greatest Hits album into the tape deck. You both sang along at the top of your lungs until you reached the cheap Italian place by the theater.

As much as you wanted to hold hands as you walked in, you knew you had to pretend like this wasn’t a date. Neither one of you wanted it to get out that you were lesbians. Too much trouble could come from that. But thankfully the server sat you at the corner table, so you were able to enjoy some modicum of privacy. Still, being together in public was a lot more nerve-wracking than stealing kisses in the janitor’s closet between classes.

“What are you going to get?” you asked as you looked over the menu.

“Spaghetti and meatballs. Easily the best type of pasta,” Van smirked.

“My thoughts exactly.”

“Maybe we should share. That way we can do the thing from Lady and the Tramp.”

You laughed, loud and melodic, and Van beamed. “And which one am I?”

“The tramp, obviously. Have you ever seen a more sophisticated lady than myself?” Van said with an exaggerated posh accent. You laughed again.

“If you want me to be a tramp for you, just say so,” you whispered. Van giggled.

“Only if you’re the one paying.”

“I was already planning to,” you smiled.

“You’re too good to me,” they grinned, blushing. You winked.

It was the best meal you’d had in months, and Van would’ve said the same. And the food was good, sure. But it was the company that put this meal above the rest. Being with Van made you happier than you could’ve imagined, and it was only the first date! You were already looking forward to all the memories you knew you would make together. And they would never tell you, but Van was doing the same.

Wes Craven’s Scream was the perfect end to the night. The perfect mix of horror, comedy, mystery, and more movie references than Van makes in a day. Neither one of you was scared of Ghostface, of course, but you held hands anyway. On the way home you forwent the music in favor of discussing the queer undertones of Billy and Stu’s relationship and arguing over who was hotter; Sidney or Gale. And when you dropped Van off you sealed the night with a kiss, a soft, lingering kiss that promised many more to come.

“I’m really glad we did this,” you sighed dreamily as they left the car.

“Yeah, I can’t wait for our next date. Girlfriend.”

You grinned and waved goodbye, already missing them. You were thinking about calling them before they even reached the house. Maybe things are finally starting to look up, you thought as you drove away. Maybe this time we’ll get to be happy.

[odiesdayoff]

Studying Pays Off

pair: edward nashton (professor!) x fem!reader (student but also not)

summary: Edward Nashton’s a tough professor, but you’re up for the challenge.

warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI 18++++); oral sex (f. receiving); questionable student/teacher relationship (they are but they aren’t); age gap

slay. I’ve been posting this series on AO3 and decided to take it to my tumblr as well :)

part two

You heard horror stories about Professor Nashton. One of the two professors that taught advanced forensic accounting, a class that you needed to take for your major. Professor Ives was kind and very generous with extra credit. Unfortunately, the only class that you could take that fit into your schedule wasn’t with Professor Ives.

Most people complained about his lectures, usually long and boring and full of riddles that didn’t have much to do with the actual subject. He was strict about grading and the smallest error in a project might turn your A into a B. Unfortunately, you weren’t an exception to the normal borderline failing student that became the norm.

The thirty seconds that you stood outside of his room, too nervous to start your office hour session with him, felt like an eternity. It was common knowledge that nobody dared trying to go to his office hours. Students were too afraid to get on his bad side to even attempt to ask questions about the lecture. You were different, though. You were determined to get at least a B- in this class even if it meant spending an awkward few minutes with the man.

He didn’t look at you as you walked in and took your seat on the other side of the desk. You clutched your binder close to your chest, sheets upon sheets of printed-out homework and projects thickening it. You wrote your own notes over and around the notes that he gave you. You practiced everything that you wanted to talk to him about.

He wrote the grade with a large red marker on someone’s project. D. You hoped that it wasn’t yours. “I don’t offer extra credit if that’s what you came here for. And I will not be bribed by any means,” He flipped the stack of papers over, pushing them to the side and finally looking up at you. For a moment, you wondered what students might have tried to use to bribe him.

“That…That’s not what I’m here for, sir. I wanted to discuss the last project and what I could do better for the next time,” You opened your binder and nervously pulled the stapled stack of paper with a marked B- on the top out of the front fold. You offered the paper to him and he took it.

That project, in particular, getting a report from some made-up company and logging their accounts as well as any discrepancies, didn’t seem too difficult for you. You finished it with time to spare and found nothing wrong when you went over it, yet you barely passed. You began to wonder if you were doing everything wrong and you were in the wrong field.

He flipped through the pages faster than any person could possibly be looking at the content. You sat quietly, hoping that your breathing didn’t disturb his work. “While there aren’t many mistakes, the ones that you did make were those that should have been eradicated in basic accounting. It might be a problem with you rather than this individual project.” His facial features were soft, but that didn’t seem to translate to his harsh personality.

Your breathing halted, maybe you should have listened when you were told to avoid going to his office hours. Was he calling you stupid? “I’ve never had a problem before this class. Is there anything that I can do about that?” The voice in your head wanted to lean over the desk and slap the shit out of the man, but you knew that it would only make things worse for you. His words would get to you tonight when you were able to cry about it if you needed.

“I can’t fix what was broken from the start, I’m afraid,” he handed the stack of papers back to you and you took them with a shaky hand. At this point, you weren’t sure if the shaking came from anger or you fighting back the urge to cry. Your life’s passion, the one thing you were sure that you excelled at, he was telling you that you never had a chance. What an asshole.

You looked down at the papers in your lap, “Is there… any way to improve in this class? Even with my…problems?” You weren’t sure why this was such a blow to your self-confidence. You’ve had much worse said to you by your parents when you told them that you wanted to go into accounting. You nearly failed geometry and their hope for you fell down the drain.

He sighed as if this wasn’t literally the job that he signed up to do for a living. “Unless you want to dedicate your time to coming to my office hours every single time there’s an assignment to go over things, I suggest you drop the class before it affects your GPA too much,” He looked at someone else’s project and shook his head. It was like you weren’t even there.

And that’s exactly what you did for the rest of the semester. From the time that he started his office hours to when he kicked you out, you worked on your assignments. Maybe you were a bit delusional, but you started to wonder if he was finally warming up to you. Your grades definitely reflected a more positive relationship with the man. You were probably the only person in the class that had an A by December.

