#corona's textbook

[antiquepearlss]

Tiana The Series really needs to hire me as a writer because I’ve already got plans on how we’re going to subtly incorporate tts into it.

[yardsards]

whats the song named amity u mentioned? the one the singer compares amity to hello kitty?

song is amity by elliott smith

[kokofromwattpad]

Dearest tutor

Plot: Star student of the Royal Academy has been sent to tutor the only Prince of the Imperial Royal family of Lilabett Corona. They then somehow enrapture the interest of the prince and his elder sister, the Crown Princess.

Cw: Crown princess! Female! Yandere x Tutor! Gn! Reader x prince! Yandere, mentions of torture, mentions of cult(briefly), blood, yandere tendencies.

A/N: Holy fucking shit it's finally out, I'm sososo excited.

Word count: 5.3k

The student stood outside the gate of the Imperial palace with sweat streaking down the side of their face from the harsh blaze of the sun. They had textbooks held under their armpit, tightly to their right side as their left had awkwardly tried to fix the hair that had begun to fall into their sightline.

[Name][Lastname] was an extraordinary person when it came to academics. They excelled in any subject they were put in and always came out on the very top of the board when the exam results had been revealed.

But they were born with common blood flowing through their veins. Their father was a poor baker and their mother was a school teacher for the orphans by the local children's home. Because their mother had always prided herself with the fact that she believed that knowledge was a better virtue than beauty, their mother would make [Name] read and memorise any textbooks she could get her hands on.

While [Name] considered it good luck that they were able to enrol in the royal academy and had gotten a full scholarship, they were petrified when they found a neatly folded envelope on their dorm bed with a wax seal baring the Imperial family's coat of arms.

The summarised version of the letter read that the imperial advisor acknowledged their extreme academic prowess and wanted them to visit the imperial palace to tutor the empire's only prince in the few subjects he had been recently struggling with in his own classes.

Terrified out if their mind, [Name] agreed in the most cursive calligraphy they could muster with their violently shaking hand.

And now, every Monday, Wednesday and Friday, the young student will have to spend their afternoon tutoring a bratty prince. Honestly, they were shaking in their boots from the mere thought of having to interact with royalty.

A cough abruptly interrupted the student's thoughts and made them shoot their head up in surprise. A tall man with long midnight black hair stood on the other side of the twisting gate. He looked to be in his late 30s, with a face and aura that screamed 'strict' and 'do not get me mad'. His dark hair was swept up to a waterfall like pony tail at the back of his head. He wore thin lensed glasses that seemed to be nearly falling off the tip of his nose. Hie eyes however were a lovely soft sage colour.

The man placed his right hand above his heart and bowed only his head at the young student. "Good evening mx.[Lastname]. My name is Von Alaric-Holloway. It is the Koinig family's honor to have you tutor your young master." he greeted. His voice was as smooth as his hair. The student nodded at his words. "The honour is all mine Mr.Alaric-Holloway." they said back, not trusting their voice to say anything else without stuttering, or falling over their own words.

Von nodded his head at the guards, giving them the silent order to open the sill closed gates.

The gates swept open as swift as the wind, letting the advisor and the student stand in front of each other face-to-face. Von nodded his head again at the student, signaling them to follow him as he pushed his falling glasses back up the bridge of his nose. He walked gracefully, with both of his hands held tightly behind his back and his head raised high in pride. The student trailed after him, struggling to keep up with his pace.

"The young master is about two years younger than you are, so he is around your age. The empress hopes that you and her grandson will become good friends with each other." Von said in quick voice, not giving [Name] the chance to actually process the words he was saying.

The student nearly nodded their head at his words and kept their head down. Every guard or maid that the pair walked past, bowed their head down, and gave sympathetic looks towards the two. Obviously, [Name] was going to notice by the third or fourth time that they had done this.

"Mr.Alaric-Holloway, why is everyone giving us such pitiful looks?" they asked the him.

Von cocked his eyes towards the sound of [Name]'s question. "I suppose it is because of the rumour that the young master is a troubled child." Von pushed his falling glasses back up the bridge of his nose. [Name] nodded at his words and continued to follow his pace down marble walkway.

Finally the two came to a grandiose staircase with gold linings that supposedly lead to the prince's study.

A young girl stood at the very top of the stairwell.

She looked around a year younger than [Name], so possibly 17 years old. She was short but not too short. She had long golden, nearly glowing blonde hair that was tied into a flattering bun to the back of her head. She wasn't wearing any makeup, which was odd for a noble to do. Her eyelashes were blonde as well. She was also wearing what seemed to be a military training uniform. [Name] noted to themself that this woman looked like a sinister fairy. The only reason she seemed sinister was from the deep red eyes that was embedded into her sockets and the very real and very sharp sword being held in a leather scabbard attached to her left hip.

"Von, may I ask who this commoner is, who is trespassing into my home?" she quipped at the advisor.

Von kneeled on his right knee with his right hand covering his heart again. His face had a thin layer of sweat covering it as he stared intensely at the ground.

"Crown princess, Frieda. The commoner behind me is prince Beta's new tutor. They are here to assist the prince in a few academy subjects that he is having trouble grasping." Von answered in a wavering version of usual tone of voice.

'Wait... what did he say? Crown princess...?' thought [Name] as they stared blankly at the blonde woman.

'SHIT!'

Once they're sense of self preservation finally returned to them, [Name] fell to their knees and buried their head into the cold flooring.

The Crown princess stayed silent at the student's sudden movements. She gracefully walked down the flight of stairs, and stood infornt of [Name]'s bowing head.

"Please raise your heads you two." she commanded in a gentle but firm voice.

[Name] raised their head, only to see that the princess was kneeling infront of them. She held the student's jaw in her right hand and lifted it higher. She turned their head left and right, checking both sides of their face.

She then got back on both of her feet and looked down to the student with a grin. "Take good care of my little brother, alright?"

The student was stunned into silence, but quickly shook their head in agreement. Satisfied with their answer, the princess strieded away, down a seperate hallway from the pair and disappeared from their line of sight.

Von let out a what sounded to be a strangled out sigh of relief. He then whipped his head to look at [Name] with an odd look to his face. He then got up and helped the student back to their own feet, while their feet wobbled from how scared they were from the encounter.

Surely the prince couldn't be that bad if that was the CROWN princess?

He wasn't as bad as they had originally thought.

[Name] had introduced themself to the Sixteen year old prince of the empire, with no response.

He looked nearly identical to the Crown princess. Same glowing gold hair, same deep red hair. His skin wasn't tanned, rather it was a pale white colour, showing how little time he spent outside, the complete opposite of his sister.

The prince was quiet, scarily so. Whenever he was finished answering an exercise, he would look ominously at the young student until they noticed and would mark it for him and then explain how he got whichever answers wrong.

"Do you understand Prince Beta?" [Name] would ask.

The prince would then just nod at their words and write down his corrections next to his wrong answers.

The main sound that echoed throughout the study was the grandfather clock that stood in the corner, signaling the end and beginning of every second. [Name] almost every ten minutes would quickly whip their eyes towards the clock, checking to see when they could leave and run back to their dormitory back on school campus.

Once the Prince was finished with his exercises, he pulled out a thick, leatherback book from a drawer in his office desk. The lettering on the front read in gold cursive 'The rise and fall of cults.'

'Holy fucking shit. This brats' into cults' thought the student.

Instead of feeling an impending sense of neverending doom, they almost squeeled in absolute delight.

[Name][Lastname] was a true crime junkie.

Every murder mystery case, every cult, they knew all about it. The reasons as for the murders, the childhoods of the cult leaders. They. Knew. Everything.

The student cautiously stalked closer to the Prince, like how naive prey checks to see if it's predator is asleep. The Prince lifted his head from the inside of his book to look at the person coming closer and closer to him.

The student asked prudently, "Prince Beta, are you a fan of true crime?"

His eyes almost immediately grew a light in them that was not there before. His cheeks tinged a bit with pink as he looked curiously at the young student. "Are you?" he asked back.

Quickly, the student nodded their head aggressively, agreeing with the prince's question.

A smile stretched onto the boy's face almost immediately. "You are?! You don't think it's an odd interest?!" he screamed out.

[Name] nodded again with an even larger smile on their face. "Yes of course! I find true crime ever so fascinating! I'm even studying to go into criminology when I graduate!"

The Prince's eyes nearly sparkled like a small child's. He immediately got up from his chair and ran up to the young student. He wrapped his fingers around [Name]'s hands and brought them up in a clasp.

He then burst out in exclamation, "You, as of now, are my best friend!"

