#this is coming from your local secondary lit teacher

[arliedraws]

Oof, sorry ya’ll, but I’m speaking out of concern. Please be reading stuff other than fanfiction. There’s a post that’s popular right now, and I know it’s played for giggles but the “i used to read so many books and i still read sort of, i just now I have a million ao3 tabs open on my computer” is… I mean… I hope it’s just a joke. Please also read some books.

And I mean, I read a lot of fic too, but I also read…books…

[fanfictionfansmiction]

Hot Chocolate

Here is a cute Remus reader insert. Sorry if there are any mistakes and that it ends a little abruptly. But basically it’s an au where you and Remus went to school together and you bump into each other twice. word count: 2638

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I’ve never been in a relationship. I point blank don’t like vulnerability and not being in control. I never go on dates with people I like. I don’t actually think I’ve ever fancied someone enough to want to know them. Or to get close enough to them to get hurt.

That was until I saw him. All golden and bright. When we first met properly, I remember his ears went pink when I bumped into him. I could not understand why because he steadied me and prevented me from falling on my face. Something I thanked him for with a cup of coffee and a box of chocolates. I knew I recognised him. Which was perhaps why I was so bold in insisting on repaying him. It wasn’t in his face which had become stronger and more defined since last I saw him. It was his kind nature and in the way he spoke. Soft and smooth like a cup of hot chocolate.

“I’m sure I know you.” I said, attempting to be heard in the bustle of the crowded café.

“I feel the same, I’m Remus maybe we went to school together or something.” He said gently placing his mug down but still managing to spill some on the saucer.

“Yes! That’s it we were at secondary school together; I think you were in my English class. You sat with that loud group of boys who really pissed off our teacher.” I said loud and thankful that I wasn’t going insane.

“Oh, good old Minnie, you know Sirius is still in touch with her.” He said giggling.

“In some strange way that makes so much sense.” I said reaching for my cup laughing.

We sat in that small golden café until they closed. Something neither of us had intended to do. Remus asked if he could walk me home because it was getting dark too early for his liking these days. There was something in the way he asked as though he’d been waiting to ask since he stabled me. Or maybe the way he said my name in such a way I felt a blush creeping up my neck. Eyes wide and a smile breaking it’s way onto my face I accepted.

“It’s not too far from here don’t worry I won’t keep you for long.” I said with a look that suggested I wanted to keep him. Ridiculous I know considering we’d spent a few hours together and here I was wishing he’d ask if he could come in. The walk to my small flat above a corner shop wasn’t long enough for my liking. Although the walk was nice, we’d bumped into each other and exchanged small smiles that lit something in me. Like I’d just drank whiskey.

“I suppose this is goodbye for now,” he said followed with my name again, “I hope to see you again soon.” A smile broke out on his face that made its way to mine. Grinning at each other like idiots I kissed his cheek and said I wished the same. He looked at me intensely like all day long he’d been trying to not really see me. Hazel eyes that now I couldn’t make myself look away from even if I tried. But why would I want to look away. So, we stood together in the doorway to my flat taking each other in. The air changed and it felt thick and warm. This closeness, the smell of coffee and chocolate, his entire being. I felt drunk. Until my flatmate opened the door. Walking between us, she kissed my cheek said she was going to meet her girlfriend and just like that the spell was broken.

“I do hope to see you again Remus.” I said touching his elbow. A smile that told me I would see him.

Predictably I dreamt of him. He was golden. A halo ordained by the winter sun. Truly magnificent. I’m not even sure what happened in the dream just that he was there. Standing tall and smiling at me.

Two weeks went by until I saw him next. Completely by accident. This time it was my chance to stop you from falling.

Me and Marlene stopped by the local for a drink. Marlene and her girlfriend were in an argument and history told us this was the way to get her mind off it. Sitting at our usual booth I was on a mission to buy as many of the rounds that night as I could. So far, I had gotten three rounds of cider and I was working on getting the fourth. Before I spotted Remus I saw the boys from my year 9 English class who were no longer boys. James had a mop of curls that flicked around his neck and ears pushed away from his strong face which his glasses took up most of. Sirius almost as tall as Remus but not quite. His hair much longer than before which was pulled back, so his face took centre stage. Much angular than before but his eyes were as piercing as ever. Then Peter, who hadn’t grown much. His blonde hair once straggly and poorly cut now shaved close to his scalp. Still a little chubbier than the rest but now it filled his face well and he seemed surer in himself. All of them laughing. They were always laughing. As I approached the part of the bar, they were stood around Remus began walking backward as though animatedly telling a story. All his friends wide eyed knowing what was about to happen but offering Remus no warning. His foot caught on the carpet that started a few meters away from where his friends were stood. Just as he was about to fall back, I stopped him. Grabbing his arm and stabilising him causing his friends to laugh even harder. James and Sirius doubled over having to hold each other up and Peter threw his head back laughing manically as he did.

This time it wasn’t just his ears that turned pink, but his entire face turned beet red. Stumbling over his words shooting murderous looks at his friends and a soft apologetic look to me. I’m not sure he even recognised me at first. But when he did it seemed like he was confused asking himself: does it being them make it worse or better? The boys answer that question for him when they addressed me by name. Which is funny because I’m not sure they ever learned it in school.  

Looking shyly down at me Remus said my name with a smile. Ruffling his hair and shoving his hands into his pocket all fidgeting and nervous. “I think now I owe you a drink.” He said with a lopsided grin.

“How about we call it even.” I say to him feeling a little embarrassed myself though I didn’t know why. I got the attention from the barman and order for me and Marlene completely intending to leave the group alone and return to my booth. But James attempted to drag me into the conversation.

“Remi here was just telling us about his date he had last week.” He said before taking a swig of his drink.

“Yeah apparently Remi here is in love. Though whenever anyone says they’re in love with someone other than me I’m always sceptical.” Sirius joked.

Remus stayed red and stumbled over his words, “I didn’t say I was in love.” He says to me in a way that suggested he thinks that bothers me. Which it does but I won’t tell him that.

“Well do invite me to the wedding Remus. Sorry boys but I have a friend to get back to. Have a nice night.” I say as I sway back to my table simmering with hot vile jealously. I put the drinks down with a little force causing a spill that I mop with my sleeve leaving it sodden and stinking of cider.

“What was that all about?” Marlene ask peering at me over her drink.

“Oh, just some idiots I went to school with. Nothing important.” I say downing my pint.

“Oh, okay I sure do believe that” she says sarcastically then her face changes, “wait, isn’t that the guy who walked you home?” She asked like she already knows the answer. Then she puts the drink down and stares at me like a mother about to scold her child. “Is that why you haven’t brought anyone home these past weeks. Jesus, I thought you were a found again virgin or some shit. Now I know you’re just hung up on some guy I feel a lot better.” I lightly whack her arm.

“I didn’t bring anyone home for two weeks I think born again virgin is a bit of stretch don’t you Mar.” I whack her arm again for good measure. “And he’s not the reason I just haven’t been into anyone recently and the date I went on last week with that weirdo Lucien or whatever his name was, was awful because he was a raging tory not because of some old school friend I ran into.”  I say with a little bit too much annoyance because I know that she is a little right but who cares.

“Someone’s a little defensive.”

“Well someone else is being a little- “

“Sorry to interrupt.” I hear him say. Marlene and I snap our heads at him because we love a good drunk argument to get it out of our system. There Remus stands with two ciders in his hands and rosy cheeks, smiling widely at us. Completely unaware of what we were arguing about.

“Don’t apologise,” Marlene says changing her tone, “we were just chatting, talking, you know conversating.” She smiles like she thinks she’s gotten away with something.

“Oh right, um I brought over these because your friend here stopped me from falling on my arse in a very crowded room, so I decided I owed her a drink.” He says placing them down on the table.

“Oh, so this one isn’t for me.” Marlene says pouting as if she hasn’t got half a pint in front of her (that she didn’t even pay for)

“It can be, if you want but I was wondering if um,” he said my name again and it regrettably still made something glow inside me, “you wanted to go and have a bit of a chat.” He looked at me with big soft eyes and an even sloppier smile.

Is this the version of Remus I want to talk to? I ask myself. Is this weirdly jealous and angry version of me who he really wants to talk to? Before I have a chance to answer Marlene decides for me.

“Yeah actually I have to go,” she says hastily grabbing her stuff, “Dorcas just texted me, I have to go now.” She says kissing my head and I see her sly grin as she leaves.

“Well I suppose we don’t have to go anywhere for that chat a seat just opened up.” I smile at him sliding one drink to me and the other to the space next to me. He sits down and shuffles along to sit beside me knocking knees as he does. He gets comfortable in the seat taking off his dark denim jacket and takes a sip of his drink. As he puts it down, he spills a bit and wipes it up with the beige sleeve of his jumper.

“So, did seeing the boys make you realise that we’re even louder than you remember?” He says nervously looking over at them. They were looking back until I too stared and suddenly they were extremely interested in James shoe.

“Yes actually. I am a little shocked they even know who I am. Beside the point though it seems like you’re always having fun which is nice.” I say eyes still trained on them. A girl around my age approaches them, tall and radiant. Her auburn hair twisted up on the top of her head, she looked like she’d just come back from work. She kissed James on the top of his head. He looked up at her with big warm gooey eyes and kissed her cheek. A moment so tender and intimate I want to look away.

“Who’s the lucky girl?” I ask intending to be told who James beautiful girlfriend is.

“There is no lucky girl those gits were just trying to wind me up.” Before I can interrupt he continues, “They knew that the girl I was talking about was you and they knew your name because I used to have the biggest crush on you in school,” he stop momentarily to rehydrate, “So much so they were sick to death of me talking about it which is why they were such a pain in English. I didn’t say I was in love you by the way I just said that I couldn’t stop thinking about you and was beating myself up because I cannot believe I left without asking for your number or without kissing you. I mean I truly am the biggest moron I know. Although sometime in school I probably did say I loved you. I was a little dramatic back then. Evidently not much has changed.” He looks at me with half lidded eyes. We stare at each other for a while because I’m not sure he knows what he’s said. I see him slowly figure it out because his eyes widen and suddenly looks entirely sober. “Oh god.” Is all he says as though he’s about to rest his head in his hands. I intend to show that I feel the same by taking his scarred rough hands in mine, but he’s obviously committed to throwing his head in his hands because his head hits the sticky table.