The final was in two days and you were still committing to your office hour sessions with Professor Nashton. “You intrigue me, Y/n,” He spoke out of the blue.

You looked up from your papers, “How so?”

He leaned back into his chair. It squeaked slightly, “Most students just give up after that first office hour visit. They…curse me out and then drop a shitty rate my professor review. But not you, Y/n.” He spoke along with his hands, “You never let me spend a class or office hour alone.”

“It definitely paid off. I think I’m one of the only people not either failing or borderline failing. Why do you grade like that?” You’ve been meaning to ask that question for so long, but it never seemed right. Now that you two felt like somewhat friends and he was getting personal, maybe he would find out.

He bit his lip, “This subject relies on precision. One mistake could jail an innocent person or let a guilty one roam free. Forensic accountants are crucial and perhaps the foundation of the justice system. Financially, that is. If I start my students with a work ethic that relies strongly on attention to detail and little mistakes, justice will be served in the future. Most of them just don’t want to work hard.”

You nodded along. You agreed with him to a point but thought that he should have been a bit less harsh in the way that he conducts this message. “That…actually makes a lot of sense. Maybe you should say that at the beginning of the semester,” You suggested.

He shook his head, “If they didn’t try before, it’s not going to make them suddenly start. Most people at this school are privileged little fucks that’ll go into their daddy’s firm once they graduate. Pardon my French. People like us work for our success.”