Being the new best friend of the only Prince of the Empire came with a lot of responsibilities. He now follows the commoner student around the academy grounds like a lost puppy. People had begun to whisper about how [Name] had cast some sort of spell on the prince to make him lighten up so much.

Because of his much more friendly nature, a lot of people had begun to approach him, hoping to become as close to the prince as [Name] did, but all he would do is wrap his arms around [Name]'s left arm and drag them away as he ranted away about a new cultist book he got his hands on a couple days ago.

At the end of the school day, [Name] went back to their dorm room to rest until dinnertime. They did not have to tutor Prince Beta that day since it was a Thursday, so [Name] was able to catch up on their loss of sleep.

They fell onto their creaky bed and groaned from the ache they felt in their bones. The young student shoved their head into the sunken-in pillow and nearly fell asleep.

Suddenly, a loud knock echoed throughout the small bedroom. [Name] groaned loudly again and got up to answer the person outside the door. The student opened their dorm door to be met with a maid in her early thirties. "Mail." she stated and then gently handed the student a neat envelope. That was unusual. Usually, the maids would shove their mail, tear it up, they would even spit on their mail. They did all of this just because the student was a commoner.

The maid walks away from the open doorway, leaving [Name] alone with their thoughts. They closed the door and stalked back to their small, wobbly desk.

The envelope was sealed with a ruby red seal, bearing the seal of the Imperial family. [Name] fingered the envelope open and took the letter out with soft fingers. The letter was written by the Crown princess, written in curly and swirly handwriting. It was an invitation to a small tea party with a couple of other noble ladies who were friends with the Crown princess.

[Name] wrote in simple print lettering a thanks and acceptance to the invitation. They licked and sealed it closed. The student then left to go to the on campus post office to send it to the Crown princess.

The student then went back to their dorm to go and try to fall asleep again.

[Name] stood outside the large glass greenhouse in the back garden of the Imperial palace. Abruptly, a young maid opened the door of the greenhouse to let the student enter.

"Welcome Mx.[Lastname]. The Crown princess has been waiting eagerly for you. Please follow me." greeted the maid as she bowed shallowly. [Name] nodded as well in greeting and followed behind the maid as quickly as they could.

The maid lead the young student through different sections of flowers ranging in shapes, sizes, and colour. What specifically caught [Name]'s attention was a small patch of pink Azaleas. 'How lovely.' thought [Name]

After a little bit more walking, the maid had lead the young student to an elevated seating area, where several tables and chairs were sprawled about.

The Crown princess sat at a table right in the middle. She was wearing a lovely red dress, with a cascading skirt that swept below her ankles. It had puffed out, see through red sleeves thst reached up too her knuckles. Her hair was tied up in a pretty up-do hairstyle, leaving little bit of hair hanging on her shoulders. Overall, she exuded an air of elegance and superiority.

Crown princess Frieda noticed that [Name] was standing on her left side, making her sweep her head in her direction. A small smile graced her face as she welcomed the student, "Good morning Mx.[Lastname], a pleasure to see you once again."

Frieda then stood up, showing her velvet red heels with a large diamond studded into the front of it. The princess pulled out the empty chair that was next to her, and gestured for them to sit down next to her. Understanding her intention, [Name] sluggishly walked up to the princess and sat down in the seat she wanted them to sit in.

The Crown princess sat back down in her original chair and sipped on her tea. Slowly, [Name] reached out and took a cookie from the large platter of baked goods. A maid came to the student's side and poured some tea into their cup as they nibbled on the sweet treat.

"So Mx.[Lastname], you are the commoner who attends the royal academy, correct?" quipped a young daughter of unnamed Baron. She placed her teacup back down in the saucer and with a smile, rested her smiling face on her intertwined fingers.

The student looked up from their cookie with a confused expression painted on their face. Recovering quickly from their confusion, they answered in shaky voice, "Indeed. I am able to attended the Royal Academy due to a scholarship I was gifted on my 16th birthday."

The baron's daughter giggled and whispered something into the woman's ear right next to her. The commoner looked down embarrassingly into their lap, wondering what they had said to warrant such a reaction from the other woman.

The Crown princess was sitting at the head of the table, her head held high, making everyone aware of her presence. The tutor sat on the seat on Frieda's left side, which definitely caused some stares from the other attendees. Definitely wasn't a good look for the poor tutor.

Frieda coughed into her clenched fist and looked at Alicia with a blank look on her face. "The honourable Alicia Crusainia. Please mind your manners towards my guest. Don't forget your place here."

Alicia's face became a bright, hot tomato red and looked down at her lap, similarly to the young student. "Mx. [Lastname]. Lift your head."

Almost under a spell, [Name] lifted their head from their lap and looked at the Crown princess in awe. Frieda was looking at [Name] with an odd looking face with her eyebrow raised. It was a mix of boredom and curiosity.

"You are my honored guest. My little brother treasures you quite a lot, therefore, so must I." She stated as if it was a well known fact.

"Yes, your royal highness." They said in a calm and deft tone.

Freida nodded her head, making her golden curls bounce. She then turned and took another sip of her tea.

"So, [Name]! How was the tea party with my sister?" questioned Beta during one of his and the student's tutoring sessions.

The student looked at Beta with a confused look on their face. "It was alright, nothing special happened." They answer the prince.

Looking confused, Beta's head knocked to the side. "Really? Because from what I heard, my sister ripped some Baron's daughter a new one for making fun of you!"

'Making fun of me? Was that what she was doing?' [Name] thought to themselves.

"It seems that you were unaware. Maybe I could ask my sister to invite you to balls more often so that you can get better at catching on to these things!" Beta suggests with a large smile on his face, proud of his brilliant idea.

"No no no no no! I could barely handle a simple tea party! No way I'll be able to survive a ball where I have to dance!" [Name] panicked.

The prince pouted at their words, disappointed in their answer. He slumps over his desk and makes his head fall into the crook of his arms. His blonde hair fell over his arms, looking like a veil over his arms.

"Mhm.... I mean.... if you can convince your sister, and I don't have to dance... then I'll agree." [Name] softly said, scratching the back of their neck in nervousness.

Beta's head immediately shot up and with an absolutely large smile, he nodded aggressively convincing the student that he may be half bobble head.

"Then you will come to my birthday ball, right?"

[Name] answered, "Of course your majesty."

The student then sat down across from the young prince with their textbook and continued on with their lesson.

After the lesson was completed, [Name] was walking steadily through the velvet covered floors of the castle's hallways. The student placed their hands on the back of their neck and rubbed tough circles into the nape of their neck, relaxing their muscles after two and a half hours of being on the tip of their toes. Even though Prince Beta had claimed them as their best friend, [Name] still stayed on guard around him, just incase he was the type to have extreme mood swings.

[Name] groaned in pleasure as they passed through another hallway of the residential wing of the Imperial castle.

"Mx.[Lastname], have you finally finished your lesson with my brother?" a voice asked behind the student.

The student whipped their head around and caught the eyes of the young Crown Princess.

The Crown Princess was wearing a light cream colored dress with many flowy layers that what [Name] assumed was to let wind in more easily to cool the princess down.

"Your Royal Highness, you are correct. I have just finished mine and the prince's tutoring session." answered the student with a cautious look on their face.

Frieda giggled maturely at the look of [Name]'s wary expression. "Have no worry Mx.[Lastname], I don't bite." she joked.

They nodded at the Princess's words.

"Then why don't you join me in my office for some tea? I'd like to discuss something of importance with you." she proposed.

The student nodded, making the princess walk past their side and leading them towards the direction of her office. The pair walked past several paintings of similar blonde haired individuals, who the student assumed was members of the Imperial family who had unfortunately passed.

The two came to two large wood doors that lead to Frieda's office. One of the guards who were standing on duty, opened the doors for the pair to let them in.

[Name] realised that the Crown princess' favourite colour was a red and gold. Many of the furniture was lined with a deep velvet including the long curtains with gold linings and stitches. The only things that were not those two colours were the floor, her desk and her book shelves that lined every wall of the office.

In the middle of the room were two overstuffed couches with a coffee table in the middle, most likely to hold meetings such as the one the student and princess were about to have.

"Tell Isabella to prepare some tea for my guest and I. Also tell her to bring some of the new pastries we received from the Levan kingdom." The princess ordered one of the knight, making him turn is tail and gallop to where [Name] guessed was where the maid was.

"Please Mx.[Lastname], take a seat." Frieda says while gesturing to the couch.

With unprecedented caution, they shift over to the sofa and sit down and nearly sink in due to cushiness. The princess giggle from their distress as they tried to sit up in the embracing seat.