“Remus.” I say all high pitched and concerned. Then his friends follow it with a chorus of laughter.

“Oh god.” He says again.

“Come with me.” I say taking his coat and his hand.  A chorus of high pitched ‘oohs’ follow from his friends.

I lead him to my flat knowing Marlene will be MIA for a few days. I turn on the lamp and Remus looked like he wanted to curl up into a ball and be forgotten by the world hunched over on the patch work sofa. Still dramatic.

“Remus,” I say sitting next to him on the old sofa, “look at me you idiot.” He swings his head up but his eyes are closed and his hands covering most of his face.

“I don’t want to.” He says grumpily.

“Look at me,” I say taking his hands in mine noticing a small cut on his head, “you got to do most of the talking in there and no offence but if I were to declare my feelings for you I’d rather it not be with your friends eavesdropping.” He groans again. “I did have a really nice time with you, and I did feel jealous when your friends made up that girl. I really want to be a hopeless romantic, but we don’t really know each other. I did have fun with you, and I would go out with you again. But next time please ask for my number because this is rather dramatic.” I say smoothing his hair and holding his cheek in my hand.

Remus looks at me with big eyes warm and gooey like James. A smile playing on his lips like I somehow said the right thing. Then he says my name again. Smooth like hot chocolate. “Can I have your number?”

“Of course.” I say and smile playing on my lips. Then he leans in and kisses me softly like a whisper.

[acloudofsparklingdust]

hi

I was also raised 7th day Adventist and I’m a closeted lesbian. I don’t hate my religion..because I personally didn’t have a bad experience with it in my childhood, but it clashes a lot with my beliefs and well parts of my identity. I’m feeling a bit helpless because this religion has been a big part of my life, a lot of strong women I look up to in my life are sda, and my local sda community is very wholesome. And by now you can sense my reluctance in letting it go. I’ve been coping by thinking I should find a gay-friendly sda church once I move out.. if I ever get married. What’s your journey been like? 🪴

Hey! I don't meet a lot of sda online, it's interesting to hear a different perspective. I'm gonna go into everything, bc my experiences with sda really shaped me, and yeah, it's been a wild, not so fun ride.

Basically I was baptized catholic as an infant, but my family isn't practicing catholic. My mom is very religious, and wanted me to have a good education... In Brazil, we have very poor public education in primary and secondary school, and the best schools are the private ones... Which are also religious schools. So I wound up studying in a sda school from kindergarten to highschool graduation.

So from a young age (4 yo) I was raised on my school's religious beliefs. I was really involved, and my childhood best friend was also sda, she lived a couple floors down from me and we'd hang out often, and her family would bring me to church on Saturdays (there was a sda church across the street from the apartments we lived in). I was the staple Christian child, I prayed every night and every morning, apart from all the prayer at school ofc. At 8yo they did a talk at school about the importance of baptism, and I asked my parents to allow me to be baptized as sda. My mom surprisingly didn't want me to be baptized again, not so young, but my dad said I should do what I wanted, so I was baptized again at the school's church. Literally the school had an auditorium for our weekly religion-related classes, which we called "chapel", and was basically like going to church – but mandatory, as it was during school time. This specific school also had a church built on the side, so yeah.

During my early childhood through preteen years I had no issues with the school's teachings and sda ideology. It was all I had ever known, my family encouraged religion and we'd also sometimes (rarely) go to catholic church. I honestly didn't even realize people could not believe in god until I was 12/13.

I had never really heard much about being gay, or being anti gay during primary school - I may have forgotten having ever heard it from teachers. I only heard about homophobia from peers, and so I knew that being gay was a bad, evil, gross thing.

When I was around 11/12 we moved to a smaller town, and I started at a smaller Adventist school. I was the only one in my small newly found friend group who was baptized, and moving was very traumatic for me, so I started becoming less active in church. I became severely depressed because of the move and other stuff at home, and turned to the internet for a distraction.

I first heard about atheism from a youtuber, and he was known for his controversial takes (he's pretty nasty, it's only gotten worse with time but anyway). I guess a mixture of depression, becoming a teen, having my rebellious phase, I started researching into it.

My religion teacher (we had "religion" classes, but they should really have been called "7th Day Adventism classes") was much harsher than the one I had at my first school. This was around the time that Twilight was a big deal, and I read those books sooo many times for comfort, I got into Harry Potter etc. Not long after I moved to this school, we had a religion class about how Harry Potter was inspired by the devil. My books were often confiscated during class, even if I had already finished my assignments and was reading quietly, even if they were just on my desk. Being super depressed and introverted, with very few friends, books were my refuge. Having the teachers look down on them and literally say they were devilish and evil really started to shift my view of the religion. I knew these were good books, I loved them. So how could they be evil?

I have a very strong memory of praying and praying once and begging Jesus and god to help me, to give me a sign, because I was terrified of losing my religion, of losing god. All I had learned my whole life was that god is good, god is love etc. How come god wasn't helping me, my family, through some of the worst times? How come I was alone?

At around 12/13 my cousin came out to me as bi, and soon after another cousin came out as gay. I barely fully understood what that meant, and the internet was again where I researched about it. I realized I liked girls at the time, but I never understood you could even be married to a woman, as a woman. Even though I knew I liked and was attracted to girls, I never let myself think too much on it. The school was pretty obvious about how marriage is between a man and a woman, our "sex talk" was a class with our religion teacher. Bio talk was split, the boys left the room so we could learn about female anatomy and stuff, and then the boys had the room, etc. Our religious teacher was very adamant about how one shouldn't have sex before marriage, and marriage was between a man and a woman so...

Honestly the basework they laid was to erase homosexuality. I didn't even grasp that I could be anything but attracted to girls, I didn't realize I could do anything about it.

And then in highschool, I guess bc we were old enough, they finally started being outspoken about their hatred of gay people. There would be snide comments from the Portuguese/Lit teacher, a disgusting talk from the History teacher about how gay men's sexual activity leads to anal incontinence, the Religion teacher saying it was wrong, comparing it to criminality, the school's vice principal giving us a lecture and making sure to hammer in the worst thing anyone could turn out to be was homosexual.

At this point I thought I was okay with my same sex attraction, I thought these things weren't getting under my skin. But then I learned about being trans, and I came to the conclusion that since I was into girls, I couldn't be a woman. I identified as trans from around 15-19. That was internalized misogyny and homophobia, that was me actually letting all the snide little comments settle deep in me, and shape who I was.

Anyway, at around 14 I was done. School was teaching us that bastard kids aren't blessed by god (me and my siblings are all "bastards" as my parents were never married). They told us couples who lived together and we're never married were not blessed by god, and implied they were bound to have issues for their sin.

I was a teenager living in a broken home, my father was emotionally abusive to me and my mother, and honestly at the end of the day I had to choose if I wanted to believe in a god who was supposedly love itself, yet didn't protect me and my young siblings and my mom... Or not believe in god at all.

Leaving the church and coming to terms with not believing in god was one of the toughest times in my life. My depression was in the gutter, I was self harming, I was struggling. I remember thinking of my cousins, whom I was very close with growing up, and knowing they were good people, so how could god not love then? I remember thinking of myself, of all I had done for the church, for god, and wondering how could god not accept me.

For me, the church was poison. I only saw hypocrisy, I saw people who judged each other, who cared more about their own concepts of right and wrong than being mindful of others. I saw my teachers who preached being kind, but ridiculed and laughed at other religions and those who believed them. When I was questioning religion, I always had sooo many questions for my religion teacher and so often she just told me that some questions were too big for us to understand, that only god could fully comprehend himself.

I'm proud to have come out the other side, but I won't lie. The community that church represents does seem so lovely and welcoming. I wanted to be a part of something, and church offered that.

But at the end of the day, there's no space for me, a lesbian, in there. They don't believe gay marriage is okay, they don't condone our "lifestyle". They think this is a choice we're making, and a bad one at that.

The childhood friend I mentioned earlier, who I used to go to church with, actually came out as a lesbian a couple years ago as well. Her sda family is giving her a really hard time. She's left the church, last I heard.

Honestly, my advice would be to find other community. Find community with other lesbians, people who can accept you unconditionally, who can offer you support without small print. That's what I'm trying to do.

I personally am against christianity for a lot of other reasons besides my very negative experiences. Maybe that's not you, and in that case I guess finding a church that is LGB friendly can be the answer. I couldn't judge anyone for choosing to stay, because like I said I really understand how nice it can feel, how it's like you belong in this community, how it can feel like the church is family.

But I really suggest deep soulsearching, because in my experience all they ever did for me was suck all my energy, all my devotion, and spit me out when I was never going to be the heterosexual good girl they expected me to be.

Sorry for the super long answer, I hope this helps some? If you wanna talk more in private you can hit me up through DMs, I'm very willing to listen and talk about it.

[luvknow]

how to tame a prince | seo changbin

genre: dragon prince!changbin x fem researcher!reader | fantasy/royal au ; enemies-to-lovers ; swearing summary: you travel the world collecting data so you could write your thesis on your favorite creatures - dragons. at the last leg of your journey, you accidentally fall asleep in a dragon’s cave owned by a nearby kingdom and are kidnapped by their prince, seo changbin. after getting permission to study there from the king, changbin refuses to leave you alone with his precious dragons and you develop an unlikely relationship. wc: 11.6k

Your very first memory as a wee little kid was when you were waiting impatiently in bed for one of your parents to come and read you a bedtime story. Your library was filled with infinite amounts of educational, but kid-friendly books just for you. Your father was the one who filled bookcases upon bookcases of those books because he knew the second you were born that your mind craved infinite knowledge. And he was right! You loved reading the shelves in your name because they held words that your school was too afraid to say. In fact, you got in trouble a lot simply because you said those words.

Witches, trolls, spirits, goblins, ghouls, magic, you name it, you read it, you said it and the school was not very happy with neither you nor your parents. But that’s ok, because your parents didn’t care for what the stuck up old hags said, anyways. They weren’t going to be those parents who hid their child from the vast unknowns of the world because they were trying to ‘protect’ you - they wanted to show you the unknowns. They’d take the scolding for as long as they can - as long as that little fire that burned for knowledge was still lit in your heart, then they had nothing to worry about.

No one expected any less from the famous apothecary family.

You were maybe ten by the time you read about dragons. Ten was a sensitive and impressionable age for most kids, but keep in mind that you’ve read about nearly every large carnivorous creature to exist by then. The largest was a griffin (or was it a hippogriff?), but even to you, a lion-horse-eagle with talons and wings didn’t impress you much. So when you came across the mighty dragons, you were hooked.