He wasn’t wrong there. Gotham University was built on nepotism and will always be that way, it seemed.

~~~

The final wasn’t bad, just as you had expected. It was exactly what you studied and discussed with the professor, so you were pretty sure that you got a decent grade. The other students filtered out of the classroom as soon as they wrote down their final number and rejoiced in their winter break starting. Once the last person left, you took the opportunity to talk to Professor Nashton one last time.

“How was it?” He asked, sorting through the stacks of finished tests all over his desk.

You shrugged, “It was good. Not to brag, but I think I got an almost perfect score.” This earned you a smile from him. You took a deep breath and adjusted your bag on your shoulder, “Now that we’re not technically student and teacher anymore, I wanted to let you know that I really enjoy talking with you. I work at this little diner by the Iceberg Lounge and if you’re ever in the area, you’re free to stop by. I’ll even throw in a free coffee and slice of pumpkin pie.”

“That’s very generous of you, Y/n. I’ll keep that in mind,” You had your suspicions that he was only saying that to be polite, but a small part of you wanted to see him again. Seeing him in a less professional setting and without the big label of instructor might do him some good.

Your winter break was uneventful. You worked, occasionally spent time with your friends, and avoided your family’s judgment throughout the holiday season. It wasn’t until the second week of January that things got interesting again.

Working at a 24-hour diner meant that you had to be available for work at all times of the day. You drew the short straw and found yourself behind the counter, completely void of co-workers and customers, at 2 in the morning on a Wednesday. You were halfway through Pride and Prejudice when you were startled by the doorbell.

Standing in the doorway was him. Your former professor in a large raincoat and informal wear. “What are you doing here so late?” You asked, smirking. You were relieved to have someone to talk to other than yourself and that he wasn’t some random creep.

“I could ask you the same thing. I couldn’t sleep,” He sat on one of the barstools and you turned on the coffee machine. If it were anyone else, you would’ve served the stale, hours-old coffee.

“What does your spouse think of your late-night diner runs?” You took a relatively hot slice of pie and placed it in front of him with a fork.

He took a bite of the pie, “Not married.”

You raised a brow, “I can’t imagine why not. You’re smart, attractive, and literally a tenured professor at an esteemed university.” You turned to grab a cup for the coffee.

Edward paused and looked up from his pie, “You of all people should not be saying that I’m attractive.”

“Why? Because you’re older than me?” You snorted.

“Because you’re beautiful. And frankly, I feel guilty even saying that.”

You poured the coffee in silence and placed it in front of him. He found you attractive. Now that there was no formal rule that could get him fired, you had all the opportunity in the world to mess with him. And by mess with him, you really just want to jump his arrogant bones.

“Are you sure that pie’s the only thing in here you wanna eat?” You put on your best seductive voice, making him slightly choke on his coffee. He glared at you, “Oh, come on. We’re not limited to roles anymore. We’re just two adults that know each other from university.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to, trust me, I’ve shamefully thought about it before. It’s just-”

“Just nothing! I’m offering to get on this counter, lift my skirt up, and let you eat me out. Yes or no?”

He sat in silence for a second, staring. The gears in his brain were turning. He grabbed the plate and the cup and pushed them to the side, “Get up.”

This was a first for you. Sex with a professor and doing it at work. Despite it all, you sat up on the counter and showed yourself to him. He stared for a moment, nervous, before hooking his arms under your legs and diving in.

Other than the buzzing of the various machines in the diner, the only noises in the room were of Edward licking and the moans that you held back. You didn’t expect him to be that good, no man ever was when it came to oral. He found your clit after a few seconds and began to suck on it, not giving you a chance to register the sudden rush of pleasure.

“Fuck!” You moved your hand on the counter, accidentally swiping the coffee cup off. It shattered, but Edward didn’t look up or stop. It wasn’t like you were going to stop and clean it up now, anyway.

“Y/n, you taste so good,” He whispered into your pussy. You grabbed his hair and twirled it with your fingers.

He pushed two fingers into you and you felt the pleasure fully begin to coil in your stomach. You moaned and tugged on his hair. That only made him go faster.

With Edward relentlessly pleasuring you, it took not long for you to see stars. The walls were not soundproof and you had forgotten if they had security cameras or not, but that didn’t stop you from calling out his name as you came around his fingers.

He finally looked up at you with a goofy smile on his face. Your face was flushed and your chest noticeably rose and fell. Now, you were more confused that he wasn’t married. “How was that?”

[justmochi]

Wasted

pairing :: eden x seokmin

word count :: 2.4k

synopsis :: a rare occasion where eden gets drunk

time :: january 2022

warnings :: fluff, comedy, angst(?)

a/n :: also pls lmk if theres any errors or mispellings bc I DID NOT PROOFREAD

taglist :: @cafemilk-tea @cixrosie @moonlight-additions​ @cosmicwintr @astraw-astro @ateezjuliet @fromfreesia @succulentmom @kimhyejin3108 @enhacolor

“Sometimes I worry if that’s all I’m good at. Writing. Like what if I just give up being an idol and become a full time lyricist.” She spun her shot glass around, watching the soju almost coming close to spilling out. Seokmin quickly leaned into her, his arm resting on the back of her chair and kissing her temple.

“Noo. You’re so talented, one of the most talented people I know. You have more talent in your pinky finger than most people in their entire body these days.” She looked up at him with a pout, biting the inside of her cheek.

“You have one of the most beautiful voices I’ve ever heard. And you’re such a cool rapper and dancer. There’s nothing you can’t do.”

Eden pursed her lips, looking down at her class and holding it up for a cheers. They both took a shot, Seokmin quickly pressing his head against hers and smiling. “No matter what you choose to do, I’ll be your biggest fan. Promise” He held out his pinky, the couple completing the promise.

“I want to forget about my deadlines. Just for tonight.” She poured herself another shot before downing it.

She got through two more bottles of soju before feeling herself start to let go. The third bottle was going to be the finale before she was completely wasted. Seokmin stopped drinking after his first bottle, making sure he would be able to witness her being drunk and also being capable of taking care of her.

Eden slammed her head down on the table, whining as she came in contact with the surface. He gasped, picking her head up and placing the back of his hand on her forehead so she could rest it against him. He quickly called over the bartender, requesting the bill and water for them both.

“You’re gonna hurt yourself, E.” He rubbed her back, trying his best to comfort her.

“I’m sorry.” She moved her forehead against his hand, finding it oddly satisfying while they waited. It was like a facial massage.

“Do you feel a little bit better?” He pouted, brushing her hair to the side and pecking her cheek.

She smiled, hiccuping while turning to face him. She pressed her finger against his bottom lip as she giggled. “I feel like a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders.”

Seokmin watched as the bartender dropped two glasses of water off for them. He pushed the glass closer to her, helping her sip on the liquid with a straw. “That’s good. Our ride will be here soon enough.”

“I wanna go home with you.” She held her hand out for him, losing her balance when sitting on the chair. He was quick to catch her and keep her upright on the stool.