A maid enters the office with a cart being pushed by her. Ontop was a large teapot and two teacups with saucers. On the level below it was a tower of pastries which [Name] recognised from it's appearance at the tea party from the day before.

The maid sets the teacups and saucers down in front of the pair and quickly prepares the tea and pastries. She then curtsys to the Crown princess, bows her head at the young student, turns on her heel and leaves.

Frieda languidly picks the teacup up and takes a long sip of the steaming hot tea. While [Name] is wandering how the princess is not reacting to the pain of the most definitely hot beverage, Frieda speaks up, "I have asked you to come here with me today because I would like to apologise to you."

She places the teacup down in it's saucer and looks and [Name] with a sympathetic look on her face. "What the honorable Alicia Crusainia did at my tea party was extremely rude and uncaring. She simply has no idea how tough one's life can be."

[Name] stunded in silence. Why was the Crown princess apologising to a commoner like them? Not wanting to deny the princess' words, the student looked down into the light brown of their tea and said, "It's alright. Honestly speaking, I didn't even understand what she had said, so I didn't feel anything."

Frieda looks surprised at their words. "But aren't you the top student at the Royal Academy? How could you not know?" She questioned.

They look embarrassed as they quickly answer, "I am just book smart! And I honestly have a lot of trouble applying my knowledge in real-life situations. I read a royal etiquette book before I left for the palace, but it honestly didn't come in very handy..." they muttered off.

The Crown princess' face morphed into a look of conviction. "Then, after school every day when you don't have to tutor Beta, you will spend it with me, and I will teach you everything you need to know about social cues, etiquette, conversations, everything!" the princess says in a voice that screamed determined.

Nearly jumping out of their chair, [Name] tries to plead that the princess did not need to go out of her way to teach a commoner. The princess merely ignored them and gently ordered them to eat the prepared pastries.

Now the young student's weekly schedule would consist of every Monday, Wednesday and Friday being spent tutoring Beta, and every Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday and Sunday being tutored by the Crown princess. They would almost always leave the palace absolutely drained of their energy, a mere husk of their former self as they rode the carriage baring the Imperial coat of arms back to the dorm houses on the school campus.

The days were feeling longer and longer as Beta's birthday ball's date came closer and closer. The blonde prince would chat with the young student about anything and everything that came to his mind. The friendship between the two of them had become even stronger than before for no particular rhyme or reason. Beta would lug behind them during school hours, despite not being in the same year, and would frighten off the little amount of friends that the student would have had before the prince.

Soon enough, Beta's birthday ball came up.

A formal invitation had already been sent to them, written personally by the spry prince himself in loopy lettering.

The student got dressed in the most formal clothes they had on hand. Sure it was a bit tattered and a few small holes were sprinkled on the ends, but it would be fine as long as no one looked at them! And besides, they're a commoner! They are probably just going to sit in the corner of the hall and only get up to get more food and drinks.

With that plan in mind, the student climbed carefully into the imperial branded carriage once again and rode off to the party.

Soon enough, the young student arrived at the Imperial palace. They stumbled out of the carriage and brisket walked into the large building, not wanting to be noticed by the announcer so that they could hide away as best as can from the nobles attending the ball that night.

They had finally reached the banquet hall, entering and hiding away from plain sight from the noblesmen and women.

"Now then! Announcing the entrance of Crown Princess Frieda Köinig and Prince Beta Köinig!" announced a high ranking servant from the top of the large staircase in the middle of the banquet hall.

The entire hall was decked to the nines with red, gold and white. The diamonds hanging from the chandelier were burning even more brighter than what the young student assumed was usual. Long banquet tables were lined with finger foods of all varieties.

A servant walked up to the scholar and offered them a tall flute of champagne. Gingerly, they took the glass off the tray, making the servant walk away, and taking a few sips and proceeding to nearly lurch it out from the taste. Okay, they are definitely not a fan of champagne, duley noted.

In that moment, the Crown Princess and the prince entered through the doors at the top of the stairs. Beta held his elder sister's hand in his as he lead her down the stairs. All of the noblemen and women stared in awe of the siblings.

Beta was wearing a lovely white suit with light red and blue jewels sprinkled all of the jacket. He wore blue cufflinks and large rubies were studded into the edges of his collar. This was a big upgrade from the white tunic and black pants he wore during their tutoring sessions, or the navy blue military styled uniform they wear at the academy.

Frieda looked stunning as usual. She was wearing a new cream coloured ball gown, embedded with small diamonds across the fabric. Elbow length gloves covered her arms and gold sleeper rings were slid up her fingers, making them glimmer in the chandelier light. A floral styled tiara sat on top of her head, the same coloured diamonds were set in it as well.

The siblings came to the end of the staircase and gracefully smiled at the crowd. Frieda and Beta were quickly surrounded by the stuffy noblemen and women. [Name] stood aside and stayed out of sight of the siblings.

Beta leaned into Frieda's ear and whispered something to her. His words made the princess look around, almost frantically. The curls in her hair bounce from the movement of her head. Frieda quickly caught the eyes of the commoner, making a graceful smile spread onto her face. She tapped Beta's upper arm and pointed into [Name]'s direction, whispering something into his ear. All of this happened while the said student was slowly sipping on their champagne and gazing outside the stained coloured window.

Frieda and Beta walked past all the noble people, making them gasp and quiet down immediately. "[Name]! You're really here!" announced Beta as he unhooked his sister's hand from his arm.

Frieda smiled in happiness from the sight of Beta speaking animatingly with his tutor. "I am quite glad to see you here Mx.[Lastname]. I hope that you have so far been having a good time."

[Name] nodded at the Princess's words with a chuckle. "I have. No need to worry your royal majesty." Frieda nodded at their words and let her younger brother control the way the current conversation is going.

The cusp of the birthday ball was on it's way. Everyone was jovial and talkative. Frieda had left [Name] and Beta to themselves to that she could converse with the other invitees. Beta stuck to [Name]'s side like usual.

The duo had moved closer to the end of the hall, nearer to the food lined banquet table.

Suddenly, a loud trumpet sounded through the hall, bringing attention to a well dressed servant standing at the end of the staircase. Frieda stood in the middle of the staircase, her dress flowed down the stairs like a flowing river.

Frieda with a calming smile, announced, "I would like to present my gift to my little brother. He and I had a long discussion together about what would be the best present for his birthday. And I would like to present to you all what I had come up with. But first, I would like [Name] [Lastname] to come near the front."

[Name] stood in fear from the sound of their name leaving the princess' lips.

'Shitshitshitshitshitshit.' thought [Name] while they cautiously approached the front of the thick crowd of loudly dressed nobles. When the commoner finally reached the front of the crowd, they stood there, shifting there weight from foot to foot, shivering under the eyes of the Crown princess.

Soon enough, the princess signals at someone from behind her to do something. The large doors open up and a young woman comes tumbling out. An imperial guard grabs what little left of her brown, wet hair and roughly shoves her down the stairs. She stops rolling conveniently infront of [Name]'s feet, dirtying it with blood from a large gash on her right cheek.

Frieda climbs down the stairs and grabs the girl's hair and forces her head up to look into [Name]'s terrified eyes.

"Do you remember this girl Beta?" questioned the Crown princess, looking at her younger brother who was standing right next to his tutor. Beta looked down in awe at the beaten and bruised girl kneeling infront of him and [Name]. He then leaps from his tutor's side and falls into his sister's embrace. "Thank you thank you thank you! Oh, I love this present so so much!"

The young student stared at the bloodied girl with a look of terror in their eyes. This girl looked so oddly familiar. As if they had seen her before.

"Who is this girl, may I ask your royal majesty?" asked the tutor, not looking away from the nearly catatonic girl.

"This, my dear, is the honorable Alicia Crusainia, the one who had made fun of you at my tea party two months ago." answered the princess in a matter of factly tone of voice.

'Holy fucking shit she's fucking crazy!'

Beta made a nearly inaudible squeeling noise of happiness and quickly when back to [Name]'s side. "Now I get to take care of her properly for making fun of you! Aren't you so excited!?"

A thick sheet of sweat covered [Name]'s face as they stared down at their bloodied shoes. Frieda took notice of this action and nearly flung herself to [Name]'s side when she saw the blood on their shoes.

Frieda stomped on Alicia's head making her lower her head for the commoner.