Some were monocolored, some were multi, some had wings with no legs, and some had legs but could still fly, wasn’t that marvelous!? Dragons were all over the world in infinite flavors with infinite purposes unknown to ordinary humans like you, but that’s what attracted you to them - they were a species of infinite possibilities.

Dragons were a complete mystery not only to you, but to the world. Aside from the tamers that lived in the mountains, the forests, and in between, no one really knew about them outside of a very select handful of good academic papers and books and whatever the professors were hiding from the world. So you took it upon yourself to do God’s work and research about dragons yourself. There has to be some kid out there who was just as curious as you were, right? And what do they have for resources? Old scrolls and beat-up books. You couldn’t recall exactly when in your childhood you decided to write your thesis on dragons, but you guessed it was somewhere between when your parents got their first shipment in of pitch black dragon’s blood and when you saw a patient burst in with a poisonous bite on his thigh.

“What happened?” a younger you asked, yelling over the bloody murder-screaming patient.

“This man was in the forest hunting and accidentally shot an arrow through a baby dragon. Let’s just say the mother wasn’t too happy about his presence,” your mother giggled. “Now I have to use all of the dragon blood from our last shipment to pour over this nasty wound along with a huge dollop of our magic creme. Will you get the gauze for me?”

You obeyed and handed her the roll. She cut long enough to wrap around and cover the wound and cut up a smaller piece to ball up and stuff in the patient’s mouth.

“Ah, much better,” your mother sighed when the screaming subsided. “Suck it up, will ya?”

After that intriguing encounter, you read about dragon’s blood and its purposes for the whole week.

You spent all your free time until you graduated secondary school reading about the creatures of the world. Your grades would slip up here and there because you failed to read the current literature assignment or the chapter in calculus, but you eventually graduated and thank God for that, right? Your parents were exhausted after nearly fifteen years of parent-teacher conferences. Now you could read about, write about, and talk about dragons as much as you pleased. They were the center of your childhood and now they were going to be the center of your world.

When it was time for you to leave the nest, your parents didn’t shed any tears. Rather, they couldn’t stop themselves from grinning because they were so incredibly proud of their curious child.

“Where will you go?” your mother asked.

“To every dragon habitat I can find. They say the dragons that inhabit the forests and guard the streams and lakes are the most um, temperamental, so I'll start there.”

“Just don’t be a stranger, ok?” As you nodded, she pulled something from her pocket - a little black vial tied to a long leather string. She looped it over your head and let the glass dangle and shine like a jewel. “It’s dragon’s blood. But only use it during a lifesaving emergency, do you understand? Don’t be stupid with this! This was very expensive…”

“Yes, mom…”

“And don’t waste it on some stupid stranger! Make sure you save that for you and you only -!”

“Yes, mom…!”

“Take this also,” your father said, handing you an apple-sized glass jar with a dark green creme in it. You never noticed your parents had an affinity for dark things, but then again you grew up in a shop painted pitch black your entire life, so you never cared to notice.

“Magic creme?” you asked.

“For not-so emergency emergencies. Who knows what kind of nasty stuff is out there that we don’t know about! This could save your life one day, too.”

You placed the jar carefully inside your bag that was stuffed with only the essentials. You had tons of notebooks, pens, clothes, some snacks, miscellaneous things, and lots of money all packed up. With the dragon’s blood around your neck and a jar of magic creme, you were all set to go.

You set off to a deep forest about seven days travel away - quite the distance for your first location, but luckily the locals in every passing town were super helpful. They all pointed you in the right direction without asking for a single coin, and you think it’s because they think you’re doing them the favor of slaying a dragon rather than study it because they all warned you about the tamers.

“Be careful while travellin’!” A farmer warned. “Them dragon tamers don’t take a liking to slayers. Can’t imagine why! Ha!”

“Oh, I’m not -”

“You should hurry! You don’t wanna be stuck in the forest when it’s dark. That’s when the goblins come out.”

On your way in, you wrote and took note of everything you could see. The height of the canopy, the types of fruits and flowers, the shape of the leaves, the sizes of the rocks - literally everything! You even taped a couple of leaves into your notebook as both a reference and a souvenir. They made your notes look cute.

A couple of hours passed since you’ve been sitting on a rock by a pond that totally looked like one that a dragon would drink out of but alas, nothing even remotely close to a dragon showed up!

Just as you were about to give up and go back to your inn for the night, the leaves of the forest danced with the sudden strong gust of the wind. The moon was shining without a cloud in the sky, but then a long figure shadowed the light and the forest was almost pitch black if it wasn’t for your campfire.

“What an enormous creature, huh?” a gentle voice noted. From the shadows of the trees, an older woman stepped out into the moonlight with a kind smile on her face, amused by your dropped jaw. “First time seeing a dragon?”

“Can you tell?”

“Oh, yeah. Wanna take a closer look?”

“Really!?”

“Of course! You gotta study them somehow, right?”

That night you learned that both dragons and their tamers were naturally intuitive like that. Did you really look so much like a researcher?

Your first encounter with a dragon was absolutely terrifying. When you read about them being huge, you never thought they’d be this huge! But size didn’t define her personality a single bit. This dragon was a gentle giant and you were lucky that she was your first study subject. Her scales were gorgeous shades of blue and you’re devastated that you’ll never be able to capture a color so unique that it didn’t have a proper name. For days you drew, pet, fed, studied, and talked to her until you got all the information you wanted. Who knew leaving your first dragon subject would be this hard?

“Where are you off to next?” your tamer trainer asked.

“I don’t know, to be honest. Do you have any suggestions?”

“I think you should head to the waters and then the mountains. You’ll hit the mountains first, but get through them as fast as you can.”

“Why?”

“Those dragons are not one to be reckoned with. You need to build your experience with other dragons first - you know, get the hang of meeting different personalities. The dragons of the river are much more forgiving than the ones of the mountains. Also the mountain tamers are assholes.”

“Is that so?” you chuckled.

“Yeah, fuck those guys! They think they're the shit just because they’re high in altitude, can weather the worst conditions, and have the toughest dragons to tame. So smug, that group… Be on your tiptoes when you travel through there.”

When you left the following morning, you took heed to her advice and traveled through the valleys of the mountains straight to the rushing rivers that lead to a waterfall that dropped for miles. It appeared to be an ordinary river. At the top of the river, not much was seen besides foamy waters. But after a days trip down to the bottom, you saw an oasis. The waters were crystal clear and chilling which was very refreshing to drink after all the walking and climbing. At the pond where the river ended was a school of koi fish of different colors and patterns. Legend had it that koi who can swim up the waterfall turn into a dragon - at least that’s what your books said. And maybe they were true, especially when you watched for hours how some koi were able to climb a short ways up. But it’d be another thousand years until another koi-dragon would be born.

The newest dragon was golden. He was an excited and ambitious serpent with claws and a head of a lion. Though intimidating with his beady eyes and long whiskers, he was friendly the moment he noticed you weren’t a hunter. Again, it was crazy how dragons had an intuition about people just from looking at you for a couple of minutes. This lone dragon appeared without a tamer, playing with you for only a quick moment, though it was enough for you to write down everything you had about him. As quickly as he came, he disappeared up the waterfall to where only the Gods knew.

In the span of two dragons, you filled out nearly an entire notebook already! You hoped to fill out a million more.

And that’s what you did. You spent years and years travelling the globe to all corners with trees and bodies of water. But not the mountains - not yet, at least. You weren’t ready for that. You spent those years studying dragons who all kind of looked similar. Many were serpent-like with snakeish bodies, heavy heads with long whiskers. You haven’t encountered any four-legged-type yet, which was what you assumed to find in the mountains. Guess you saved the best for last, huh?

You were down to your last set of recently-bought notebooks by the time you reached the mountains. You hoped the village had some for purchase and you could send the ones in your bag back to your parents to read. They were your biggest fans when it came to your books and for that, you were thankful.

It's cold in the mountains when you arrived. It was still daylight, but the snow was barely tolerable when gusts of wind flew in your face. You figured a storm was brewing as the sun began to set and set up camp in a conveniently-placed cave. The cave was huge, ginormous even, and obviously way too big for any human to create. But you were way too tired to question it - even the rocks were comfortable to you, that’s how tired you were! And it seemed like no one inhabited it at the moment, so for now, you'd be safe.

The crackle of your campfire was the white noise that helped you fall asleep. You were knocked out dead the whole night that you didn’t even notice you were getting kidnapped.

“What the -” you said, struggling to wake up from all the noise. A bunch of black leather and fur-cladded people surrounded you. An angry looking one, who you assumed was the leader, snatched your backpack. “Hey, give that back!”

When you lunged forward to take your bag, a red-hot dragon roared behind him deep inside the cave and you fell to your knees before your captors in fear and amusement. With wide eyes, you ignored the people robbing you of your only belongings and watched the creature breathe a hot, white fire. He was a full-grown adult, you could already tell. With wings of a bat, clean ruby scales, and a body of a serpent, you’ve never seen a dragon more beautiful. You took mental notes of every detail and hoped these people would give you your books back soon before you forgot.

Tight metal shackles were being cuffed on your wrists when you snapped out of your daze. One man pulled you roughly to your feet and made you look at their leader right in the eyes.

Ah, he’s a bit… short… for a leader…

“Who are you,” he demanded sternly.

“I’m a researcher,” you answered honestly. “I research dragons.”

“Is that what you do before you kill them?”

“N-No, I would never -!”

“Then what the fuck were you doing in his cave?” he sneered, referring to the fire-breather behind him.

“I didn’t know it was his cave.”

“You just happened to stumble in, is that it?”

“Well, yeah, I guess -”

“Bull fucking shit.”

“It’s not! If you’d just let me get a word in, I can explain -!”

“Take them away.”

“Wait what, away where? Hey, where are we going!?”

“You’ll see.”

The leader’s henchmen dragged you through the snow all the way back to their village miles away. Though seemingly mountain folk, they actually lived in the valleys where the temperature was much warmer that even flowers bloomed from the soil. The dragons must have been the ones who inhabited the mountains.

