#the trans students and their classmates who hear their teacher respect them. my brother is no longer homophobic he's bi lol and

[holyviolence]

omg i spent the whole day cleaning my entire apartment because my family was coming to visit and 1) so so so happy my adhd is being medicated now it's literally changing my life and 2) i FINALLLY got through to my dad about how he probably has ADHD too!!!!! he finally said Yeah i think i might have adhd. and my mom was like Me too (we've had this talk privately before, she knows she has adhd too lol) And my brother is literally transferring to a different school because he can't concentrate and isn't disciplined at his current uni. adhd family.

[thegraphitesword-blog]

Pride Prompt Month 13/30: Graveyard Shift

Fandom: One Sugar or Two

Relationship: Trans! James and Olivia

Notes: So this one is a little off topic and nontraditional but I had trouble figure out what to do for this with out being repetitive. But, I just wanted write something and I guess I ran out of ideas or whatever. I have the rest of the month planned out soooooo ._.

More Notes: So, James graduates with a fine arts degree and is offered a position as assistant teacher at Nayak University. Like I had mentioned before, James is very, very mentally dysfunctional and struggles with severe and destructive insomnia, psychosis, anxiety and depression. Save my poor baby! (all of them are my babies but literally all of the male characters have something tragically wrong). Also, Olivia is a sweetheart (thank the @basementtreasure for that)

Prompt: Graveyard Shift

James’s Pov

I graduated about a year and a half ago, and it never occurred to me, I’d be in the same classroom at 3 in the morning. I appreciated Mr. Klein taking me in as his assistant teacher and that he trusted me with his Freshman Art Fundamentals class, while he was on vacation, but being hunched over a desk reading the art analysis papers was.....not what I had in mind.

It didn’t help that I hadn’t really slept all week and was way too focused on not making a mess of class, to take breaks and eat. Don’t mistake my intentions, I loved the students. Hungry for the understanding of advanced art and talented in more way than I could imagine. Sure, it was a drag that a group of them in my 10:30 class refused to call me by my name; ever since Justin and Samantha found out that James Alexander was actually Jamie, they took their trans-phobia to a whole new level.

But, that was just a small fraction of my/Klein’s students. I smiled grading Miss. Parker’s analysis on Magritte's various works focusing on the painting “the son of man”. She was one of my favorites, though I treated everyone with the same respect. Still, she was the first one to protest the idea of the other classmates ignorance, and the first to ask if things were okay.

I’d be lying if I said, I hadn’t been caught watching the shadows or completely stopping during a lecture.

I glance at the monstrous stack of paper I still had to finish for my last class of the day, wishing I had some tea or something warm, but when I was offered the position, I regrettably developed a habit of drinking caffeine constantly. Kit and Olivia were more than concerned and Alex on more than one occasion stole my energy supplements and drinks. I wouldn’t have minded if my body hadn’t gone through withdraws the days following and I couldn’t handle the pressure of teaching and the symptoms at the same time.

My students thought it was funny to see their 25 year old teacher’s collection of 5-hour energy bottles, all painted and filled with sand and the numerous Monster can, cut and pulled into thin aluminum decorations around the room. Of course, I knew the dangers. How it negated my medication and amplified the shadows, but it became a nervous habit onto itself.

I pull out my phone and scroll through the various emails the students had sent me that day. Two were from Amanda alone.

From: parker.amanda@Nayak.edu

To: Alexander.Ja@Nayak.edu

Sorry to bother you sir, 

I was going to follow up with the question, I asked in class.

She goes on with a discussion of the day’s homework assignment and questions she had regarding the value of textures and brush strokes.

I answer her numerous questions and read the extension.

Mr. Alexander, 

I hate to say this, but a few students and I have been concerned. Not, that I know what’s best for your situation, but you seemed extremely distracted and anxious today. i know this a normal thing, but it was much more than normal. All of us hope you are okay.

Amanda

I dropped my phone, groaning.

“Christ alive.”

It was hard to admit that I can’t always keep things together, but it stung my students were messaging me, about my health. I pull out another bottle of 5-hour energy. This will be my....fourth one today?

Who knows.

Pulling off the plastic, i shook the fluid absently. there were so many read flags to having another, but anxiety is a hell of a thing. I took sips of the caffeine shot, flipping through more paper, for about a half an hour, before things took a turn.

The major draw back to consuming large amounts of caffeine on an empty stomach is....it doesn’t sit well or stay long. I rest my pen against Jeremy’s paper, leaning my head back, trying to ignore the dizziness and nausea.

“I hate being me.”