"Now then, let's discuss our future from this time onward. How about we begin with giving you a proper title and moving you into the palace with my little brother and I"

Posted on: 30 August 2024 23:46

[randombookposts]

Canaan University Au

Ok I thought of a college au for the locked tomb a awhile ago but I never bothered to write it down until now. Anyways I think they would all go to this imaginary university in New Zealand and it’s like the first book but with a lot less murder. Here’s what I think each house would study

Judith- Criminal justice major. Huge stickler for rules and doing homework. If she’s not in the gym reading a textbook while doing push-ups, she’s in the library getting into a heated debate with a Corona. Had a huge crush on Marta and went to the same college as her to hangout, just getting over it, may or may not have feelings for Corona, maybe.

Marta- In law school, was a mentor to Judith when she was in high school and that’s how they know each other. Gently turned Judith down but they’re still friends and study together sometime. Is the DD at every party.

Corona: Majoring in marketing with a minor in fashion merchandising. Doesn’t do great on tests but aces every presentation. President of her sorority. Can and will gaslight frat boys. Everyone wants her but she only has eyes for the stuck up criminal justice major.

Ianthe- Management major with a minor in maybe finance. Commits tax fraud and gets away with it. Sometimes does Corona’s homework for her. Doxxes people online (mostly Babs), smokes in the dorm hallways. Flirts with Harrow during their study sessions, which Harrow ignores.

Naberius- Economics major, and major fuck boy. Makes thirst traps and is doxxed. Hangs out with the twins even though they bully him. Doesn’t do shit during group projects. Will get a job at his dads company post graduation.

Jeannemary and Isaac don’t go to college but are tutored by Abigail at her house. They just silly teens who experiment with makeup and clothes to find their look. Talk loudly about anime in the school hallways. A little cringe but they’re doing their best.

Abigail- Anthropology professor and is really cool. Tough grader but genuinely loves her students and shares trivia with them. Brings donuts to test days. Will accidentally derail class to talk about books or her husband. If one of her students brings up one of the incredibly niche topics she likes, she will talk about it for hours.

Magnus- Not a teacher but visits Abigail's classes often. Nice guy, helps look after Jeannemary and Isaac. I'm not sure what he would do as a job, maybe chef or stay at home husband lol. Regardless, he's the one making all the meals.

Palamedes- Pre-med, wants to become a doctor so he can save Dulcinea save people. Smartest guy in the room always, a go to for anyone struggling with their biology homework. Has a friendly rivalry with Harrow (it's more rivalry than friendly for Harrow but she grows fond of him over time). Is the one derailing class with philosophical debates.

Camilla- Physics major, too cool for you. Really into sports, just not sure which, like gymnastics or soccer or rugby or fencing. Works hard but actually remembers to eat and sleep too. Probably in student government as well. Her and Palamedes are attached at the hip, they later get an apartment together and that's where all the main hangouts with the other characters happen.

Dulcinea- Suffers from chronic illness and focuses her life on learning and traveling rather than getting a traditional job. She's got multiple degrees in stuff like literature, philosophy, and art history. She is active on social media and has a blog, and sells crocheted animals on Etsy. Became mutuals with Pal and Camilla on social media and they met up later when they went off to college.

Protesilaus- Dulcie's caretaker, helps her with her medical stuff. Becomes like a cool uncle figure to her and her friends. Hangs out a lot with Ortus and they share poetry.

Silas- Double major in theology and philosophy. Freaky teen prodigy who graduated high school early and attends university. Little shit who people are either freaked out by or straight up just don't like him. Will snitch on anyone for anything he doesn't like. Really only friends with Colum.

Colum- Silas' nephew, but way older than him, weird dynamic. Not in school but drives Silas to his classes and Silas lives with him during the school year instead of in the dorms. Nice guy, looks out for Silas' well being the best he can but tries to keep him from being too nasty to others.

Harrow- Double major in theology and archeology. Studies at all hours and forgets to eat and sleep. Local cryptid. Autistic with special interests in religion and burial rituals. Went to Catholic school and had a suffocating home life. Trying to grapple with that as she starts to navigate adult life. Also trying to mend her relationship with Gideon after being so harsh in her younger years.

Gideon- Kinesiology major, butch vibes to the max. Does swordfighting and weight training in her down time. Has kissed both Ianthe and Corona at some point, though it never went anywhere after that. Wears her sunglasses at all times even in class. Finds the worst fashions from thrift stores and wears them to piss Harrow off. Grew up with Harrow in a foster home Harrow's parents ran and also attended Catholic school with her but they rarely interacted beyond antagonizing each other. Reconnected after being randomly assigned roommates. Now they're buddies and hang out alongside the 3rd and 6th, (also the 2nd and Dulcie sometimes too). They all do stupid shit together like sing karoke off key and hit up Taco Bell at 2am after binge watching movies.

[itzmemyselfandi]

I just had a crazy dream where Eugene was immortal and it takes place in present day and Rapunzel and everyone else died cuz you know they’re old But Eugene is secretly like thousands of years old but ppl think he’s 25 cuz of his ID and stuff but he’s really just trying to live in the present and he has like multiple jobs he’s a librarian but also a janitor at McDonald’s? Like what???

Anyways, he finds Rapunzel, or well, reincarnated Rapunzel at the library and she’s her friendly companionate self so she goes up to Eugene and sees the book he’s reading and she’s all like “Hey that’s a cool book” and of course Eugene immediately recognizes her cuz true love and whatnot and she’s like “Hey thats funny u lowkey kinda look like that Flynn Rider dude that we’re learning about in our history textbooks” yes she lowkey said lowkey this was a dream ok and it does take place in present day.

And he’s like “u mean Eugene Fitzherbert”

“no who’s that I’m talking about that thief in Corona that stole the lost princess’s crown”

“Ya but he found the princess from the tower and like married her and stuff”

“Are u talking about prince Johnson? No offense but like how do u even mix them up?”

And then Eugene’s all confused like tf??? But then he checks out the history books in the library and realizes that in the books it shows him as a thief and nothing else and as prince Johnson whoever that is as the guy who saved and died for and married Rapunzel. And he’s devastated cuz why wouldn’t he be. But he and Rapunzel become friends after some time Rapunzel regains her memory and they both find out that Eugene isn’t the only one living that was born thousand years ago apparently there’s some guy who’s also immortal like Eugene and he lied about history

And that guy is Mr. Johnson, MY SECOND GRADE SCIENCE TEACHER 💀

[saveugoodmadam]

You should tell me about your tangled oc because I'm making a tangled oc and they can be friends uwu

GDUSUDISJSUAI I WILL INDEED HAPPILY TELL YOU!!! (in return for information on your oc)

Florian Leseratte is first introduced as the castle librarian's apprentice, although because the librarian is quite old he pretty much functions as the overall librarian despite being around Varian's age.

During the first half-ish of series one his arc is sort of him coming out of his shell, he acts as a reassurance to Cass, a point of information to Rapunzel and a helper to Varian. During the events of Queen for a Day, he mostly stays with Varian but gets scared and flees when Varian gets all emo.

Also during series one there's a prophecy teased about a secret prince (Rapunzel will still become queen though bc I can do what I want, idc about primogeniture)

I have talked about it like once before but it goes:

Closer than you think he may/The son of Frederick lies/Discovered by the golden tears/That leak from both his eyes

It's set up to tease Varian as the secret prince but at the end of The Alchemist Returns we see Florian crying alone in the library, with a single shot of a golden tear. This is then majorly revealed during Secret of the Sun Drop when he starts crying due to fear.

Series two for him is coming to terms with what happened, and there's a lot of exposition. We find out that after what happened to Rapunzel, Frederick feared the worst and basically handed off Florian to the servants and told Arianna that their baby had been taken seriously ill and passed when she was asleep.

There's also a point midway through the series when the librarian passes away and Florian has to choose whether he becomes a proper prince like his father wants or the head librarian. (He chooses the library ofc.)

He visits Varian in prison at some point in the first few episodes, and they have a super cute duet through the bars of Varian's cell, before he helps Varian escape prison.

In series three his arc is overcoming his fear of making mistakes, especially in the fact that he blames himself the most for Cass' corruption. He is super happy to have Varian back though and is a massive help in the kingdom forgiving him. This series is very much them becoming quite couple-y together and gets a lot of use out of how they fuel each other's talents.

Florian absolutely tags along for Vat7k, there's probably a shot of him with heart eyes after hearing the word 'library' and he's immediately sold on the quest. His role in the group is mediator- he gets on with pretty much everyone, although Hugo kinda hates him for how close he is to Varian.