All of the townspeople dressed like your captors - decked out in leathers and furs, charcoal lining their eyes decoratively, and silver jewelry that showed off their social status. As you were cuffed and exposed for everyone in the village to see, you side-glanced the leader. His ears were bejeweled with dangling drops of silver and ear shell cuffs so shiny that they were blinding. His fingers held some heavy metal, too, some encrusted with rubies and garnets. The aesthetic of these people, though a bit bold, was quite stylish, even if it was just a palette of silvers, blacks, and reds.

The leader shot you a sharp glare.

“Staring is rude,” he sneered.

“I wouldn’t have taken you for someone who cared for manners,” you scoffed back.

“Do you know what I do with strangers who stare too long?” You didn’t answer. “I gauge their eyes out with a melon scooper.”

You let him win that round.

You were taken to a castle at the edge of the town whose walls could be seen the second you stepped foot in the valley. Its architecture was intimidating, which was quite fitting for such an, um, unique people, but it was beautiful nonetheless. You couldn’t wait to be locked up in there until you died.

The following events were a blur as they all lead you to God-knows-where to do God-knows-what. A torture chamber? A dungeon maybe? You hoped the dungeon or wherever you were going at least had a dragon to guard the door.

You entered a grand room where the King and Queen sat on their black thrones. Finally, you'd get to talk to the true leaders of the village, not this shrimpy delinquent who threatened to melon ball your eyes out and his buff henchmen who did his dirty work. Maybe you could at least get a word in with mature adults. How dare they capture you without letting you explain! Although your captors looked angry when they first saw you in their cave, the King and Queen didn’t seem as disgusted.

“What is this?” The King asked with genuine curiosity.

“We found her sleeping in Jin’s cave.” Ah, so Jin was the dragon’s name! A handsome name for a handsome dragon.

“Was she doing anything else…?”

“No… but she might’ve if we didn’t catch her.”

“Hand me the bag.”

The small man handed your backpack over to the King. He inspected it and was surprised to see that nothing else was found other than your essentials and notebooks, which was what you were trying to explain to your captors in the first place. The King flipped through your notes and you couldn’t help but burn a deep pink. No one besides your parents have read your notes and you felt embarrassed and exposed seeing someone squint at them like they were judging every sentence you wrote.

“These are very thorough,” he commented. “What exactly do you do?”

“I research dragons for this thesis I’m writing.”

“A thesis?”

“Yes! Hopefully to become a book one day. I-I swear I don’t kill dragons!”

“How do I know you’re not lying?”

“I don’t have any weapons on me. I’m completely defenseless! And theoretically speaking, even if I could slay a dragon, wouldn’t you think I would have fought back from being captured? All your people captured me unscathed. Also, do you really think that I could slay a dragon and come out alive?”

Your captor hated to admit that you were right, but you had a point there. Even so, he refused to let you get away with sleeping in Jin's cave.

"Fine then. You're free to research for your thesis."

"What!?" the leader shrieked. "But Father -"

"And you, Changbin, are to leave them unbothered. I shouldn't have to waste my time on something as pointless as this. Both of you - all of you - get out of my sight."

The henchmen left without question, followed by the King and Queen, and finally their guards. It was you and the leader named Changbin left alone and you couldn't leave until you were unshackled and had your belongings. The boy stayed glued in his place as if he couldn't believe that his father let a complete stranger get so close to his precious dragons! Honestly, if you were in his place, you'd think the same thing.

Changbin shot you another glare. "Are you going to move or will I have to drag you out the same way you came in?"

"I'll gladly leave once you take these things off of me."

Reluctantly, though quickly, he strutted to you and unlocked your wrists with a key. As you stood up and dusted yourself off, your bag was shoved harshly to your chest nearly knocking the wind out of you.

You can smell his cologne as he leaned in. "I'm watching you," he threatened.

You held in your breath so you wouldn't seem afraid. Was it working? How was it that you could muster the courage to stand in front of dragons but a measly prince who smelled nice made you nervous?

"Be my guest," you replied back nonchalantly.

A soft 'tch' was heard before he stormed out of the room to finish his stuck-up princely duties, or whatever. Everything was still in your bag, including the magic creme you still had plenty of left, so you were thankful for that. Now that you're in the clear to study as much as you could about the four-legged-dragons, it seemed like your only obstacle now was Changbin. Even if he kept his promise about keeping an eye on you, you just prayed that he wouldn't get in the way.

Now to find an inn far away from the castle...

You rented a room at an inn at the very edge of the village closest to the path that would lead you back to Jin's cave. It was still afternoon by the time you settled in and you had time to buy more notebooks, some food, and most importantly proper clothing. Rumor has it that the weather's going to be unbearable the next few weeks and who knows how long you'll be here? So you bought whatever you could to stay warm and boy, did you look like a local. Black and fur wasn't your style, but you looked good in it, so you couldn't complain. Fur made you look fancy.

You set out for the cave as soon as you were finished with your errands. Four-legged fire breathers were most active in the nighttime and you weren't going to waste a single day out here. You wanted to spend as much time as you could studying not only Jin, but the other dragons that guarded this village. You hoped that the other tamers were nicer than Changbin because the likelihood of him letting you study Jin without a problem didn't seem very high.

As you entered the same cave just after the sun was setting, you saw someone made it to Jin before you. Guess Changbin wasn't going to let you study Jin problem-free afterall. He sat on a rock in front of his relaxed dragon as if he was waiting for you. The moment the echo of your footsteps could be heard throughout the cave, the dragon's eyes snapped wide open like a snake. Sharp, long flames shot up from his flaring red nostrils, dangerously close to the unbothered boy.

"You're late," he sneered.

"For what?"

"His feeding."

Changbin stood up from his rock and ushered the abnormally-calm dragon to follow him towards you. The cave shook every time Jin took a step and if you thought he was huge from afar, well he was ginormous up close. You didn't notice you unconsciously took steps back until you reached the outside of his cave.

"How was I supposed to know it was his feeding time?" you pouted.

"Some 'dragon researcher' you are if you don’t know a dragon’s dinner time."

The boy brushed your shoulder as he passed by and you're ashamed you let him, but you figured it'd be smart to let Jin pass by first. He took a quick whiff at you as he passed and you took his disinterest in you as a good sign. Maybe that meant he liked you? The other dragons you encountered usually expressed that they liked you, but you'll figure this out later. For now, as you followed them, you'd take mental notes of Jin's appearance, like how the blue-ish tint of the moonlight made his scales reflect back the slightest purple.

You followed the Prince all the way back down to a vast farm filled with cows and goats, exactly where you hoped to not end up. The animals were munching on the plush green grass but you were too distracted by Jin’s hungry growling to enjoy the peaceful scene. Changbin looked back at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Got your fancy notebook ready?" he asked, but didn't let you answer.

He held his hand out to the openness of the farm and Jin happily flew towards his meals. Really you should have been terrified that this large beast mercilessly chewed up livestock, but God, was this fascinating! Jin was the type of dragon who had fun with his meals, tossing them up in the air and catching them whole as opposed to not wasting any time and just eating like a 'normal' dragon. It was almost like he was a dragon pup, but maybe he was just a pup at heart.

Changbin looked annoyed that you were enjoying this. "You can't seriously be entertained by this."

"Some dragon researcher I'd be if I didn't enjoy this," you muttered, not taking your eyes off of the red beast and your notebook.

"You're not normal, are you?"

"Really, what's normal these days? Also no, I read a lot of books when I was younger."

"You look like a bookworm."

"Thank you." The oh-so high and mighty Prince scoffed at your remark. "You don't like that I'm here, do you? Or rather you don’t like me at all."

"What gave it away." He made sure to make it sound like a condescending statement rather than a curious question.

You closed your notebook for now and focused on Changbin, who can't seem to keep his eyes off of you even when he was trying to be insulting. Were you that interesting to him, or something? "But why? Is it just me, or are you like this with all of your visitors?"

He walked up to you - more like strutted, in all his leather and bejeweled glory - until you could smell his cologne again. There's a bit of playfulness on his lips once he stopped in front of you and you're starting to think that he's enjoying the back-and-forth dialogue you two share. Could it be that he likes the company and that he’s just teasing you? Then, his pointer finger grazed your collarbone, sending bursts of chills across your skin. He hooked his finger around the strap of your necklace and pulled out the vial of blood that you hid in your shirt.

He tugged forward so your faces were close and your breath hitched in your throat. "I don't like you because you claim to love dragons, yet you wear their blood on your neck like a trophy," he seethed.

“How did you know?”

“You reek of it.”

"It’s not like I slayed the dragon -"

"If Jin were to kill someone right now and I wore their blood around my neck, does that make me any less barbaric?"

"Does their blood have the healing properties of a God?"

Changbin dropped his hold on your neck and rolled his eyes, heading back over to his precious beast. "You're barbaric," he yelled into the night.

"As a traveller far from home, I need this! Not all of us have your luxuriously stagnant lifestyle as royalty!"

"No, but I can't imagine a life with apothecary parents was quite difficult."

He called over his rubied dragon who flew to him in a heartbeat. Though having just eaten a ton of livestock, the blood from eating blended in with his scales, and for that you were grateful. Jin still doesn't seem to mind your presence and Changbin took notice of it right away. Yet another reason to be annoyed with you - he was never this welcoming to strangers! Some guardian dragon...

You're still in shock about how he knew about your parents. He was almost too intuitive. "How did you know that?"

"Dragon's blood is the world's rarest commodity. Only the best apothecaries can get a hold of that stuff. Lucky you."

Jin flew up into the air, swirling gusts of wind all around you and Changbin, nearly lifting you and the remaining livestock off of your feet but the Prince was already used to this. Once he was airborne, the mighty beast flew back the way that you came, high into the mountains to either go back into his cave or play in the night sky.

Changbin was already heading back towards the village in the valleys when you were done doodling in awe. You had to run to catch up to him - what kind of Prince leaves a guest in the middle of a dark field unattended!?

"Do you ever fly with him?" you asked, trying to break the tense silence.

Changbin nodded. “Sometimes.”

“Just for fun, or…?”

“Sometimes for fun, sometimes for errands.”

“How is it?”

“How is it?” he repeated, cocking his brow. How has a dragon researcher not flown yet? “It’s indescribable.”

“Can you try describing it?”

“Why don’t you just ride one and see how it feels?”

“Do I look like I know how to fly a fifty-ton beast?”

The Prince halted just before entering the village and turned to look at you incredulously. “Do you know how to do anything with dragons besides just standing there and watching them?”