I keep my eyes closed trying to sort out the discomfort. Regrets filter through my frazzled, exhausted mind. I’m tempted to call it a night and save the rest for tomorrow morning, but the thought of being irresponsible pushed me to pick up my pen. My head is reeling as I try and focus on the black and white pages.

“Focus. Come one...”

Panic sets in as the noises I usually tune out grow in sheer volume. Something is breathing over my shoulder and I can feel nails dragging up my lower back.

It had been a while, since I had been overwhelmed by my hallucinations, the snakes of black slithering around my ankles, the hissing over my shoulder and so on. Not that I was surprised. With how I treated my self, it was a shock it took this long.

I grip the sides of my head, trying to recenter my thoughts. It works, for the most part, til something grabs my throat and I fall back. i hear the chair leg crack and I scramble back, not daring to look at whatever had escaped the shadows. Hyperventilating was the only thing I could I count at the moment.

Stress...StressStressSTRESS. I could feel it filling my body to the overflowing point. I cover my mouth coughing, as little air squeezes into my lungs. I choked on the air, like my brother used to in asthma attacks, vision blurred and spotted. My stomach contacted and acid fought its way up my throat, squeezing out of the gaps in my fingers. I didn’t have time to even move, before the coughing became entangle with retching. 

The moment stopped as soon as it started, my body seemingly content with the expulsion of the awful drinks I lived off of all week. I sucked in large breathes, trying to take the reigns of the hyperventilating, and as my composure resurfaced, the shadows slunk back into the corner of the room.

“I....really....hate my life.”

I waited a little while longer, hoping things would settle and I could go back to grading papers. The only thing that deterred me...was the disgusting mess down the front of my sweater. I hadn’t planned on going back to the apartment, especially since, at this stage of my mental destruction, driving was dangerous.

I carefully pull of my favorite navy sweater....only to realize that the thin button up I was wearing almost less suitable. Not only was it a pale peach, but it screamed, “Hey this one’s a girl.” 

Pinching the bridge of my nose was all I could do to restrain my frustration. It completely slipped my mind that Olivia let me borrow the shirt for an interview with a group on campus that.....were less than accepting of the LGBTQ+ community.

I paced the room, thinking, “It was 4:26. first was 7:30, it took 20 minutes to get to the apartment, about 15 to get back and above all at least 3 hours to finished the papers.”

My options were limited and I really didn’t want a repeat of my anxiety attack. My eyes rested on my phone.

“God, I hate my life.”

Olivia was my speed dial 1, Alex was 2, and Kit was 3. Kit would come, but he had a performance last night and he probably went to sleep a few hours ago. Alex doesn’t wake up before 8, so I don’t like he would even wake up if I called him. I hit the lavender bundle icon and wait.

It wring 4 times and I hang up, only to be startled by it sounding, the second I set my phone down.

“Good Morning.”

“James, what’s wrong it’s not even 5.”

“I am in need of assistance.”

I hear movement and I can tell, she already has her shoes on.

“Do you need anything?”

“A sweater and a shirt. Preferably not a button up.”

“Be there soon.”

It’s humiliating to have my girlfriend do this, but sometimes one has to set aside pride. Instead of pacing the room, I clean up my shameful mess and grade more paper til Olivia rushes in the room.

“James! Are you okay?”

She hugs me and I instinctively stiffen, even with her, i hate physical contact.

“Sorry, what happend?”

 “I presume caffeine overload, fueling an anxiety attack, resulting in a short burst of expulsion.”

She picks up the empty bottle of 5-hour energy, disgusted.

“How many?”

She’s got me there. I fiddle with my pen whispering 4.

“Jesus, you do realize that you’re only suppose to have 2 a day and with your circumstance none!”

“Yes, I do. Yet, at the same time they have become a nervous reflex.”

Olivia squeezes my hand, “James. You need to take care of yourself.”

Ever since my mother died, I resented those words. She always told me to take care and nice to my body. She sometimes stayed up with me and make me tea or read stories to chase away the nightmares. She was the only one who cared when I lived at home. My brothers tortured me and my father suppressed every aspect of my life.

I yank my hand away, pulling another essay from the pile.

“If my body wanted to be taken care of, it would not be so inefficient at surviving.”

“Alright, that’s it. I am cutting you off. NO caffeine  outside of tea. I will not stand for you being so stubborn and idiotic.”

She doesn't give me the chance to respond, shoving a plastic bag of clothes in my hands and rummaging through my bag. Sadly, I had tomorrows dose of caffeinated drinks; 3 5-hour energy, 2 20oz Monsters and a green tea SoBe. She placed the in front, I don’t look her in the eyes.

“I would prefer you do not lecture me on my caffeine addiction,”

“It won’t be an addiction for long, trust me.”