“Woah there. You’re coming home with me regardless.” He laughed nervously, standing to his feet and wrapping his arm around her.

“Okay good.” She chuckled, covering her mouth as she let out a burp. “That’s gross I’m sorry.”

He patted her head softly, throwing her jacket over her shoulders and slipping his arm around her waist. “We’re gonna start walking now, okay?”

Eden nodded her head, wrapping both her arms around him and hugging him tight. She was a little wobbly but it wasn't too difficult for him to support her. Exiting the pub, he quickly spotted the car he called for and approached the door.

He opened the car door, helping Eden in. “Be careful. Watch your head.” He had his palm on the top of her head in case she was to jolt and hit the ceiling. She giggled as he reached over her and fastened her seatbelt. Her fingers danced on his shoulder as she tapped a rhythm.

“Stay put. Let me go on the other side.” He pinched her cheeks, smiling before shutting the door and rushing to the opposite side. He got himself buckled in, scooting closer to her side and giving the driver his address.

“I did as you said. I didn’t move.” She tried her best to cuddle up close to him, her seatbelt restricting her until she let out a whine when she couldn’t move any further. She was locked in, causing Seokmin to laugh.

“Yes, good girl.” He patted her head, noticing how she purred against his touch. “You probably weren’t going to get far with that seatbelt.”

She looked up at him, tracing his jaw with her finger. “You never call me that.”

“Good girl? Do you want me to start?” Eden shrugged her shoulders, blushing when he tapped on her nose.

“Maybe. But don’t overuse it.” She furrowed her eyebrows, her tone strict. He quickly put his hand over her eyes, teasing her while looking out the car window. The two didn’t talk much more on the way back to his place, only exchanging a few words and mumbles.

As soon as they arrived, Seokmin quickly undid his buckle and patted her knee. “Hang tight.” He got out and went to her side, opening the door and reaching over to unbuckle her. She was slouched against the seat, lazily holding her arms out for him.

“You don’t wanna walk?”

“Carry me.” She smiled, pleading with her eyes and him knowing he couldn’t refuse her. He scratched the back of his neck, quietly apologizing to the driver and maneuvering his arms under her knees and back. She tried covering her mouth to conceal her snorts, failing miserably.

He couldn’t help but laugh out loud, making sure he had her stable in his arms. She left nibbles and kisses on his neck, wrapping her arms around him before resting her head on his shoulder. He pushed himself back against the car door, shutting it and thanking the driver before making his way to the dorms.

“Look at my boyfriend. So strong and handsome.” She complimented him, her eyes shutting as her feet dangled in the air. “My very own king arthur.”

He got more and more flustered, surprised at her mentioning his musical. Even as they entered the elevator, he asked her to help him push the floor levels and code of his door in. They finally made it inside, Seokmin bending his knees and assisting her so she could lock the door. She kept turning it the wrong direction, causing both of them to laugh.

He carried Eden back to his bedroom, carefully setting her at the edge of the bed. She didn’t stay in the same position, placing her feet flat on the floor and slouching over.

“Home at last.” He let out a sigh with his hands on his hips before running his hand through her hair. “Tired yet?”

She placed her finger against her thumb, closing her eyes and whispering with a hiccup. “Maybe a little.”

“Well at least let me take off your makeup before you fall asleep.” He knelt in front of her, pulling her shoes off and setting them aside. She clapped her hands together before he stood up again, sliding her jacket off her shoulders and hanging it up in his closet. Then he found a loose shirt of his and walked back over to her. He grabbed both of her hands and admired how tiny they looked in his.

“Hands up.” He smiled, guiding her arms up so he could pull her top over her head. She giggled feeling his fingers brush against her sides. He quickly threw on his shirt over her head, carefully fitting her arms through the sleeves and pulling her hair out.

He took the spare hair tie she always kept on her wrist, gathering her hair together and putting it into a loose ponytail. She threw her head back, pouting before puckering her lips and making kissy noises.

“You want a kiss?” He rested his hands against her cheeks, smiling as she nodded.

“Yes, please.”

He gave her a quick peck, adoring the cute expression on her face. “Maybe another one?”

He rolled his eyes, giving her a kiss on her chin.

“Maybe two more.” So he gave her two more on each corner of her mouth.

“Okay, stay put while I go get some stuff.” He gave one more as a bonus, excusing himself to get the things to take her makeup off.

Eden got bored quickly, yawning before kicking her pants off her legs and onto his floor. He came back with cotton rounds and makeup remover. She looked happy to see him back.

Seokmin poured the cleanser onto the cotton, telling her to close her eyes before gently pressing them to her eyelids.

“I’ve never had someone take my makeup off for me.” She sighed, throwing her head back as she held onto his waist.

“I like it. It’s fun.” He chuckled, flipping the rounds over and going over the rest of her face. “I’ll take yours off whenever you want me to.”

She nodded, finally opening her eyes as he finished up.

“Should we wash your face too?” He hoped she would say yes, just so he could have the pleasure of pampering her.

“We probably should.” She agreed with him, standing up and wrapping her arms around his neck. He hugged her tightly, pressing his lips to her neck as he swayed both of them back and forth. He then lifted her up, wrapping her legs around his waist as he walked to his bathroom.

He shut the door behind them, placing her down and caging her in between his body and the sink. She grabbed his face with her hands, smiling as another hiccup escaped her body. “I love you a lot.”

“I love you more.” He argued, kissing the tip of her nose. He grabbed her cleanser from the side of the cabinet with her things in it. He always made sure there was a spare stock of her things whenever she did stay the night.

“No, I love you more.” She furrowed her eyebrows, pouting her lips as he snickered.

“Not a chance.” He lathered the foam up in his hands, gently massaging it on her face and being as delicate as he could. She couldn’t argue with him any further as he ran his fingertips across her lips. She started to hold her breath which made him giggle even more.

“You’re so beautiful.” He teased her before washing his hands off. “Do you wanna splash your face?”

She nodded, turning around in his grasp as he pulled back all her baby hairs so they didn’t get wet. She lazily rinsed her face off, Seokmin watching her in the mirror before wetting her hairline of the remaining cleanser. He reached for the towel, patting her face dry and grabbing the rest of her things.

She turned back around to face him, admiring his features as he was so soft and tender at applying

her products. “Can I ask you something?”

“Always.” His smile never went away as he traced her skin.

“Do you think I’m a good idol?”

He had no idea why she asked, because he was always vocal about how proud he was of her and everything she’s accomplished. “Of course. You’re so perfect and one of the best.”

She got quiet, breaking eye contact with him as he finished up her skincare. She was slowly sobering up, becoming more immersed with her own thoughts. He frowned, holding her tiny face in his hands and searching her eyes for any signs.

“What’s wrong?”

“I wonder if this is the right path for me. Sometimes I think I’m not cut out for this job.”

His heart broke a little, knowing that she still had little confidence in herself and wishing she could see herself the way he did.

“Our contract renewals are coming up soon and I just don’t know what to do.” She sighed, slouching her body as her back hit the edge of the sink. “I love what I do, but it also feels like an obstacle I’ll never get through.”

“You wanna know what I think?”

She hummed, looking up into his eyes as she felt her worries ease little by little.