His arc is mainly focused on how he's joining the quest because he's desperate to get away from Corona, and he realises at the end of it that actually he was running away from his title of Prince. Through Nuru and other royals they meet he finally realises that there is no one way to be a royal and at the climax he uses his title and ties to the kingdom's old magic to amplify the work done by Hugo and Varian. (Valorigo forever btw!!!)

If I had to pick a voice claim, I think Ryan Kopel would fit super well, especially as Florian has a lot of really good songs, his big 'I Am' song being "My Duty", sung during series two. He also has his and Varian's duet- "Something Breaks" and a few songs in Vat7k like "Can We Get Along For Once?" and "Mightier Than".

He's a little taller than Hugo and has shoulder-length wavy brown hair which Varian sometimes plaits when he needs to think. He's got lots of freckles and glasses and grey eyes. (yeah he's maaaaybe based off me. a little bit. a lot.) He wears mostly yellows and usually has a cardigan with him in a casual setting, otherwise a knitted waistcoat. Hugo's nickname for him is "Bookworm" or "Grandma" and Varian's is "Flor" or "Princey".

Fun fact: once I was really sleep deprived and half asleep in my German class and I looked down at the textbook and the name Florian was there (this is after I'd chosen the name) and I was immediately wide awake and also freaked out.

Also other fun fact: His surname is a way of saying bookworm in Germany. Technically his surname is "of Corona" after series one but eh he doesn't gaf and neither would the fans.

[darkmaga-returns]

I am sympathetic to the view that human-contagious-disease-causing viruses have not been demonstrated to exist. So far, these demonstrations have not convinced me, despite my earnest study.

I tend to agree with the Drs Bailey who have laid out their views on this and many aspects of the Corona declared pandemic in their brilliant new (and amply referenced) small book “The Final Pandemic”. And I tend to agree with the most influential critical textbooks on the question, which I have listed here

I am a career scientist with deep relevant expertise: CV and description of expertise. I ran a large university research group and had an electron microscope and many spectrometers and other instruments in my well-funded laboratory. I specialized, among many areas, in environmental nanoparticles, including their interactions with bacteria.

Anyway, after reading many state-of-the-art science articles about disease-causing virus “isolation” and characterization, I remain firmly unconvinced.

The main counter argument to my skepticism appears to be that PCR genome characterization is robust and specific. I plan to deep dive into PCR technology, eventually, but right now I am far from convinced of that counter argument also.

I remain highly suspicious of a wet chemical method (PCR) that relies on controlled thermal degradation to amplify a molecular fragment a kazillion times, which could not otherwise be detected. And I remain skeptical that thus obtained genome sequences are particularly relevant to biology. That’s me.

I mean, I think the PCR jockeys and the molecular-theory immunologists take up way too much space. And of course they are rewarded for their brilliant efforts.

But these are not my main topic today. Today, I want to say that I think some of the criticism of “germ theory” goes too far.

[dark-raven-feathers]

the plaguecore academic:

-dark toned clothes -knowing random words in Classical English -black face masks always. Hand sanitizer in pockets and bags -having high grades in history only because there was a unit on medieval Europe -forgetting that the botanical book on medieval herbs was a book you borrowed from the library two months ago -staying up late not for studying but to research more about plagues, which intersects into the character you’ve been feeding lore into for the past five months -plague Doctor doodles on history textbooks and biology notes -showing up to school with a big cardboard sign during corona in order to scare classmates into wearing a mask (or at least, wanting to, because godsdammit wear your masks people!) -using flowers and herbs as a love language. Somewhat incorrectly

[seriebofficial]

tagged by @delichas (omg hi❣️!)

rules: answer 10 questions and tag 10 people you want to get to know better

relationship status: dating my partner (a verified silly boy)

favorite color: orange (every orange but especially burnt sienna my beloved..)

three favorite foods: raw salmon, in-season strawberries, and any lemon dessert forever

song stuck in my head: rhythm of the night by corona

last thing I listened to: my friend’s dog Moose doing a BIG sigh

last thing i googled: match schedule for today (fitting!)

time: 2:30pm

dream trip: i really could go anywhere for real but right now i’ve been dreaming about going to Tucson bc i need some desert sunlight and to visit where my grandparents lived <3

anything i really want: um the ability to break out of the rut i’m in honestly. also for winter to break and springtime to come in. also manifesting money for all of us amen

currently reading: my linguistics textbook

last song: bizcochito by rosalía

last movie: mouse hunt (listen. sometimes you need to watch your favorite movie from when you were a child)

last series: (haven’t had the time to watch tv rip)

sweet, savory, or spicy: SPICY!

currently working on: a short story and maybe a very self indulgent fancam

craving: sunlight

tea or coffee: it really depends on the day!

tagging: @camphorror @nadalstappen @fhoetball @spizziale @lore-pellegrini @sainztander @buscandoelparaiso @filo-derba @noonez @mimmo2acmeehlan (if you’ve already been tagged or don’t want to do it, no worries mwah 💕💕💕)

[irrfahrer]

how long ago did you create your oc? how did the idea come to you? — @mando-of-esverr

ORIGINAL CHARACTER QUESTIONS& HEADCANONS: * collection #1

March 2014. I was starting to write my Bachelor Thesis "The fourth medieval european Living world- beside country, town and court- is the life on board of Hanse-Koggen", only to give up after two months, change Professors and subject from medievalistic history back to pedagogy, and start another one "The development of morals after Kohlberg and the role of fairytales in it on the example of Red Riding Hood" .At that time I needed to distract myself from wanting to chew on my textbooks. I have never read anything to Kohlbergs ideas ever again after this. Which isn´t that bad because Kohlberg with his testgroup of only boys of a certaine age did not aged well, ut is also the basis of most concepts of moral development. I think my old man has still a copy of that thesis in his shelf. Anyway, I needed to be distractd and browsed through Wookiepedia and stumbled over the AgriCorps article which had always been at the Core of Zivs concept. Then I looked through the non-human alien category , landed on Tynnan and liked thefact that they were not just humans with paint thrown at them. At that time Ziv had another name and had a complete different design before I had made Tynnan my own and aligned them more to have a destinct weasle like appearence instead of beeing just the brown furry little things that artists seem to not be able to pin down. Ziv was also more the average Tynnan with a case of atavism in that she was taller, had longr teeth and had a even thicker fur. I even started a rp-blog for her, that is now deleted. Then Corona hit, I designed Star Wars themes Reading-Papers for my LRS-students in the lockdown, was back into starwars and my autistic brain got very obsessed with speculative biology and started 2020 this blog. I have redrawn and redesigned her several times in the last nine years and now she has a destinct connection to the Odyssey, is a albinistic runt with a hyperflexible spine and is grinding down her frontteeth until nolonger visible so she could easier copy a humanoids mimic. She also got rocking hips. Which some anons on this blog do not fail to thank me for. You are all Furrys.

[ @mando-of-esverr ] + [ @gwiazdowe ]

[underground-rice]

'When we made the angels cry'

A Gideon/Harrow AU Fic. (TLT) - cross-posted on ao3

Summary:

As much as Harrow wanted to say otherwise, a large part of her was drawn towards the red-haired girl who sat opposite her in Church. Maybe God was glaring down at her, or maybe it was Him that gave her the crooked heart that wanted Gideon so badly, but either way, she wasn't about to ignore that desire.

Content Warnings:

Christianity/catholicism, homophobia (internalised and external), implied sexual content, kissing, implied child abuse (physical/emotional), brief reference to conversion therapy.

✧･ﾟ:───:･ﾟ✧

It struck her as odd that it was always in Church that it happened. Like something was taunting her, reminding her of the desire that dwelled underneath her skin right in the hallowed place that she seemed to taint with her want.

That which she desired sat in the pew directly opposite her, and Harrow supposed logically this had something to do with why the situation was becoming such a common occurrence.

She wasn’t really proving her point of it being unavoidable, as her eyes wandered over to the girl’s shockingly short, not even shoulder-length, rust-red hair. The ginger was a dark contrast to the soft blue florals of Gideon’s church dress, which clung to her bust in soft cotton folds, the flowing sleeves gathering at the elbows of her sun-warmed brown arms. As if that wasn’t distraction enough, the pounding of Harrow’s heartbeat in her ears seemed enough to drown out the minister’s - her father’s - reading. 

✧･ﾟ:───:･ﾟ✧

`I hear they’re discussing it in schools even earlier,` Tridentarius’ mother spat out, the other adults around her umming and arring in faux dramatic horror. Harrow’s eyes caught on Ianthe herself, her blond classmate sat primly and unhappily by her twin and her mother’s side. The sallow girl was nodding in self-righteous agreement.