Embarrassed, you scratched your head. “Not really…”

He shook his head disapprovingly. “Not only are you barbaric, you’re hopeless.”

Changbin walked away, leaving you to on your own to walk to your inn.

“Asshole,” you muttered.

You really did not want to see Changbin multiple days in a row for however long you were going to be there. Instead, you asked the locals to see where other dragons’ caves were in the mountains. At first they thought you were a slayer in disguise, but then they realized you were just bat-shit crazy after you told them you were a plain researcher who enjoyed making a living out of your passion. Regardless, they told you where the other two caves were hidden. It was incredible that there were only three dragons in total for such a vast mountain range, but it seemed like that was all they needed.

Halfway up the mountains towards the second dragon’s cave, you realized that maybe you under dressed for the occasion, even as the sun was still out and shining. Multiple pelts of fur was enough to keep your body warm, but you failed to purchase a damn scarf to cover your face from the icy winds. But you couldn’t turn back now! You came too far already.

Just as you were mentally cursing yourself, you felt a snowball hit the back of your head.

“Ow! What the fuck!?” you screamed. You didn’t even have to turn around to know it was Changbin.

“How unladylike of you to swear,” he teased.

“How unprincely of you to harass a lady!”

“‘Harass’, relax it’s just snow. And ‘unprincely’ isn’t a word.”

“How about I call you ignoble instead.”

“Hey,” he said threateningly, pointing a finger at you. “Don’t call me that, you barbarian.”

You didn’t care for his name calling as you turned around and continued walking towards the cave. You can hear Changbin’s footsteps behind you. As if the day could not get any worse, the snow thrown at your face began to melt and trickle down your neck and chest, making you feel cold, uncomfortable, and shivering so hard that even the Prince started to feel bad for you.

You felt a long wad of fleece being draped over your face messily on purpose. The kind and chivalrous Prince just gave you his scarf! Oh, lucky you.

“What is this for?” you asked.

“You’re an idiot for not dressing properly for the mountains.”

“Sorry that I don’t live near mountains...”

“It’s common knowledge. That’s my favorite scarf by the way, so don’t get it dirty.”

Today marked the day that Changbin showed an emotion other than disgust towards you. You even wrote it down in your notebook.

He walked ahead of you the rest of the way and you weren’t sure if he was leading you or because he didn’t want to stand next to you. You followed anyways, knowing that you’d be completely lost without him otherwise. It was a wonder how you made it up this far without him to begin with. But you probably would have found your way eventually, right? Why did he have to babysit you! And how did he know when you were leaving to go every time!? But if you really thought about it, if you had dragons of your own, you’d act the exact same way - no one would ever lay a hand on your babies.

The second cave was just as open as Jin’s, but no dragon could be seen in the shallow parts of the entrance. Unlike Jin’s cave, torches lit with fire were stuck on the walls and led you so deep inside that you couldn’t even see the end.

You stopped in your place. This was kind of spooky, wasn’t it? What if this was where you’d die? What if Changbin was leading you to some satanic ritual where they tied you up like a boar and the dragon would cook you up like a pot roast for dinner and -

“The hell are you standing there for?” Changbin’s voice echoed. “Are you scared, or something?”

“Uh… or something,” you replied shakily. “Where are we going?”

“Do you think I’m going to kidnap you again?” A playful smirk grew on his lips.

“It wouldn’t be unlikely.”

“She’s all the way in the back for a reason. See for yourself.”

Reluctantly and with your guard up, you followed him to the back of the cave. The cave was so deep into the mountains that the torches stopped somewhere in between and Changbin had to grab the last one hung up and lead the way. While you took notes on the cave depth, Changbin waited impatiently for you to catch up.

“It’s just a cave, what do you even need to take notes on?”

“Jin’s cave was nothing like this one. I have to take note of everything and anything - that’s what researchers do, after all.”

“Doesn’t that take a long time?”

“Oh, it takes forever! But I don’t mind.” There’s a content smile on your lips that has Changbin wondering what kind of weirdo he got stuck with. You’re interesting though, and you can hold an intelligent conversation, so he can’t complain about being bored at least. “You don’t have to keep waiting for me. I won’t try to escape, I swear.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about.”

“You’re worried about something?”

“It gets really dark in here. You’ll get lost if I leave you behind.”

“Hm, sounds like you’re worried about me ~”

“If I lose you and you die, my ass is next because my Father will think I’m the reason behind it. Can’t have the King thinking that, now can I?” Changbin ignored your pouty lips and kept moving forward. “Hurry up, we’re almost there.”

Luckily, he was right. At the very end of the cave was a huge, courtyard-sized nest with a tired pitch black dragon napping inside. Her scales were so matte black that even the fire that circled the walls didn’t reflect. You could see her spine rise and fall as she slept peacefully. For a quick moment, Changbin smiled at your dreamy eyes, but then quickly frowned again before walking around the nest to the sweet spot.

“Where are you going!?” you whispered harshly, hoping not to wake up the dragon. “Don’t leave me here!”

“Shut up and come look.”

Even from a distance, you could see Changbin gently smiling and you’re not sure whether you were more curious or frightened by it. Regardless, you tiptoed over to your enemy to take a peak at what he’s smiling at and you nearly burst into tears.

“Holy shit, dragon eggs…” you whispered. Under the ginormous black dragon was a handful of equally-black eggs.

“They’re due soon. Happens only once every thousand years, you know?”

“Of course I know.” It was too hard to hold in your grin as you doodled the masterpiece in front of you. “Does she sleep all the time?”

“She’s practically hibernating until they hatch.”

“Incredible! What’s her name?”

“We never gave her a formal one. We kind of just call her Queenie. She’s my mother’s dragon.”

You watched Changbin stare at the beautiful dragon fondly. He was kind of cute when he wasn’t glaring at you. “Do you like her a lot?”

“Mm. Jin may be mine, but Queenie’s my favorite. Don’t tell him that, though.”

“Your secret’s safe with me, Prince.”

Changbin let you do your thing and waited for you to write down all the details you needed. Since she was just sleeping, you didn’t have much to write down, but you wanted to draw as much detail as you could for this picture. Your previous ones hadn’t been so detailed because the dragons were constantly moving, but now you had the time to do so.

You knew Changbin was watching over your shoulder when you could smell his cologne. He was so close that even bits of hair tickled your cheeks. You tugged your notebook to your chest.

“What do you want?” you asked suspiciously.

“You’re actually really good at that.”

“Is that a surprise?”

He shrugged. “Kind of. Let me see.”

“What, no!”

“As Prince, I order you to let me see.”

“You’re not my Prince!”

Your whining was useless because he was able to snatch your notebook away with just a few tricks. You were too embarrassed to try to fight and take it back as he was already flipping through all the pages you had on both Jin and Queenie for the next several minutes. You felt so vulnerable now that not only the King has seen your work, but now the Prince, too.

“They’re messy, I know, b-but it’s just a draft! I plan on writing harder copies later.”

“They’re fine,” he said, handing you back your book. “If your notes weren’t messy, I’d question your methods. And you’re surprisingly literate with your words.”

“Gee, thanks,” you deadpanned.

“I’d like to read your other notebooks sometime.”

“Really? Why -”

“That’s an order.”

“Again, not my Prince!”

His cologne gets stronger the more you’re able to smell it. It’s like he’s sewing the scent into your brain. “When you’re in my village, I am your only Prince. Is that clear, _____?”

Oh, no - he finally figured out your name and it sounded chilling coming from his lips. You didn’t react or say a word as he brushed passed with a triumphant smirk. It was then when you let out a sigh of relief. What the hell was his deal!? Did he hate you? Did he just like teasing you? Or was he actually beginning to tolerate you? Like you even?

When you exited the cave still dazed from seeing dragon eggs for the first time, Changbin grabbed your arm so you stop.

“Do you want your scarf back?” you asked.

“When you go see the last dragon, come find me.”

“Why, so you can babysit me again?”

“Yes.” The sternness in his voice and his furrowed brows let you know that he wasn’t playing around. “The last one’s not like the other two. There’s a reason his cave is the farthest away.”

“Which is?”

“He has a really bad temper and has trust issues. He only trusts my Father.”

“So loyal.”

“That’s one way to put it.” He squeezed your arm lightly, like he knew something bad was going to happen regardless. “Promise you’ll find me before you go.”

You nodded sincerely. “I promise.”

“Good.” And he took off ahead again, hoping the redness on his cheeks would subside.

You wrote this moment down in your notebook.

You spent the next several cave visits studying the Prince and Queen dragons with the Prince himself. Not only were you not ready to see the Mighty dragon yet, but you also thought you didn’t get enough info on the other two. You insisted that you could go on your own to both caves, but Changbin’s reasons for not leaving you alone were 1) he trusted no one near Jin and 2) he trusted no one near the eggs. But didn’t he know by now that you were completely harmless?

“‘Trust no one’ is my motto and I always keep my word,” he said when you told him that you could be trusted for the hundredth time.

“Didn’t the King say to leave me unbothered? And don’t you have to follow the King’s orders? So aren’t you breaking your word to the King by keeping your word to your motto?”

“Like I’d actually listen to my Father.”

“You’re telling me that you never listen to the King...”

“Not when he’s wrong.”

“Wow, you’re such a rebel.”

While you would write down and doodle in your notebook, you let Changbin read your past works that you had on hand just as he asked. You remember spending the entire night before skimming through them and seeing if any of them were too dumb or didn’t have enough fancy words but you honestly couldn’t tell which notes were good or bad. You were so nervous for him to read them that you lost a lot of sleep, but you could really use some criticism that wasn’t from your parents, so you hoped this was worth it.

Instead of Jin feasting on livestock, Changbin told him to fly off, hunt on his own, and bring back whatever he caught for you to see.

“You think we can afford to feed a dragon livestock everyday?” Changbin scoffed. “We may be rich, but not that rich.”

“Quit scolding me, I’m here to learn for a reason,” you pouted.

“Speaking of,” he paused and held out his hand to you. “I believe I ordered some notebooks.”

“You get one notebook for now.”

Changbin gladly took the one you gave him and carefully read in silence. You tried patiently waiting and editing your notes until Jin to returned, but you kept on getting distracted by the Prince’s hums of either approval or disapproval - it was itching at you that you couldn’t tell.

You tried to peak over his shoulder to see what he was reading. You smelled like the flowers from the shop in the village.

“Whatcha lookin’ at?”