“I think you’re the most beautiful person I've ever met. Everything about you is beautiful. Your personality, your singing, your artistry and ability to make music. I just don’t think you give yourself the credit you deserve.”

She felt the heat rise to her cheeks again, pressing the back of her hand to her face. He suddenly engulfed her into a tight hug, sighing into her shoulder. “I and so many people adore you. You’re so amazing.”

She hugged him back, inhaling his scent and shutting her eyes. She could always get lost in him.

“Do you think I should resign my contract?” It was always something that settled in the back of her head ever since her group was considered to be on hiatus. She’d be lying if she said it wasn’t the first thing she thought of when waking up and the last thought she had whenever she laid her head on her pillow.

He distanced himself from her, pushing her hair behind her ears before looking at her intently. “I want you to do whatever will make you happy. If you want to continue making music and showcasing your art to the world, I will support you. If you want to settle down and take things slow, I will support you on that too. All that matters to me is that you’re happy and healthy. You’re my best friend before anything.”

Tears began to well up in her eyes the more he spoke. She nodded, pressing her forehead to his chest as his shirt soaked up her tears. “Sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize, it’s okay. I love you.” He picked her up by the back of her legs, wrapping them around his waist just like he did before.

“I love you too.” She wiped her eyes while one of her arms held onto him.

Finally reaching his bedroom, he laid her flat on the bed before climbing on top of her. He pressed kisses to her forehead, both of her cheeks, and a few on her lips. He pulled back to smile at her, leaving one last lingering kiss on her lips before lying down next to her.

She turned on her side, quickly snuggling closer to him as he covered them both up with his blankets.

“You had a long day, you should probably sleep soon.” He reminded her, playing with her hair strands and pushing them back where they belonged.

“Can you do me a favor?” She whispered, pursing her lips as he nodded. “I’m not that drunk but can you repeat everything you said to me tonight in the morning? Just in case.”

He chuckled. “Of course. Always.” He kisses her cheek, pulling her tighter against his chest and hugging her like it was his one duty on this earth.

[slowtides]

Today was just. Too much. cw for discussions of ptsd and panic attacks and hyper vigilance around school shootings

So today was hard from the beginning. I’ve been dealing with some difficult situations with my students and it’s just hard to know how to manage them. Because as contingent faculty I don’t have a professional community to lean on and it’s hard. So I spent the morning meeting with students and trying to find ways to send emails and it was just a lot. I also spent most of the day waiting on a call from my advisor to talk about a situation so I was just in this suspended wait time alone in my freezing cold office. Stressed and on edge

No one is in our building on Fridays. Very few classes happen so almost everyone works from home. I was sitting in my lonely office with the door closed and I’ve started listening to Emily Barker’s album on Spotify. And I heard these two loud pop-bangs one after the other right outside my door. And before I knew what was happening I closed my laptop because the music is playing and I dropped to the floor underneath my desk. I was shaking and I read a text from my advisor that just came in that she can call soon, am I ready? And I texted her back no, I heard loud bangs and it sounded like a gun, did she hear that? I didn’t hear back from her right away and I started to panic and my hands are shaking and it was hard to breathe. And I thought I’m about to die and the person I want to call is my mom and I forgot she died

I heard a voice in the hallway and another loud bang that sounded closer and then I heard more voices, but I was too afraid to get out from under my desk. I heard different voices laughing in the hallway so I crawled out from the desk and forced myself to the door. I opened it and there were three people outside and one of them had her dog and I asked if they heard the noises. And it turns out that some new faculty were moving furniture and had dropped it, and the echoes and acoustics of the building made it sound similar to gunfire. Or maybe it didn’t sound like gunfire, and it was just my brain fucking with me

I went back into my office and closed the door and cried and had a panic attack like I haven’t in years. And my advisor texted me back saying it was just people moving furniture. She ended up coming to get me and taking me home after I regulated my breathing better

And it’s just hard because my ptsd has been really manageable lately especially around school situations. I’m very rarely hyper vigilant around my students anymore and can be more relaxed. But this just took me back to a few years ago, and the constant fear and stress I felt. And I’m still shaken up and feel sick. And I miss my mom

[crienosaur]

Prequel

Azul x Reader

Warnings for a bit of blood and confused sharks

Part 1

Prequel

Part 2

Maybe part 3

The first time you spoke to Azul directly was in elementary school. You arrived a little late and the outside school grounds were quiet. As you neared the front entrance, you began to hear quiet noises. You could feel panicked heartbeats in the water along with quick wiggling. An octopus no doubt. You turned a corner where you heard the struggling coming from. To your surprise, it was a little Azul! Not only was he chubbier back then, but also much smaller. He’d grow quickly being an octo mer. His colors weren’t very developed yet and it gave the illusion of little freckles in cute patterns. “What are you doing out here?” you questioned. He didn’t notice you due to how focused he was and hearing your voice so suddenly startled him. In a motion similar to sneezing he spat a cloud of ink. This meant he was scared obviously… but he still needed help! So you backed away only slightly to give him space. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you… it’s just- I was under the impression that you were always early to class. Why are you over here?” His face relaxed, but he was still unable to answer you verbally. He leaned his main body sideways to show you two of his tentacles that were stuck between rocks. They pierced his skin a bit and blood leaked from the scrapes. “Oh no-!! I’ll try to help…” Being bigger than him meant you might be stronger. You backed up- and then darted forward! The motion generated enough force to knock the rocks apart enough for him to be freed. He started speeding away from you to the best of his ability before he noticed you had also gotten scraped up. He couldn’t let you go without repaying you!! But how would he help? You even hurt yourself just to help him… His heavy stare stayed on you for a while as he thought. Suddenly it shifted upwards and he grew pale again. He pulled you close to him with his tentacles, covering your head and your scrape and spat ink. Only after he pulled you into a safe hiding spot did you notice a poor confused shark swimming away. “It must have smelled my blood a long while ago…” Azul explained quietly. You were busy staring at him in admiration and awe. You hugged him tight scaring the crap out of him. Putting a hand in his hair calmed him down and his tentacles curled upwards. The joy he felt was indescribable. You lead him into school and you both got scolded for being late. From then on you started paying more attention to him in classes. You noticed his pretty handwriting and the way his talent for magic improved rapidly. There was still so much you wanted to know… but his “shy” nature made it difficult for you to ask. Maybe you were the one who was shy. On a rare occasion you’d look over to him only to find he was already staring at you. Locking eyes caused him to camouflage with his chair. It brightened your day. Every passing day you tried to build up more courage, but he just seemed to be getting more reserved. One day you found him heading home, completely camouflaged. You tapped his shoulder and he flinched. “What do you want…?” he grumbled. He seemed more tired than usual. You told him you were worried about him and asked if you could walk home together. You could almost feel his heartbeat quicken. He nodded anyways and stood close to you. One of his tentacles gently held your arm as he walked slowly. Neither of you were in a rush anymore. He told you about some scary eels he met that day and how the way they picked on him was unlike how others did. He confessed that he liked the way you treated him the most. It was reassuring and your hold on him strengthened a little. “I’ve had trouble with friends, too… people trick me all the time… I wish everyone was more like you,” you whispered. Your foolish attachment to him would never falter. No matter how much he changed. You let go of him and watched him disappear into his house.