I pull out the clothes, holding my burgundy sweater, the one with white stitching and a white hem. One of my favorite, second to navy one and the shirt was my Jack’s Mannequin tee. 

“I also brought you a new binder. The light grey one.”

Olivia was the best. Unbuttoning my shirt. I was wearing and stretched out. Olivia ran a finger over few of the scars on my stomach. One was from my surgery after I developed stomach ulcers. The others where caused by psychotic breakdowns, when I was younger.

Olivia brushes my hair, but it doesn’t really register through my emptiness.

“Do you mind turning around?”

“Oh, yeah.”

She backs up and spins around, hiding her face. I shimmy out of my black binder, momentarily observing my chest. Most things about myself, were annoying and undesirable, my 34Cs were definitely one of them. I remember the days and nights, I spent trying to build muscle and get them to “dissolve”, but my geneticsc weren’t favorable.

I slip on the gray full torso binder and then the tee.”

“You can turn around, Olivia.”

She hugs me, this time I was ready and I melted into her arms, exhausted, humiliated and defeated.

“I love you, Navy Knight.”

She kissed my forehead and collected my banned drinks. I watched her pack.....and then pull up a chair.

“You thought you could get rid of me?”

“Not particularly.”

She laughed, grabbing a pen, “Hand me some paper.”

“Olivia, this is my class. You are not even a visual arts student.”

“I know. I was planning on writing down your lecture for today, since you will definitely are behind.”

A blush spreads over my face, she always has me pegged.

“You spoil me.”

“James, I give you the basic human necessities you so cruely  deny yourself.”

I chuckle, “Maybe...”

“Alright, I look forward to seeing you in class Monday. Remember Professor Klien will be returning on Sunday. I appreciate you all giving me the ability to develop my teaching skills.”

I dismiss the class and a few students give me their thanks and best wishes. I ressure them that I will still be the assistant teacher to Prof. Klien. It was encouraging that majority of students gave me praise and thanks for the last week and a half. They all left and I collapsed into the nearest chair.

“Jesus.”

I barely survived my first experience teaching, but it was eye opening. I loved it...but I needed to make some changes if it is going to be something I want to do as a profession. I pack my paper and bag, mentally preparing for making the reports to Mr. Klein and my plans for Monday as I start my normal job. 

“You seem happy.”

I probably jumped a foot in the air, at Olivia’s voice. She was in the doorway, hair tied back and smiling.

“It is a relief to be finish caring the sole responsibility of a freshman class.”

She saunter closer, in her angelic manor, “Well I have one request, Professor.”

“Yes?”

She presses a kiss on my cheek, “You owe me about a week worth of cuddling. I will either take them in bursts or you can join me for a cuddle-a-thon and movies.”

“Olivia, I have reports to write and file, and assignments to sort for Mr. Klein and-”

She cuts me off, kissing my lips this time. I shudder torn about my responsibilities as a teacher and boyfriend. There are so many things I have to do, things I have made promises to up hold. I couldn’t just abandon them. That would be selfish. I feared nothing more in life than being selfish. At the same time.....I hadn’t seen Olivia since she came to the classroom at 5am. And that was five days ago. I knew so many things, both obvious and hidden. I knew that my friends cared and were worried, I knew that I was tearing myself apart under the false pretense of it being my suicidal body. I knew that Olivia missed me more than I could even understand and no matter what I tell myself, I wanted to relax and do something other than stress over my life. I tried to convince myself I needed to work...

 Instead,  I kiss her back, unsure and tentative. She invites more and ran a finger across my cheek. We never were very comfortable with feats of affection privately or publicly, me especially. I break away, covering my face.

“I take that as a yes?”

She laughs, the both of us walking hand in hand through the campus to her car.

I forgot how pleasent it was to actually lay down. Weither it was a bed or couch or whatever, letting the tension go, was fulfilling. Olivia suggested a combo of sci-fi and action (together our collection of movies, was almost ridiculous). Despite my displeasure, Olivia refused to let me leave the comfort of the couch, tangling me in blanket to the point I couldn’t break free. Dinner for the night, something Kit brought over, popcorn and Valerian root tea ( special blend I drank since I was diagnosised with insomnia, when I was about 10). 

To be honest, i don’t remember the movies, though I had seen them dozens of times, nor did I remember what we did that night. All I could register was, the warmth of tea, blanket, and Olivia; quick kisses, and the reassuring feeling of her hands petting my hair. It was inevitable she would fall asleep first, but listening to her soft breathing, was the best sleep aid I could have asked for. Even if I had things to do and promises to keep, I made a promise to her.

And after almost a week, I let go of the world and drifted off, with the thought of Olivia’s love in my head.