The irony of this was not lost on Harrow, who was firmly separated from the conversation, sipping her after-service tea in the corner. After all, hadn’t it been Ianthe who had initiated that awkward adolescent kiss under the bleachers, their teeth clunking together and both their school shoes slowly becoming mud-covered and soaked? 

What the other had probably dismissed as a moment of experimentation before retreating back into the depths of her repression, and thankfully not spreading the news around their congregation, Harrow had found to be an awakening for a whole host of unexplored, lustful desires in the depths of her subconscious.

If that didn’t prove her theory that she was cursed, she wasn’t sure what would.

‘Foolish looking, aren’t they?’ a rough, casual voice commented, pulling Harrow unexpectedly out of her musings.

‘Huh?’ Wincing inwardly at the complete lack of cognition that she’d just broadcasted, she turned hastily to find Gideon hovering next to her, an entire pack of custard creams in one hand.

‘The perfect twins.` The sneer in Gideon’s voice was palpable, as she gestured to where Harrow’s gaze had just been lingering: Coronabeth and Ianthe. The golden girls of their church - or really, the golden girl and the wet straw of a girl who seemed stuck like a limpet to Corona’s side. They did make rather a sight, it had to be admitted: polar opposites and yet oddly identical, perched there debating the politics of homosexuality.

✧･ﾟ:───:･ﾟ✧

Harrow knew Gideon wasn’t in any of her classes, but she certainly seemed to turn up all over school. It was like she couldn’t turn a corner without spotting the red-head in the new corridor, couldn’t pass by the library without spotting her checking out a new textbook, could barely even get to the toilets without bumping into her. It was making her blood boil.

Or at least irritation was the excuse Harrow gave for the heat that pricked her cheeks every time she passed the taller girl.

The blue, feminine skirts of that day in Church were a far cry from Gideon’s usual attire: cheer jackets, skinny jeans, grass-stained t-shirts and scuffed sneakers. The jacket was usually draped around her shoulders, only being discarded for cheer practice itself: something that had Harrow fidgeting awkwardly every time she witnessed it. Gideon never looked pleased to be there, jumping in amusing positions and throwing her teammates in the air, but it was certainly a sight Harrow appreciated - not least for the slight toning visible in Gideon’s bare arms.

It became a habit of hers, walking along the sports field instead of taking her usual, shorter route through the staff parking lot. A glimpse of the cheer practise when it was on, and when it wasn’t - well, one could always use a bit of time to muse over the issue of why she wanted to see this so much anyway.

Then home again it was, to the cold presence of her mother and complete lack of her father: he was likely holed up in his office again, praying or working through papers. 

Harrow found herself spending less and less time at home. The heavy weight of the picture of the Lord on her bedroom wall weighed too heavily on her there, as well as the frigid comments from her mother: putting on weight again, Harrow, grades are dropping, Harrow, Ortus is coming round, Harrow, so go put on your best dress. Not to speak of the few times she messed up bad enough for her dad to reveal himself again.

Then there was the problem of Ortus, of course.

✧･ﾟ:───:･ﾟ✧

‘Why do you do cheer?’ Harrow asked, dropping it into convo lightheartedly, like it wasn’t hinged on the most positive thing in her life at that moment. She was perched on the wall outside their youth group, having been cancelled for the week after the hall was somehow double-booked. 

Gideon ran a hand through her hair, which had lost another few inches in length recently (Harrow was beginning to suspect she lopped it off herself). ‘I wanted to do rugby, y’know,’ she shrugged casually, ‘but John wouldn’t have been pleased with that.’ 

The name was said so firmly, so without question, that the stilling off Gideon’s fingers was the only reminder to Harrow of what was so wrong about that.

It was rarely acknowledged that Gideon hadn’t grown up in the Church the same way Harrow - the minister’s daughter, after all - had. But everyone remembered the story: five years ago, the little fiery-haired 13-year-old, grimy and grouchy and having been finally reunited with her Dad. Not that Gideon ever called him that.

There were rumours, of course, none of them ever confirmed. That her mother was a whore, or that she’d been kicked out of her house, that she’d died tragically in childbirth or that she’d been murdered on the streets. That Gideon had been passed from relative to relative until John was located, that she’d grown up in care or that she’d been living in some miserable orphanage before John rescued her.

Harrow didn’t really believe any of them.

‘That sucks,’ she replied genuinely, glancing over at Gideon, who was tugging at the raw edges of her chopped-off hair. ‘You’d make a great athlete.’

‘Thanks.’ Gideon’s smile was half-hearted, wavering, but it was something.

✧･ﾟ:───:･ﾟ✧

Harrow kept catching minutes alone with Gideon. Not purposefully, not really, it just seemed - to happen. The warmth that blossomed in her chest every time Gideon sent her a crooked smile was definitely not purposeful, nor was the fluttering nausea that rippled through her when their hands brushed.

None of these seemed avoidable, though, and if Harrow was being entirely honest with herself: once they’d begun, she wasn’t sure she wanted to avoid them.

She lingered after communion, the taste of God’s flesh still on her lips. Gideon appeared pre-occupied, rummaging for something underneath her pew, until the last old lady had shuffled out the door. Then they talked rapidly, sentences spilling illogically between them as they rambled semi-coherently in their scavenged minutes together.

Harrow would sit in the library, her eyes straying from the homework in front of her to the cheer practise outside perhaps a few too many times. Gideon hung around after it was over, waiting for Harrow to make her way down to the field and they’d walk together for the block until their routes home split. 

Somehow they ended up cleaning up together after youth group, sweeping and tidying while exchanging tidbits about their weeks. Harrow tied up her hair and tried to tie up her unwanted thoughts as she did so. The problem with these thoughts, though, was that as hard as she tried, there was some small part of her that liked them.

And it’s much more difficult to remove things you like.

Mutually, it seemed they were avoiding actually spending time together in school. Maybe it felt too open, too far flung from the safety net of Church, too out of routine for the both of them.

Maybe they were scared, and rightfully so.

✧･ﾟ:───:･ﾟ✧

It was Gideon who had the idea, but it was for Harrow’s 18th birthday - she was a few months younger than Gideon. It wasn’t hard to distract her dad long enough for Gideon to slip into the vestry, and hasten out again with a rather obvious bulge under her varsity jacket. As she slipped away, Harrow made up some excuse and ducked out of the church. They met up round the back, shoes damp in the grass, and Gideon eagerly clutching a bottle of communion wine. 

They wandered the streets for a while, ended up in a park as the sky dimmed. Settled on the semi-dry arm rests of an otherwise soggy bench, propped their feet up on the seat, and uncorked the bottle shakily.

Gideon immediately slopped some of the dark red liquid down her arm, and Harrow started giggling before she’d even taken a sip.

The taste wasn’t unusual to either of them - they’d sure taken enough of it at communion itself - but the idea of getting tipsy certainly was. It only took a few gulps for Gideon to start humming tunelessly, her fingers dancing dizzily in the air as Harrow took a drink for herself.

She was barely even intoxicated, she knew that. Maybe it was more the idea of it than the alcohol itself that was freeing, as Harrow leant forwards and pressed a messy, red-stained kiss to Gideon’s lips. The humming stopped abruptly.

About to pull away, Harrow felt panic rising in her throat, when Gideon’s hand found a place in her dark hair and the kiss deepened unexpectedly.

It was sloppy, and ended hastily when someone kicked the wine bottle over, and suddenly Gideon was standing up, holding the now near-empty bottle. Harrow exhaled, her eyes wide and dilated, and Gideon reached down with her free hand to grab Harrow’s fingers.

The wine was abandoned on the bench and Gideon murmured ‘happy birthday’ in her ear before she sent Harrow hurrying home.

✧･ﾟ:───:･ﾟ✧

The kissing became more frequent after that, though their encounters gained a new level of subterfuge and subtly.

It would be too obvious to make out after cheer practice, after all, and so instead Harrow found herself frequently pressed against the walls behind school, behind their Church, or Gideon’s hands on her thighs as they stopped by a tree in the park.

✧･ﾟ:───:･ﾟ✧

The day Gideon explained the truth to her, Harrow had just failed her biology test. At least, if by failed you were to mean didn’t get top in the class, then she had. She felt horrible, remembering the day with this tidbit, which paled in comparison to the secrets her friend - girlfriend - Gideon spilled.

But it wasn’t just a tidbit, really. It settled in her chest the moment she found out, burning a tiny hole like a cigarette, another red hot scar to join the myriad that marred her heart.