[sholtiscapstone]

No. 4 Progress Update!

Hey, everyone! (LONG UPDATE!)

For this update, I wanted to say that my production went well on the 11th of March, and since then I’ve been in post-production. Post has been the most difficult process of this project, but I’ll save that for my next update, as I’m planning to send my cuts to Sharla in the coming days for her approval. 

This update, however, is about how my production went… it was HORRIBLE!

Now, that’s a bit of an exaggeration but it definitely felt like an accurate word on the day. On the Monday of filming, only a few hours before my interviewees and I were meant to meet, a person I had confirmed since January backed out. It was really hard to deal with that as one of Sharla’s biggest pushes for me with this project was to have a wide age range, and this person who backed out would have been a branch for my other two interviewees, and it’s hard to get someone in a similar age range on a random Monday at the last minute. This person canceling also caused me to miss my bus to campus so that was a whole other issue haha. 

Either way, this cancellation turned all of my plans upside down. The time I had set aside to prepare for my questions and rehearse what I was going to say was thrown out the window. Instead, my time went to contacting every single woman I knew and could rely on, asking them if they could come to film my project for a few hours. It sucked that every single person turned me down, but obviously understandable, though it did mess my morale a bit. 

Thankfully, I had asked for two of my best friends’ help behind-the-scenes that day, and had to sacrifice one of them to be on camera. This threw off things for my other friend as she had to now be in charge of monitoring cameras and checking sound, when I had hoped one could be in charge of each. It also threw off how much time we had for filming itself, as my friend who I put on camera at the last second didn’t have the same time to prepare that I gave my other interviewees, as I had asked them to come with things already prepped. I almost had another person able to take over in the stead of the one who dropped, but they couldn’t make it to campus in time for us to get useful footage. 

As for setting up, Jeff from ACM was the best as he showed my friends and I everything that needed to be done. Also, Lauren from our class was a help with showing us where to go and answering my questions over and over again haha, so thank you very much to them. Going back to Jeff, due to his patience the setup for our production was awesome. We had a lot of issues with the sound cutting in and out once we actually began filming though we got that solved ASAP. 

Now, for the actual discussion part, my interviewees were amazing. Jalen and Professor Sam killed it, and Sophie, who agreed to join only hours before, was amazing. Aubrey, my friend behind the camera, also came through controlling 3 separate cameras along with listening to our sound to make sure we were okay. Things still cut out through the filming but she got that patched in a couple of seconds each time. I do wish that people hadn’t kept coming in and out of the room, though, as my interviewees confessed afterward it distracted them, and the door is also heard on the sound, but at least that’s the least of our issues. 

Either way, I think that filming went well considering I was even able to do it. I’m grateful to have the friends and support system I do to have gotten this done. I had wanted to do a vlog to show you all my prep for that day but my entire plan got shot down due to unforeseen circumstances, but because of my support system I still was able to get things done. 

Below are some images from the set we did so you guys can all see how it turned out, and how it compares to my inspo! Anyway, I'll be posting another update in a few days about the transition from production to post, so I'll see you guys then. You should all be seeing footage by the end of this week too, so yay!

Best of luck to everyone else for these coming weeks. Almost there!! I know it's stressful but it's not as bad as it seems, really. Also, feel free to reach out to me if you need help or anything, I'm always down to support :)

[managician-tls]

Botan Affection solo - 1

Botan is a very fun character, since she's kind, but sort of absent-minded and harsh at the same time. Her trademark sweet tooth also comes to play in this.

She starts off many of her sentences with a sound of agreement (うん). So you'll see plenty of 'Mm' or 'Mhm' whenever she speaks. It's pretty cute!

Featured characters: Botan, Protag-kun. Reika also gets mentioned.

Location: Classroom

Botan: Ummm...... Ahh, you, the boy over there. Do you have a moment?

Could you enter this classroom? Maybe you were cleaning or something, I'm sorry to inconvenience you. Alright then, excuse me...... ♪

Mm. You must be "Transfer Student-kun", since you're a boy. I've heard the rumours — you help out many of the girls, right?

I also do something like that. Well, not that that matters.

I'm Botan Komatsu, from Class 3-A. I play in the Basketball Club, somewhat. Sorry for the suddenness, but could I ask you for a favour?

Don't worry, it's not anything difficult to do. I usually take care of most things on my own, anyway.

Umm. I'd like you to sample this cake a little bit.

Mm. Try eating it. Here, say aah...... ♪

Mm. There, I gave you some cake now. Could I ask for your honest opinion on it?

Mm, that's right. It really...... doesn't taste good, right?

Mm. Don't worry, I won't get angry. It's not like I'm the one that made it.

Sorry for making you basically act like a poison tester.

Mm. I thought I might be getting picky with the taste after eating too many cakes, but...... This really just tastes bad, doesn't it?

It feels like it's got the salt mixed up with the sugar, right. And it's burnt, too, but it has pretty decorations, which makes it deceitful. Overall, it causes a choking sensation?

Mm. Thank you, that was helpful.

Shall I explain the circumstances now, at least?

Um, you see. I have this one classmate named Enjouji-san.

Lately, she's been giving out handmade cakes pretty often. Enjouji-san does other things to perfection...... so, since I thought the cakes tasted bad, I wondered if there might have been something going on with my tongue.

That's why I gave you some cake to eat. What a relief, there doesn't seem to be anything wrong with my tongue ♪

Mm. The rest of my classmates, they were only singing praises for Enjouji-san. I couldn't even dare to say "This tastes bad" in that kind of atmosphere.

However, Enjouji-san won't improve like that, hm. It won't be good for her, hm. Mm, I understand. I'll be honest and tell her it tastes bad, and give her some advice, as well.

But how should I go about telling her, I wonder...... I don't want to bring down Enjouji-san's mood too much.

Mhm, mhm... Got it, I'll try saying it like that.

You've helped me plenty, Transfer Student-kun.

As a thanks, I'll give you this cake. Enjouji-san gave me lots of them, but frankly, I don't want to eat any more of this.

You don't need it? Mm, that figures, huh......?

Then, from now on...... If there's something troubling you, will you talk it out with me?

I'll act as your support, that's why. It's my thanks for what you've done for me, okay.

Mm. First up, I'll help you with the classroom cleaning I broke you off from...... ♪

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