“Your study titled Hydra At the Edge of the World,” he replied, not looking up from your notebook. “It’s actually fascinating.”

“You really think so?”

He nodded. “I haven’t read much on other species of dragons so this is all new to me.”

“Some dragon tamer you are,” you teased, but Changbin wasn’t having it when he shot you a sharp glare you were so used to. “I’m kidding!”

“How many notebooks have you filled?”

“I don’t know to be honest. Fifty maybe?”

“You have fifty whole notebooks filled? Jeez, how long have you been doing this?”

“A few years. By now I thought I’d have a system when it came to note-taking, but I find that the fastest and easiest way is to write like a chicken with its head cut off.”

“I noticed,” he mumbled. “I expect to read all of them, by the way.”

“All of them!? You want me to ask my parents to ship the rest back to you, Your Highness?”

“That’s an order.” You don’t even bother to fight back. Rather you couldn’t stop the wide grin forming on your lips. “What’s wrong with you face?”

“You inadvertently said that you like my work ~”

“Shut up, I did not.”

“Let’s pretend that you did.”

You eventually finished editing your notes and you and Changbin ended up sitting on the grass next to each other. While you watched the sun set behind the mountains, the Prince finished up one whole notebook and clamped it shut. For a long while, you both shared this moment together in silence. No bickering, no teasing, no awkwardness - just pure peace. Out of all the places you’ve visited, you must admit that nothing was as beautiful as the sun setting beyond the snowcaps.

“He normally doesn’t take this long,” Changbin said. “He must be trying to impress you.”

“Little ol’ me?”

“He tends to do that for people he likes.”

“That’s so cute! Did you teach him to do that?”

“What makes you think I’d teach him something so pointless?”

“You seem like someone who’d try to impress someone you like.”

“You don’t know me,” he muttered.

“I really don’t. You’re confusing.”

“Good.”

“You haven’t tried to go all out for some hot Princess or your suitors or something?”

“No. I don’t need to do anything - I’m already impressing.”

“Ha!” you scoffed too loudly. “I don’t know about that.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ll admit you give lasting impressions. Like you kidnapped me, threatened me, won’t leave me alone, but I wouldn’t say you’re impressing…”

“I’m the Prince and heir of the only Dragon Kingdom left on this planet! I own a dragon, for fuck’s sake! I’m also sexy!”

“Mm, not so sure about that last one.”

“I should throw you in the dungeon.”

For the first time, Changbin got an earful of your light laughter. His father would often describe his mother’s laugh as sweet as syrup and for once he can understand what the King meant. Your laughter, mixed with the sight of the stars, was almost too sweet. Changbin didn’t know what to do.

“Don’t laugh at me,” he scolded.

“I can’t help that you’re funny for once.”

“Ok, Miss Professor. If you don’t think I’m impressing, what makes you so special?”

“Nothing really,” you answered honestly. “I’m quite ordinary.”

“You’ve traveled the world, studied over fifty dragons, and carry dragon’s blood on your neck and you’re telling me you think you’re ordinary?”

“Do you think I’m fascinating, Your Highness? It seems you answered your own question.”

Changbin bit his lip as punishment for saying too much. He needed to watch his words around you more because knowing you, you’d use them against him in a heartbeat. He changed the subject.

“Do you like travelling the world?” he asked.

“Yes and no. Yes because I met some amazing dragons and people, but also no because I miss home.”

“What was it like? All the travelling, I mean.”

“Incredible. A bit lonely, but incredible. I wouldn’t trade it for the world. There’s so much out there that’s yet to be discovered, you know? And I’m doing some of that discovering! It’s a wild place out here.” Changbin hummed. “Do you travel often?”

He shook his head. “Almost never.”

“You’re kidding!”

“I only ever travel for marriage contract reasons.”

“Ah…” Somehow, you’re disappointed. Maybe disappointed wasn’t the right word. “Are you engaged?”

“No, thankfully. We travel to meet the royal families, but it never works out. Their intentions for our dragons are for war and that’s not what they’re raised for. And marrying for contract is so old fashioned. Isn’t it supposed to be about love, or some bullshit?”

“Do you wanna fall in love, Prince ~?”

“I’m not answering that.”

“How romantic ~!”

“Shut up.”

“All jokes aside, I’m sure you’ll get to travel for joy one day. Maybe even with the love of your life ~” you continued to tease heavily as you poked his arms.

“Stop it!”

Just in time, Jin swooped in with his catch of the night in his mouth. Like an excited puppy showing you the toy he fetched, he dropped an entire tree a ways in front of you. Jin’s eyes glistened proudly as he waited for someone’s approval.

“Whoa…” you gasped, quickly scribbling this down in your notebook.

Changbin on the other hand sighed tiredly as if he experienced this too many times before. “Good job, Jin,” he said robotically. “You better throw that away.”

Jin let out a purr or content growl of some sorts and once again flew away with the tree stump. Just past the village, he dropped off the tree like it was garbage and flew beyond the valleys as if he was flying to find where the sun had gone.

“Sorry about that. He usually brings home his catch and eats it in front of me. Guess he really was trying to impress you.”

“I’m definitely impressed all right.” You turned your notebook around to show the embarrassed Prince your drawing of a happy Jin with his tree. “What a scene, huh?”

“Mm. Cute.”

“Sorry, what was that?”

“I said get up, I wanna go home.”

Sourly, though with a smile on your lips, you followed the grumpy Prince back to the village. By the time you arrived, it seemed that the townspeople had packed up their shops for the night and went home to their families. Had you and Changbin really been out for that long?

“Where are you staying?” he asked.

“I can walk back by myself.”

“It’s that inn isn’t it?” You followed Changbin’s finger pointing to the building not too far behind you.

“How did you…?”

“It’s the farthest from the castle. Figured you wouldn’t want to see my face often for however long you’re staying.”

“You’re smart.”

A smug Changbin led you the couple blocks down in front of your inn. Before you headed inside, you turned to him to say goodnight, but he interjected.

“There’s a festival in a couple of days,” he said. “It’s to celebrate the birth of the dragon eggs. She’ll fly and carry her eggs to a special nest on the field. The whole village participates.”

“Whoa, really!?” you gasped, eyes sparkling. “I’ve never been to an egg hatching or a dragon festival.”

“I’ll pick you up at 6:00pm.”

“You want to go with me?” You could feel your cheeks blush deeply. Aren’t festivals like a couple thing?

“That’s not what I said,” he mumbled. Before you could tease him directly about it, he was already walking back to the castle. “Don’t be late.”

“Goodnight, Changbin!” you called out.

He liked how you said his name. “Goodnight, _____.”

Between your last study session with Changbin and the day of the festival, you took the time to study the townspeople as they prepared for the egg hatching. It was total chaos, in the most organized way, as everyone scurried around the village to hang all of the flowers, baked all of the goods, and cooked only the finest cuts of meat. It was a colorful festival, despite Queenie and her babies being completely black, but the contrast would a beautiful sight to see. Beyond the town, in the fields where you and Changbin would wait for Jin to finish eating, the area was scattered with the same flowers in the shape of a circle. Sort of like they were preparing for a ritual. Candles and tiny flames joined the flowers so everyone could get a clear look.

You suddenly felt under dressed for the occasion, or at least under accessorized, so you bought a few things in town to spice up your look a bit. Somehow you knew the whole village knew about how much you and Changbin have been hanging out since you arrived by both the teasing looks you received from the men in town and the sour ones the ladies gave you. Did Changbin post that he was picking you up at six all over town, or something?

You continued to walk around town and enjoy the festive atmosphere in your get up because you weren’t going to wait at the inn until Changbin picked you up like some cheap date. Your time alone without having to worry about the quality of your notes or whether or not Changbin was just tricking you and waiting for the right moment to kidnap you again was the most peace you had since you left home on your journey. But it was quickly interrupted when someone harshly bumped into you.

“Ow! What the -!”

“Swearing is unladylike ~” Changbin teased.

“Yeah? Shut the fu -”

He shoved one of those yummy fish pastries filled with chocolate into your mouth to shut you up. If it was any other person, you’re sure you’d be biting their head off, but you can’t do that to the Prince in public, right? Besides, the bread was really good, so you can’t complain.

“I thought you were going to pick me up at six?” you asked.

“I wasn’t on my way to pick you up just now.”

“What are you doing then?”

“Can’t a Prince walk around the festival in peace?”

“Don’t snap at me when you’re the one who bumped into me!”

The Prince only shrugged, not really caring to argue. Were you supposed to follow him or leave him alone? You wished he’d be a little more transparent with you, just a little. But as you decided to follow him, it seemed that he didn’t mind your presence, anyways, so you just stayed with him. You hadn’t gotten a good look at what he was wearing until now. Normally, his clothes were almost all black, with the exception of his tan fur and silver chains. Tonight, though, he still wore all black and the finest leather money can buy along with some royal purple handkerchief thingies and some other pieces of clothing you couldn’t name. His rings and jewelry were still rubies and silver, but tonight they were bigger and better.

“You don’t wear a crown or a robe or have a bejeweled cane with you to bring to these events?” you mocked.

“No… At least not until I’m King. Why, do I look bad?” he asked, genuinely curious about what you thought about his ensemble.

“You look good,” you answered honestly. “Noble, but modest. Purple and red really suit you.”

“Thanks,” he said awkwardly then cleared his throat. “You look… different.”

Oh, God. Have boys always been this stupid? “I bought some stuff in the market today. I thought I should look a little nice for this occasion.”

“I mean for once you don’t look like a total nerd who studies for twenty hours a day. So I guess you look nice,” he muttered.

“Sorry, could you repeat that?” you teased, leaning in closer. “I couldn’t quite hear you.”

“I’m not saying it again.” In an instant, everyone around you started to carefully jog or speed walk towards the open field. “It must be almost time.”

You and Changbin got lost in the sea of people running like a school of fish swimming in a stream. There were moments when you’d lose sight of the Prince and you were a bit scared, but as if he read your mind, he found his way to you and grabbed your hand. Like in those fairy tales your father read to you as a kid, time seemed to move in slow motion when your hand was in his. His hands were cold - only fitting for someone like him - but they were soft, and you found yourself laughing as you continued to run. By the time you reached the circle of people, you were out of breath and his hands were warm. Naturally, the people opened up the circle to let their Prince in. After the chaos of running and weaving, you both made it to the center of the circle where the King, the Queen, and a mother dragon with her hatching babies were. Changbin still kept his hold on you.