Even as they were sitting in a supermarket parking lot, having gone wandering after school ended again, the reminder of her grade seemed to loom over Harrow, shackling her mind. She couldn’t focus on Gideon’s hand in hers, couldn’t focus on the redhead’s soft lips, couldn’t even focus when Gideon’s voice took on a heavy note.

‘She just didn’t want me,’ Gideon said suddenly, and Harrow seemed to be forced back into her body, the words scalding hands pushing her into consciousness. ‘Y’know. She didn’t die or nothing. Just didn’t care once I got older.’

‘Your mum?’ Harrow asked hesitantly, tightening her grip around Gideon’s hand.

Chuckling mirthlessly, Gideon nodded. ‘Yeah. I was shuffled around, for a while - fostered for a couple months, stayed with my nan … with some people she claimed were my uncles, but I don’t know.’ The flat tone she explained this in was shadowed by something else, something vulnerable, and Harrow felt a lump rise in her throat. `They varied, I guess, in quality. And then John found me again.’

Harrow stiffened slightly at the mention of Gideon’s dad. Something was wrong there, she knew that it was.

‘I tried to be happy, I really did, but I couldn’t stop thinking that it was only a matter of time before he wouldn’t want me either.’ Gideon glanced at their clasped hands, and a tense awareness grew between her and Harrow. John wouldn’t want his good Christian daughter doing that, at the very least.

‘Oh,’ Harrow forced out slowly, ignoring her every instinct that said to close off, to run, to leave. ‘Oh. Well,’ she continued shakily, ‘if … if it helps, I want you.’

Leaning forward, Harrow found Gideon’s eyes, adding a firm quality to her voice. ‘I really want you.’ Later, As she walked home, the weight of her grades and the reaction that awaited her from her parents sinking onto her shoulders again, Harrow hoped Gideon had believed her.

✧･ﾟ:───:･ﾟ✧

After they nearly got caught kissing, Gideon decided they needed a better solution. This turned out to be inviting Harrow round to hers. 

‘It wasn’t hard,’ she explained, ‘you’re the preacher’s kid. John probably thinks you’ll be a good influence on me.’

After brushing off John’s offers of snacks or a board game, they slipped into Gideon’s room and made out gently, quietly on her bed. Her bedroom was messy, to Harrow’s surprise, with abandoned homework and soda cans scattered across the floor. A guitar leant against the windowsill, and a simple wooden cross was mounted over her bed. 

It was refreshing. A stark contrast from Harrow’s neat-as-a-pin room. 

And sure, they had to be quiet, but Gideon had a door and she was happy to shut it. Harrow explored more of the other girl’s body than she’d ever expected, hands slipping under her t-shirt as Gideon palmed her hips firmly, tongue flicking out to nudge Harrow’s bottom lip. Even as the cross on the wall seemed to scream their own sin back at them, Harrow had never felt more content.

✧･ﾟ:───:･ﾟ✧

Harrow moved where she sat in the library, averting her eyes from the practising girls on the field below. Cramps radiated through her wrist as she wrote feverishly, eyes flicking anxiously over the homework in front of her.

As much as it pained her to have to give up the sight of Gideon practising, it was essential she didn’t fail another paper. Her shoulder still ached from the aftermath of the previous incident, the shared dregs of a fag and secretive kisses from Gideon having done little to soothe it.

She flicked wearily through the sheets of biology work, foot tapping absently on the musty carpet.

The library was unusually busy: studious people similar to herself scribbling away nearby; a boy and a girl napping on each other underneath the windows; a blonde girl with a continuously growing stack of fiction stories; a short boy drawing in one corner. However, as Harrow hunched over and continued toiling her way through her homework her peers slowly filtered out of the room. So much so, that when she looked up, she found there was only one left - a teacher who Harrow vaguely recognised, tapping away at a computer several bookshelves away. 

What had startled her out of her homework fixation proved to be the exact girl she wanted to see most. Gideon was hovering just inside the library door, hair sticking up damp from a recent shower as she gazed around - looking for Harrow.

As Harrow started shuffling her papers into a neat stack, Gideon made her way over, and Harrow’s breath caught in her throat when she bent over to pick up her bag and felt the taller girl’s firm palm on her lower back.

`We’re practically alone,` she hummed against Harrow’s neck when she stood back up, Gideon’s chapped lips rough against her collarbone.

Melting into her embrace, Harrow tugged the pair fully behind the bookshelf she’d been working in front of, ensuring they were hidden from both the window and the nearby teacher. Gideon bent her against the books, but she barely felt their spines against her, too enraptured by the heat of the other’s lips against her own. The scuffed sleeves of Gideon’s jacket brushed against the crisply ironed cotton of Harrow’s black shirt, and the couple seemed to blend into each other, black and red hair mingling together.

Their routine adapted after that, with Harrow getting more work done and them both enjoying the hasty kissing session afterward. 

✧･ﾟ:───:･ﾟ✧

It was a natural progression into more, quite literally. 

One moment Harrow was sitting practically on top of Gideon, sprinkling kisses on her neck, her lips, her shoulders. Gideon leant into them, fingers running through Harrow’s unusually rumpled hair, before her hands began to wander and the next, her fingers brushed Harrow’s waistband and her mouth found her ear.

`Can I touch you here?` she murmured, breath hot on Harrow’s cheek.

Harrow nodded frantically, her own hands tightening their grip on Gideon’s hips. `Yes,` she clarified eagerly, `yes.` 

Hastily, but with such gentle touch that Harrow arched closer into it, seeking the contact, Gideon slipped a hand down past the waistband of her leggings. The coldness surprised Harrow, the growing confidence of Gideon’s fingers as they brushed along the inside of her thigh pleased her. Leaning down over Gideon’s shoulder, she exhaled in anticipation, chest pressed against the other girl’s.

It was probable that she was already close, the kissing having elicited a tingling in her knickers, though this didn’t counteract the awkward fumbling off Gideon’s hand as she found the trimmed hair Harrow had left unshaved. 

It was soft, and sweet, and admittedly more than a little embarrassing, with hands and legs everywhere. In short, it was both exactly what they’d expected and a complete surprise.

Only a week later, a teacher caught them kissing in the library. 

✧･ﾟ:───:･ﾟ✧

She thought it might be worse than her dad’s normal reactions to her misbehaviour. No screaming, no hitting, no confiscating her stuff. Just cold, unending scorn. Harrow was left to her room, shuffled to and from school by her fretting, unhappy mother, awaiting whatever fate they decided would befall her. 

`No.` Harrow’s voice wavered, her hands clenched in her duvet as she sat up to stare at her parents, eyes stinging. `No. You can’t.`

`There’s no way around it.` Her dad’s voice was brittle, the tension practically visible in the crackling air. `You’re going to get cured or you’re getting out of our house.`

Glancing desperately towards her mum, Harrow dug her nails into her palms. Her mum averted her eyes, looking down instead of at her, and that was when she realised she was alone with this dilemma, and so she made her choice.

✧･ﾟ:───:･ﾟ✧

Harrow was leaving and Gideon was crying. 

`Ortus said I could bunk at his for a while, and he has friends up in London,` explained Harrow, staring at her hands, which rested on the backpack she’d dumped on Gideon’s bed. `I’ll probably end up there.`

Gideon scrubbed at her eyes furiously, nodding slowly. `I don’t know where I’m going,` she whispered hoarsely. `John threatened to send me back to my Nan, but she’s dying now. But I’m not allowed to see you.` 

She winced at the way Gideon’s voice grew and broke, holding back her own sniffs. Reaching out a hand, Harrow gripped Gideon’s wrist in a vain attempt at reassurance. The redhead swiped a thumb encouragingly across Harrow’s fingers. 

`Will you come back?` Gideon asked finally, meeting Harrow’s eyes.

They were unusual, Harrow thought, Gideon’s eyes. Fiery, amber like honey. Unmistakable. `I’ll try,` she replied slowly, `I’ll try to find you, no matter what.` 

Footsteps sounded outside Gideon’s door, and Harrow scrambled to her feet. There wasn’t time for anything, not even a final kiss, as she swung her backpack over her shoulder and went to scramble out the window - the same way she entered.

Gideon was looking up towards John when Harrow glanced back, her eyes veiled by her scruff of red hair.

[jazzreloaded]

From BB to the Beat Bank

From BB to the Beat Bank

I want to give (just) two examples of "Sharp" practisces that I personally experienced in the years 2000-2018 B.C. [ Before Corona ] The first, I was personally involved in which was when the Regional head of a very large Publishing Company personally invited me to his swanky Marelybone offices to pen a deal to licence my music.  I could tell by the smoothness of this shylock's hand that he had never done a day's menial work in the last decade. 