Here are some of the NextUp streams I’ve seen from the 2023 Edinburgh Fringe Festival. A few of the other ones I’ve written about in their own posts, but these are getting grouped together, as they’re all people doing their debut Fringe hour (doesn’t necessarily mean they’re new to comedy, just the first time they’ve performed a solo show at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival), and I hadn’t heard of any of them before this month.

I decided to watch them to make it like I was actually at a festival, and at a festival, I’ll always see some stuff I didn’t previously know, and some will be good and some will be bad but horizons will be broadened. I picked these particular people for a few reasons. A couple of them came recommended, by a couple of people I know and by some comedy awards that put them on the Newcomer long list. And besides that, I read the show descriptions for most of the comedians I hadn’t heard of who were getting their Edinburgh shows streamed on NextUp, and I watched the ones that didn’t appear to be mainly about dating in your 20s and/or 30s and/or 40s. Or being married in any of those years. Or being single but wanting to find romantic love in any of those years. Not unless it looked like a really interesting story. Not that a comedy show about those things can never be good. Plenty are good. But there are too many of them, and it’s just not a topic that often resonates with me (some exceptions, obviously, some exceptions, Rose Matafeo and Josie Long off the top of my head).

So here’s what I decided to watch:

Alexandra Haddow – Not My Finest Hour

This one immediately breaks my criteria a little, it is a story of a romantic relationship. But it’s a relationship that took place quite a few years ago, and it is very much not an advertisement for relationships. Technically it’s more of a breakup show than a relationship show, and on the whole, I tend to prefer those.

I enjoyed this one. She had a lot of smart stuff to say about youth and culture and class-based socialization and regional differences and societal norms and expectations, and how fucked up it is when successful powerful older men cheat on their wives with significantly younger women. She also had a lot of good jokes. She also had a really engaging stage presence and ability to keep being interesting on any topic. And what more can we ask for from a comedy show?

Tadiwa Mahlunge – Inhibition Exhibition

This one felt more specifically like a “debut hour”, because he kept talking about his day job that he’d been doing for a long time, how he didn’t have the class privilege to commit full time to comedy, he was clearly not an experienced Fringe Festival veteran. But he was, overall, quite funny. The show wasn’t nearly as tightly structured as the previous one, it was a lot of bits that sometimes vaguely connected and sometimes didn’t, but there were a few running themes. Class, race, the importance of family, growing up as the child of immigrants. And he dealt with these subjects with no reverence and very little sentimentality; it’s not really an emotional “this is how hard it is to grow up in a refugee family” story, but it is his life story, told by a guy whose life involved growing up in a refugee family. It’s funny, he’s ridiculously charismatic, and there are some messages and shit in there as well. Just good stuff all over the board.

Ikechukwu Ufomadu – Amusements

Here’s what I like about this one: it’s officially classed as absurdist comedy, but it requires absolutely no effort on my part to accept something that’s difficult for me to get because it’s obviously outside my usual wheelhouse. By which I mean, it’s just one person with a microphone, saying words into it. All of those words connect to the previous word and the previous sentence, in ways that I can understand according to the rules of the English language as I know them. No costumes. No props (aside from a projector screen that’s used sparingly and effectively). No physical stuff. There are sort of a couple of songs near the end. But even they are just one guy singing into a microphone, and the way he moves into them makes sense. Yet, it is still absurdist comedy and I still get to credit myself with having watched and enjoyed a type of comedy outside the styles that I normally hear.

It's really hard to explain, I barely know how I can. But it was fucking funny. I laughed out loud multiple times. It isn’t structured. There’s no theme, no moral, nothing like that. He moves from one topic to another, and none of the topics make sense, and that is the joke, but they’re still funny. He talks about letters and numbers and questions and songs. He recites Shakespeare. He comes off as ridiculously cool and in control, and almost never breaks – only very rarely cracks himself up just the tiniest bit, enough to humanize him and that helps. I really enjoyed this, but I cannot for the life of me figure out how to explain it.

I just Googled it to see if anyone else has explained it, and The Guardian went with: “The fashion is for fringe newcomers to deliver solo shows all about themselves: potted autobiographies big on identity and self-assertion. By the end of Ikechukwu Ufomadu's debut, by contrast, we haven't the faintest idea who he is.” Yeah, I’d say that’s as good a description as any. He’s American, by the way, so while it is his debut Fringe show, I think he has been doing comedy for quite a while, just not in Scotland. He certainly seemed to be experienced and confident.

Bronwyn Sweeney – Off Brand

I’ll be honest – I picked this show based on what I thought the premise would be when I read the blurb, and then I turned out to be wrong. The blurb said: “In her debut hour, Funny Women finalist Bronwyn teaches audiences how to build their own personal brand in four easy steps.” So I thought it would be a character comedian, doing a parody of a brand expert teaching people how to brand themselves. And I thought that sounded good. Not incredibly original, I know. But I work with teenagers, and I see how many people are out there uncritically believing that they’re meant to do the corporations’ work for them by commodifying themselves into marketable brands, and I think that’s horrifying enough to warrant all the parody marketing gurus there are and more. I think we should be talking way more often about how fucked up that is, and if someone wants to start with some sketch comedy about it, then at least that’s something.

…I turned out to be wrong. It wasn’t a character show. Bronwyn Sweeney is a comedian who actually did used to work in advertising, and actually did, as herself, explain to the audience how to create a good brand. Which seems like a mildly horrifying premise, but it wasn’t as bad as that sentence makes it sound. The branding thing was just a conceit that helped her structure her “story of my life” debut Edinburgh show, and she used each of the four steps to personal branding as a jumping off point to talk about a different part of her life.

So at least it wasn’t a genuine attempt to encourage branding (though she did say repeatedly that she loves the concept of branding, and I’m fairly sure that was meant to be ironic, but I’m not sure she made the irony clear enough to justify it). But it was, unfortunately, a fairly boringly run-of-the-mill “story of my life” Edinburgh hour that I got tricked into watching because I thought it would have a different premise. It was fine. There was some mildly interesting stuff in there. Very little of it was funny. But to be fair, I don’t think I’m her target audience. People who like the same stuff she does would probably enjoy it more than I did.

Avital Ash – Avital Ash Workshops Her Suicide Note

This was another American, so her lack of Fringe experience doesn’t necessarily mean a lack of comedy experience, just a lack of time spent crossing an ocean for it. And that really shows. She handled some tough subjects really well. The title’s not a joke or anything, workshopping a suicide note really is the central conceit of the show (I mean, obviously it’s a joke in the sense that she is not literally planning to make this her suicide note, but she does say she genuinely struggles with suicidal desires, and has thought about what she’d write in the note, and then she spends the show discussing options).