The sea of people were far away from Queenie to give them some space. Every so often, she would wiggle and move about because her eggs would. When she knew it was time, she removed herself from the makeshift nest and waited patiently with the townspeople for all four of them to hatch. Pieces of black eggshells would pop off here and there and each time Changbin could feel you grip onto his hand a little tighter.

“You’re cutting off my blood flow,” he said.

Immediately, you let go. “Sorry! I’m just so excited! This is incredible!!”

“It is.”

The entire village was silent when the first baby made her grand entrance. She used her wings to break open the shell to reveal her healthy self and then hopped her way towards her mother. The village erupted in loud cheers and cries, rooting for the other three to hurry and break free, too. You joined in with the crowd like you were watching a joust and Changbin couldn’t help but think you were kind of adorable. He didn’t hold back his smile when you caught him looking.

“What?” you screamed over the crowd.

“Nothing,” he told you. “Don’t look at me, you’re missing it.”

When you turned to look, the other three began to wiggle in their shells and crack the surface. The second baby wasn’t quite as black - you’d argue that he was a dark blue (“Are you out of your mind, he’s totally black!” “Your Highness, with all due respect, you’re an idiot. He’s midnight blue!”). The third one watched his older sister. Truly, the first three were all as extraordinary as each other, but none could outdo their youngest sister. She was a moonlight white.

The townspeople are hushed silent at the sight of the youngest pearl. She was incredibly beautiful, a starking contrast against her siblings and mother. You tried your best to hold back your tears, but when the mother rejoined her babies, you couldn’t help it. They chirped and chittered as they attempted to fly for the very first time. Number one had it down as if she hadn’t just been born and led the way while two and three followed. Precious little pearl struggled a bit, but after mom gave her a little nudge, she was up and flying with the rest of them.

“Why are you crying?”

Changbin looked at you quite concerned. Well, maybe concerned wasn’t the right word - it was more of a ‘what the fuck was happening’ kind of expression. He was never good with feelings and stuff, but you already knew that.

“I don’t know! It’s just beautiful, isn’t it?”

Even through your tears, your smile was still as bright as the setting sun. Your true, passionate love for dragons was glowing golden tonight, and Changbin couldn’t believe that he ever doubted you for a second. Though you were smiling, he didn’t like seeing you cry, even if they were happy tears. He held a hand up to your cheek and lightly brushed away the tears.

“Stop crying,” he said sternly.

“S-Sorry. I get a little emotional when it comes to dragons. Can you tell?”

“I had no idea.”

You took advantage of the moment and dared to grab Changbin’s hand once more. When he didn’t pull away, you took it as a good sign and went a step further. For the remainder of the festival, until the rays of the sun could no longer be seen, you held the Prince’s hand and rested your head on his shoulder. Then His Highness did the unthinkable by resting his cheek on your head.

“Are you starting to like me, Prince?”

“In your dreams, Professor.”

“I’ll get you to admit it one day.”

“Try me.”

Changbin found himself at your doorstep so often that you were so quick to dismiss it and it all felt normal. Whether it be while studying the dragons or simply walking through the village, you spent almost every day the His Highness. At first, the stares and glares were hard to ignore, but when Changbin returned the gesture, the townspeople pretended to not know you at all. What a gentleman, right?

“Just say that you like me, Changbin.”

“I’d rather die.”

“Come on, I don’t even mean it like that, you know! Just admit that your judgement was wrong, that you apologize for kidnapping me, and that you’re begging on your knees for my forgiveness. It’s not that hard.”

“I’m not apologizing for being protective of my dragons.”

“Ok, fair enough. But I didn’t deserve such a forceful kidnapping.”

“I agree, but I’m still not apologizing.”

“You are impossible.”

It was all fun and games until you asked to see the last dragon. Changbin thought - hoped - he’d never have to see that day.

“You’re ready to see him? Finally,” he said.

“Yeah. I figured I can’t stay in your Kingdom forever, right?”

There’s a touch of sadness in your tone but Changbin didn’t question it. “Right.”

When you were ready to set off for the farthest cave in the mountains, You made sure to dress properly and even doubled up on the furs. With your notebooks packed, blood on your neck, and magic cream on hand, you were ready to see the Mighty Dragon.

“You look ridiculous,” Changbin teased.

“You told me I was under dressed last time! You’re so hard to satisfy… And coming from the man who strictly wears leather? Please.”

“Hey, the leather is so I can fly, ok? The scales don’t tear it up as easily as other fabrics!”

The cave was so far that it took almost half a day to arrive there. The cave wasn’t that special - it was neither too deep nor too shallow, neither too dark nor did it lack light. It was the ideal cave for a dragon.

Before entering, Changbin held his arm out to block you from entering.

“Stay behind me. He doesn’t like strangers.”

You nodded slowly, too afraid to speak. You kept your distance from the prince as he led you to the biggest dragon you’ve ever seen. Right in the center of the cave was a large, emerald green, sleeping dragon. The most striking feature about him was that he had whiskers that looked like they were made of gold. Needless to say, you were terrified of the Mighty Beast. So terrified that you couldn’t even buck up the courage to take notes.

As if he could smell your fear, his beady eyes snapped open and all you saw was black. No depth, not reflection, no emotion. Just black.

A loud, piercing screech comes out of the serpent’s mouth that vibrated the entire range. You’re sure there was an avalanche happening somewhere. His eyes seemed to ignore Changbin, who tried blocking you with his body, but it was no use. The dragon only saw you, an intruder.

Rising from ashes, he got up from his sleeping position and looked like he was ready to attack.

“It’s ok,” Changbin said, trying to ease the dragon’s nerves.

It was no use. In a second, the cave went up in flames. Uncontrolled, random balls of fire shot in any and every direction and if you and Changbin didn’t get out fast, you’d be mixed in with the ashes that flew with the wind.

“Get down!”

Changbin pushed you to the stone floor and all of your belongings went flying. Your snacks, the notebooks, and the magic creme were lost somewhere at the edge of the cave that you’d hope to find later. For now, you needed to focus on making sure Changbin was ok as he hovered over you with fire just centimeters behind him.

The Mighty Dragon let out one last screech before his grande finale.

“Ah, fuck!”

Changbin pulled his arm to his chest and you saw that the leather that once covered it had been completely burned off along with his skin. His arm was scorching like cooked meat and you can only imagine how much pain he’s in.

“Ch-Changbin…!”

All of the fire subsided. The snow that was once there evaporated and the cave was now completely dry. The Emerald Serpent no longer had any interest in either of you and flew out of the cave to only God knows where. The only thing that could be heard were your quiet sobs that echoed in the cave.

The Prince was still on top of you, shielding your body, not saying a word.

“Changbin…?”

“Hm?”

The boy rolled off of you and laid on the cold stone floor right next to you. His breathing was heavy, but all that mattered to you was that he was breathing. As you turned to look at him, Changbin was already looking at you.

“Are you ok?” he asked you.

“I-I think so. You…?”

The cocky Prince held up his flaming red arm as if it was nothing. “Yeah. Normal dragon tamer things.”

“Holy shit… Oh, my creme!”

Your legs were weak for whatever reason. Was your body too terrified to move? You struggled to crawl to the jar of creme that was now half empty and made your way back to an exhausted Prince who kept his eyes shut.

“Take your shirt off.”

“I’m fine.”

“Changbin, please,” you begged.

He couldn’t seem to resist your worried tone, so he did as he was told, even if it meant freezing for a little while. After peeling all of his layers, you were left with a Prince in a sleeveless shirt and a gnarly burn all because he was protecting you. You took hold of his burned arm and slathered your parents’ magic creme made for occasions like this.

“Ah, cold ~” he whined cutely.

“S-Sorry,” you sniffled.

Changbin’s eyes snapped to get a good look at your face since you entered the cave. You were crying. You were worried about him. And you were blaming yourself. You didn’t even notice the burn mark you had on your own cheek.

“Hey,” he whispered. “Why are you crying?”

“You got burned because of me.”

“I get burned all the time.” After you finished putting the creme on, he turned show you his shoulder blades that had tiny little burn stripes like a tiger. “This was from the Mother dragon. I got a little too close to the eggs once. And this one,” he showed you one on his rib cage. “From Jin when I first got him. Now I have one from each of them. I should be thanking you.”

He was able to crack a weak smile from you, but even then the tears kept on falling. He really shouldn’t be grinning at the sight of you crying, but you were just too cute. Did you care about him that much?

His hand cupped one the cheek with the burn mark and wiped away the tears.

“Stop crying.”

And you did. “Ok.”

“Give me that creme.” When you handed it to him, he took a small dollop and smeared it on your cheek. “Did you even know you got burned, Professor?”

“Really? Is it bad?”

“No, but it makes you look bad ass. You should take care of yourself once in a while, you know?” he teased. “What is this stuff anyways?”

“My parents made this magic creme that only they have the recipe for. It’s supposed to work on almost everything.”

“An apothecary’s magic creme? That’s the strong shit. No wonder my arm feels better.”

“Really?”

“Really. I’m fine. Let’s just go back, ok? Before he comes back.”

Changbin helped you pack up your fallen belongings and guided you home in the cold. You developed a newfound appreciation for the cold. Around the halfway point, the brave Prince dared to hold your hand.

“Stop thinking about it,” he said, referring to his arm.

“You’re so bossy.”

“I don’t like seeing you this way. I also don’t know how to be nice, so… this is the best you’ll get.”

On the way back, you talk about anything and everything that didn’t involve dragons or fire. You learned that Changbin was skilled in jousting, loved to cook, and had a soft spot for the farm animals. He learned all about your parents, your fascination with other creatures, and all things about plant life. You always joked about him not liking you but you somehow still believed he did, and now that he revealed to you deeper layers of himself, it really seemed like he liked you. Even if it was just a little bit, you saw it as an accomplishment.

You were finally back in the village fields come night time. The Kingdom wasn’t totally asleep, but it was peaceful quiet.

“Can I ask you something?” he began as you walked towards the inn. “What’s your plan now?”

“Now? To sleep, of course.”

“No, I mean… You’ve seen all three dragons. You saw the birth of four. Are you done here?”

“You mean am I leaving?”

He nodded. You needed a moment to think about that because honestly, you haven’t thought about when you’d be leaving or when you’d be done here. And you’ve traveled to pretty much everywhere… Where else could you go?