As I expected, he was late for his own meeting, making me wait and sit in silence outside his office until such a time as was convenient to him. Textbook business narcicissm.  I made polite conversation with his assistant, who was embarrased about the whole situation, as he obviously had nothing pressing.  Anyways, after about five minutes he invited me in and we started to discuss the music I had sent him three weeks ago  at length, at which point I understood that he had not actually listened to it, and this was purely a business venture for him and his company, and he was looking to trade on my name, and not the content of my music,  which was fine because I was looking for a straight transaction.

What amazed me about this meeting was that about a half hour in, he said, OK, do you have any music I can listen to ? Now as a SEN teacher, I always make allowances for early onset alzheimers, dementia, or autistic spectrum behaviour in professional discussions, so I did my best not to widen my eyes and I expressed to him that I had already sent him some tracks to listen to.

This is important for me because I think many artists will relate to the self-editing that happens in conversation with "business types" where in order not to diminish or ridicule the other party, you choose to play along with thier version of reality. So, for his benefit, I played along with the reality wherein he hadn't received an email from my with the tracks already and already responded to me. To be honest, as a jazz / improvising musician , I was also a little curious as to how long he could sustain that reality.

Anyways he checks his email clicks on a link to my music and his jaw drops. "This is ...Good!" he says in surprise To be honest at this point I am a little offended that he's surprised, but, as I try and explain to him the reasons why its "good"  I can already sense he's not listening. He is, at last, observing the effect that the music has on him. HE IS FEELING. I go silent and let him have his moment.  As wise a wordsmith as I am , i don't like to punctuate such moments with words, and in any case, there are only a select few I trust - the likes of  - to verbalise what I have instrumentalised. 

Almost embarrased, he springs out of his moment and jumps onto a computer. The screen goes black and he starts typing into a Matrix-Green command line. Very unsophisticated data returns to the screen.  My music is still playing.  So I try to explain a little more about it whilst pretending not to be trying to look into that screen.  He doesn't seem to care at this point.  I know the music that he's listening to is not THAT good, so I sense that he must sense a commercial opportunity.  Either that or he is autistic.  Maybe both.

He confirms with me within one minute that I am the owner of the works and nobody else has an interest in the works ( which I told him at the top of the meeting and in the email I sent three weeks  prior ) I explain to him ( as per the email ) that I would like to sign a one year deal with a view to an extension based on actual results produced.  He agrees, spends another five minutes producing the necessary paperwork.  We discuss it at length, as he breaks down "how the industry works". I note his observations to be helpful and largely jargon free, and largely consistent with the experiences of my peers.  He asks if I am ready to sign.  I tell him I am ready to READ. He gives me his assistants card (which she has already given me ), invites me to an industry function happening in the near future hosted by x,y,and z, who I already know, which I tell him, which deflates him a little.  He gives me his card and tells me to ring him if there are any questions or problems.

I take the contract home, and read it.  Then I read it again.  It is broadly coincident with the salient points we discussed in our meeting, and it's only for a year, so I am like "Nothing ventured, nothing gained".  I sign and return the documents and he confirms receipt by email and that's the last time I ever had communication with that guy.

A year after signing I contacted his assistant to collect revenue and royalty statements,  after his personal email address bouncing about four times, I rang and spoke to someone who was not the assistant I met, and she informed me that nobody of that name was in employment at the company.  She suggested some alternate emails I could contact, and , of course, they all bounced.

I will not mention names of people because to me these people are like yeast: They survive anaerobically anyway and the oxygen of exposure will make little impact.  I believe existing in that mentality is punishment enough

I write all of this to say that, unless you are a regular user of Richard Olatunde's Shea butter products, mans hand is not supposed to be softer than womans.  I met one other man in manchester who had hands like this, and he was supposed to be in the "music business".  Suffice to say I later found out he was a drug dealer and a pimp and almost made the lead vocalist miss the show.  

Again names shall remain redacted for the purposes  mutual corroboration, but I will eventually be discussing stories like the and the effects they have on real people earning a living in a fake industry on my substack  . 

In any case, more music is on the way... I can guarantee IT WILL MAKE YOU FEEL.  What you do with it from there is, of course,  up to you.

*Excerpt form the book "45 T.W.I.S.T." [ The Way I Saw Things]  By Vidal Montgomery.  Available serially and exclusively at https://jazzreloaded.substack.com/

[finishinglinepress]

FLP CHAPBOOK OF THE DAY: Miramont Park and Other Poems by John Paul McKinney

On SALE now! Pre-order Price Guarantee: https://www.finishinglinepress.com/product/miramont-park-and-other-poems-by-john-paul-mckinney/

Miramont Park and Other #Poems offers its readers a poetic vision into a small, local park in Fort Collins, #Colorado during the changing #seasons throughout the corona virus. A corona (no pun intended) of fourteen sonnets unmasks the fears and hopes of the park’s daily visitors as they go about their everyday lives: young mothers, children in the playground, budding athletes, an Olympian jumper and elderly couples. The second half of this chapbook, A Slew of Sunday Sonnets, explores such topics as homelessness, celibacy, and a few essential feast days in the liturgical year. The book ends with a longer poem, a somewhat light-hearted look at the #nature of writing, itself.

John Paul McKinney, an emeritus professor from Michigan State University, is the author of over 75 journal articles, chapters, and textbooks in psychology. His non-academic writing includes short stories and one novel, as well as poetry that has appeared in The Christian Century, St. Anthony Messenger, and two anthologies.

PRAISE FOR Miramont Park and Other Poems by John Paul McKinney

How young and fresh is this voice, this Octogenarian’s full-throated song. There is an energy here that issues in hope. Even in a series of Covid poems or in lines about the murder of his black “brother,” there is always hope, as in these final stanzas of the poem, “Advent”:

Now night reveals the fingernail slice of moon.

That thief in the sky, stealing her light from the sun

Swelling and swelling, night after night

Like the belly of the Woman who can no longer contain

Her audacious, urgent gift of Light

That bursts with hope to smash the dark.

Hope as womb pulsing with life runs through these hope-pregnant poems, culminating in a postscript poem about words themselves as bright living things the poet has been digging to find, like a fisherman digging for worms in the pregnant earth. In a beautiful echo and expansion of Seamus Heaney’s poem, “Digging,” McKinney writes:

Now here I start to dig again

….

Digging deeper, digging still

Searching for the words ….

Bright words that ring on open air

To catch my reader unaware

To catch my reader unaware.

–Fr. Murray Bodo, OFM, author of Francis: The Journey and The Dream and Canticle: The Beauty of Art’s Intrusion

Miramont Park and Other Poems, John Paul McKinney‘s debut collection, offers readers a series of finely-wrought poems, each of which ponders the luminous mystery of the human condition. Set during the year of Coronavirus, the poignant sonnet sequence that gives the book its title traces in loving detail the effects of the pandemic on the small community of humans who frequent a local park. The poet’s rapt attention to the movements of the heart and mind, as well as the spirit, in response to challenging circumstances continues in the “Slew of Sunday Sonnets” that follow, a series of vivid epiphanies that reveal the many manifestations of extraordinary faith in ordinary people. Finally, the volume’s concluding tour-de-force celebration of the vocation of poetry reminds us that all poetry, including the splendid poems in this delightful ensemble, is ultimately an act of faith, an act of hope, and, most of all, an act of love.

–Angela Alaimo O’Donnell, author of Andalusian Hours, Love in the Time of Coronavirus, and Holy Land

Please share/please repost #flpauthor #preorder #AwesomeCoverArt #poetry #chapbook #read #poems #life #nature

[starsocsideblog]

stella: good work lina!

lina: isn't this fun? we're such a good team. DON'T EVER LEAVE ME.

stella: alright, cool it.

[crazyforstudy-cfs]

In this COVID-19 Pandemic, when schools and colleges were shut down, and we feared to go out of our homes, then, there were people who were fighting this deadly disease. There were patients to be taken care of, there were medicines and vaccines to be delivered, there were letters, parcels, and groceries to be supplied, and there was law-and-order to be maintained.

Today, Crazy for Study salutes the doctor who didn’t fear his life while treating his patients, the nurse who took care of everyone, the postman who delivered letters to each and every door, the delivery boy who supplied ration at times we feared to come out of our homes, and to all the frontline warriors who helped us survive the COVID-19 Pandemic.

Thank You! We are still living today, because of you all!

[just-a-bunch-of-random-crap]

Nobody:

No one at all:

Except for Alexander Hamilton:

2020: Don’t be shocked when your history book mentions me