This is one of the darkest comedy shows I’ve ever seen, but it manages to get quite a high laugh rate despite that. It goes into a bunch of rough topics (I guess this is rather spoiler-y so maybe don’t read if you think you might actually watch the show, I guess I get spoiler-y on this blog all the time without warnings, I should maybe think about spoilers more often than I do, I tend to write with the assumption that anyone reading this has either already seen it or isn’t planning to see it), like growing up in an extremely restrictive conservative religious community, the death of one parent and mistreatment by others, secrets and lies, severe mental health problems including suicide, being a woman and a queer person and experiencing sexual assault amid a repressive misogynistic religious environment. And she manages to make all of it funny. Not constantly, there are some truly harrowing bits where she doesn’t add punchlines because that would be fucked up. But to be honest, there are other bits where adding a punchline would be fucked up but she adds it anyway. This show will upset you (and by “you” I mean “me”) and make you laugh, and it will do both those things so close together, sometimes in the same line.

That’s how I can tell this person is experienced in comedy writing, even if not in Edinburgh performing. Most people would try to make this show work but it would end up just being trauma dumping, not entertainment. And that could still be good, it’s a story worth telling whether it makes people laugh or not. But Avital Ash manages to get all the trauma in there, and be consistently funny, but not in a way that takes away from the emotional impact. None of the jokes undercut the seriousness of the rest of the subject matter, or make light of it. They do the opposite – they make it darker and heavier. It’s a difficult watch but a strong show.

Mamoun Elagab – Why I Love White People

This one was certainly less heavy than the previous one, and it ended with a part where he just explained that he didn’t structure it very well, which was quite self-aware. I think what he said at the end was very accurate, which is that this has some elements of a great show, but needs some work before it becomes that. He did say he plans to work on it and bring it back next year better than ever, and I’d love to hear the updated version.

Having said that, there was lots of entertaining stuff in this version. It was another “stories of my life”-type show, not a particularly straightforward or coherent autobiography, just whatever he thinks of. But there were some throughlines about his parents that I think did have a lot in them, if he works a bit on hitting those harder.

He also had some stuff to say about race and class, but also stuff about how he doesn’t want to be known as the “race and class” comedian just because he’s black and named Mamoun Elagab, and maybe he just wants to be whimsical like James Acaster. He did have several digs at the comedy industry in general (no named comedians besides that, and it wasn’t even a dig at James Acaster, he presented it as saying he genuinely admires Acaster’s comedy and would like to do that shit, but doesn’t love that it’s a lot easier for someone who looks like James Acaster to get audiences to expect whimsey from him than it is for someone who looks like Mamoun Elagab), this one felt very “debut Fringe hour”-y, in that he’d clearly been playing clubs and stuff for a while, was just starting to try to make a transition to a bigger comedy career, and finding that difficult so decided to turn complaints about it’s difficult into material. Which is a good idea, because some of that was funny material.

Every time I write a list like this, the first few items on it get way less explanation than the later ones, because at first I tell myself it'll just be a quick list, and I get more and more into explaining things as I go along. I'll cut that off now. Watching new comedy is interesting. It isn't always amazing, but sometimes it is, and I enjoy the process.

[koravelliumavast]

A week of the Nine Delights:

Experiencing at least 3 of the 9 delights per day.

Monday: 11/7

Enthralment! I spent like an hour or so writing fanfic and it was fun and enjoyable

Deliciousness! I had the Mediterranean food place on campus for lunch and it was good! I even tried falafel for the first time and it was interesting but nonetheless delicious.

walkin around! i walked from the library back to the dorms and on my walk saw people using a vacuum type thing to pick up leaves. it was kind of smart and cool and something i would never have thought of

Tuesday: 11/8

Amelioration! it wasn’t super enjoyable but i did work on my betterment of my math skills by my stats homework. It was kind of hard and confusing but not too difficult.

Wildcard! I got all the assignments that are due by the end of the week done this morning and that felt really nice to check things off the list. And since I didn’t have anything to do this afternoon i got to play the sims for a little bit which is always a plus

Fellowship! Met some new people!!

Wednesday: 11/9

Amelioration! I got myself out of bed and got to my chem lecture at 7:45 even though I didn’t want to and got better at my chem knowledge so sick!

Deliciousness! I tried something new and VERY american: crab Rangoon pizza. And interestingly enough it was delicious?

Wildcard! Music! I got to spend like an hour today reading and also listening to music and it was great. I love being able to spend time with earbuds in playing music as it makes everything feel much more relaxing and not as much. Plus it’s always fun to be able to find pockets of calm in your day for sure.

Walking around! Today was one of the last nice days in a while and I got about 3 miles in of just walking around

Thursday: 11/10

Fellowship! My learning community went to the tearoom today and we had a good ol time with laughter and whatnot.

Deliciousness! I had some focaccia bread today at the tearoom and it was really good. I also had lasagna and I was suprised that I liked it because I HATE lasagna. (It’s a texture thing. I don’t like cottage cheese.) maybe they used ricotta or something idk

Goofing! Seeing people in shorts and a short sleeve shirt being cold because it was like 70°(21C) and humid at like 8am but within the span of a few hours it wasn’t humid, got windy and dropped over 20 degrees and is now 47°(8.3C) but feels like 35°(1.6C) and it’s only getting colder.

Friday: 11/11

Goofing! laughing in class because the professor asked what the caloric content of reduced fat nilla wafers was if it says 60% reduced fat and the regular one has 140 calories and she showed the front of the box where it says 120 calories right on it.

Wildcard! First snow of the year! Not anything more than a flurry

Deliciousness! This Oreo cake in the dining center.

Saturday: 11/12

Transcendence! I felt really on top of everything this morning and did some things that I just haven’t been able to do all semester (washing sheets deep cleaning under desk etc)

Wildcard! We got the first snowfall of the year!

Antifellowship(?)! I spent like all day alone and it was great and exactly what I needed.

Sunday: 11/13

Enthralment! I Heard a new song today that made me sit there jawdropped in awe over its musicality. Please listen to it if you have 12 minutes it’s so beautiful. I cried.

Wildcard! I got a lot of reading done and I finished both the bands of mourning and howls moving castle and

Goofing! Allomancer Jak and the pits of Eltania is the funniest cosmere story I’ve read (no debating on this)

Reflection:

So all in all I feel that finding at least three of the 9 delights in my day helped make me feel more motivated in doing things and by the end of the week I felt more relaxed and less stressed about the week to come. Most daily lifestyle things are about strengthening your body it seems but this is great for your mind. Even on the days when I felt like shit physically (cramps yay) my focus and drive to get things done was going good, which is interesting because normally my focus is all outta wack during those days as my adhd meds don’t help regulate as well. I’ll definitely continue to stick with finding the 9 delights of the days. However I might change them slightly to fit me more. Like instead of coitus maybe musicality as that’s something that’s more delightful and something I’d see in my day much more than some fuckin.