“I could leave if I wanted to. You know, I’ve traveled to every corner of the world in just a few years. I’ve seen many dragons, but none were ever like yours. I guess I could compile all my notes into a proper thesis. Get my book going.” Changbin adored the proud smile on your lips. “I think I’ll do that.”

“Do it here.”

“Here? What do you -?”

“I mean don’t leave.”

He knew he shouldn’t have said that when he saw your cocky smirk. “You’re saying you want me to stay ~?”

“Yes.”

“Because you like me ~?”

“Because you promised I’d read your other notebooks. You need them for your thesis right? Ship them here. I’ll help you write it. I can get you a proper study and room in the castle and get you out of that inn.”

“Wow, a room at the Grande Castle!? You must really like me, Prince.”

“Maybe.” He took advantage of his hold on your hand and pulled you close to him, loving the sound of your giggle. He wrapped his arms around your waist to prevent you from escaping. “Just a little.”

“Enough to kiss me?”

“Do you want me to kiss you, Professor?”

“Don’t turn this on me!”

“Say it and I will.”

“Ugh, I hate you… Kiss me.”

His lips were cold but soft, just like him.

[soranihimawari]

Hold me close:

Part 2 of the Kuroo x 1st person reader (1st/fem! point of view. Named her Nekomata, Kat or Shamu for calico cats)

Tag list: @vbcshenaningansnwritings & @kaidasen

Begin here :

My alarm on my phone began to chime at 5a.m. I stifled a yawn as I silenced it. I woke up to two texts on my screen both from Kuroo telling me to sleep well and another for the morning. To say I was amused was not the least bit a lie. I chuckled softly when I pulled my hoodie over my tank top. I remained in my workout leggings from the night before, however I opted to keep my hair down instead of tying it back in a top knot bun. Today was a different day, so perhaps after I sneak back in, Lev would be awake. After the events of yesterday, I think he’d appreciate the gesture of me trying to help him control his aim. I slipped on my sneakers close to the classroom door, careful to not disturb any of my sleeping neighbors. 

I was greeted by the Nekoma captain leaning against the opposite side of the wall dressed as casually as I was. He was quick to take hold of my hand and lead me down the hallway of our campus. In a matter of minutes, we snuck past all of the rooms hosting the different teams during the training camp. We did not speak a word to each other until we were outside the campus gates. Kuroo let go of my hand asking me where we were headed.

“I just wanted to get some peanut m&ms and coffee,” my groggy voice seemed to have been filtered with gravel this morning. “I didn’t want to walk these streets alone.” Kuroo nodded, agreeing with me that these streets were safely lit, but I shouldn’t be walking in the dawn alone. We reached the local 7/11 by our campus where we went aisle by aisle browsing through different products. 

I stopped in front of the coffee machines and hid my tired expression by rubbing the side of my eye. 

“Here, lemme pour that. You seemed tired enough as it is,” Kuroo offered. 

“O-okay. You know, I could do it myself,” I teased. However, he wasn’t having it, to which I laughed off later. He poured one for himself as well. Soon, we exited the store, splitting the bag of candy between us. He noticed I was only eating the the primary color ones first before moving on to the oranges and greens, finishing the bag with the browns.

“Why do you do that?” he asked. I suppose he was entertained by my color-coded pickiness.

“All m&ms are the same milk chocolate. Is there anything wrong with color coding my candy?” I inquired. I began to sip the remainder of my coffee little by little as Kuroo continued walking at my side. The streaks of the morning sun began to filter through the light gray clouds overhead.

“No. It’s just funny is all.”

“Of course it is. How’s the coffee?” 

“It’s fine, Kat. Just like you.”

“Are you attempting to flirt with me right at the sunrise?”

“Maybe. Is that bad?”

I took another swig of my coffee. My cheeks were a bit flushed with color from the hot beverage, but there was an underlying redness to them and I knew it was from his compliment.

“No. Actually, coming from you, I think that was rather sweet.” My lips curled into a childlike smile. He arched his eyebrow at me before choking on his next sip of his coffee. This caused me to burst into maniacal fit of giggles.

“One compliment in for the day and I have already broken her.” Kuroo muttered when he was able to calm down. By 5:25,  we were already back on campus grounds, awaiting the rest of the members of the teams to wake up. Morning practices typically included a jog, so everyone except for the secondary managers and myself stayed behind to begin preparing breakfast for the players.

In the kitchen, I heard the mixer for the scrambled eggs go off as well as the toaster ding every couple of seconds or so. Hitoka was in charge of the eggs while Yukie, the manager from Fukurodani, was in charge of the toast. I, on the other hand, was manning the gas lit stove. I rolled up my sleeves and put on my earbuds. I played jazz selections from the early 40s-late70s while making the rolled egg omelets. We did this for roughly an hour and a half, until the teachers and coaches walked in to see how efficient we were at making breakfast. 

“Yukie, Hitoka, help me out by beginning to fry some of the bacon please on that stove over there,” I instructed, tossing my head back over my shoulder to point to the stove.

“Yes ma’am!” they said in unison.

“That granddaughter of yours is something else,” we heard Takeda-sensei compliment me. Nekomata clasped the young educator by his shoulder.

“Of course she is. Kat leads by example. After all, this isn’t her first training camp with me,” my grandfather stated. 

Around 7:30 all teams had returned from their morning run and began to walk through the kitchen. I made sure Yukie and Hitoka ate before the boys came and wrecked havoc on the simple spread of breakfast items we had laid out for them. I paused my music for a moment before I disappeared back into the kitchen to make myself a plate of over easy eggs and buttered toast. I took my plate and wandered off to the back of the kitchen to sit on one of the steps. I placed my earphones back in once the volume of the chatter were echoing, just this once, I would like my peace to eat alone. A morning spent with John Coltrane’s Giant Steps was a morning well spent, in my opinion. I stifled another yawn as I raised my arms above my head in an attempt to stretch. I overheard the coaches instructing their players which drills they were going to be practicing with through the lowered volume of my headphones. 

“Just enough time in between drills to start on lunch,” I said softly to myself. I checked the time of my phone and noticed I had about another thirty minutes or so before I had my one on one lessons with Lev. I pulled myself up off my make shift dining area and went back into the kitchen. I paused my music and disconnected my headphones in order to place them back in my shared room with the other managers. Those who went on the morning runs with their teams volunteered to do the dishes this time since the work was needed to be evenly balanced. I thanked the girls for their help while I walked back to our room to freshen up a bit more (i could tell I smelled like the meal I cooked for the boys, so a quick rinse was in order for me before I went to gym 3 sporting just my gray sports bra and magenta dry fit capris [with my sneakers on again]). 

I had arrived at gym 3 a couple of minutes late to see Lev, Yaku, Bokuto, and Kuroo taking turns practicing spikes. Bokuto spotted me out of the corner of his eye and he nudged Kuroo with his elbow. 

“What the hell Bo, that hu--Oh,” Kuroo said when he saw me standing there half clad ready to get work done. His blush was not very concealed when Lev and Yaku looked at their captain with knowing grins.

“Neko-senpai looks amazing,” Lev whispered into Kuroo’s ear. Yaku almost roundhouse kicked him, but he didn’t when Kuroo collected his thoughts into a solemn, “Yeah,” which Bokuto heard. 

Bokuto wasn’t as dense or as thick headed as every one seemed to me

“Hey hey hey! Kat’s here!” Bokuto exclaimed jogging up to me. His gray and white hair bounced along as he ran, which caused me to chuckle. “You’re going to join us?”

“Hey yourself Bo,” I said walking in. He picked me up in a hug and twirled me around before placing me back down on the gym floor. This caused me to see Kuroo’s nostrils flare in a small fit of jealousy. Yes, I may have known Kuroo for a short period of school time, but Bokuto and I were close in elementary school before splitting up to different junior high and high schools. We remained in contact over the years especially since volleyball was the one thing that brought our friendship together (that and gramps had a close friendship with the Fukurodani coach).

“Morning guys. Bo, you had your fun, but I’m actually here for Lev,” I said bending down to pick up a few of the strewn volleyballs. I nodded toward where the tall string bean first year stood. “C’mon, let’s use the other court set up for spike practice. Have fun boys.”

Lev followed behind me with a few more volleyballs in his hands and he placed them on the floor behind one of the serving boundary lines. His other companions were starting up a receiving drill (usually comprised of one setter and spiker duo and a solo player on the othrer side, typically a libero).

“Alright Lev,” I began bouncing one of the royal blue and canary yellow spheres on the floor. “I’m going to have you stand on the opposite side of the net and I want you to watch me as I serve. I’m going to need you to try and either one, let it go out of bounds or two, receive it. Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be, senpai,” Lev said with a shrug. I smiled with glee. This child wouldn’t know what hit him. I thought. Maybe I should hold back? Nah, my inner voice snickered. This is for the benefit of the team if he’s going to learn today...

I gave the ball a solid bounce before I walked behind the server’s line and tossed the ball high in the air. The split second the ball reached the appropriate height for me I leaped into the air and with another loud crack sprouting from my left palm,the ball whirred past Lev’s tall stature. I landed on my feet with a proud smile when I saw where the ball landed, it was inside the lines of the court, meaning that in an official match, I had scored a service ace. Gramps always taught me to try to aim for the spot none of the other players were thinking the ball would go. 

The others stopped for a moment in the middle of their own self practice long enough to witness the magic that just occurred. I guess I was able to shock them into a renowned silence. Honestly,because I had other interests than volleyball, maybe they thought I didn’t know how to play? However, there was no time to waste, so I bent down to pick up another ball to send over the net.

“Don’t tell me you three thought I couldn’t play volleyball? Me, the granddaughter of Nekoma’s formidable coach? Haha,” I teased, brushing my hair over my shoulder. Lev seemed petrified for a few seconds while his seniors shook their heads before chuckling along nervously at my strong serve. “It’s alright, I’m joking. So Lev, are you ready for another one?”

“N-no? How did you do that? I mean you almost hit me!” Lev said with an admiring sheen over his eyes. 

“Practice? I mean, you could have returned it instead of letting it slip by, Lev. Clearly that was a service ace,” I replied with a shrug. “You want to serve to me this time?”

He agreed on the condition that he listened to my instruction for the next hour and a half. His serves did get better, in my honest opinion. Lev had improved his command on where the ball was heading. I was able to return a few of his serves, but I have a feeling his technique would improve over time. 

“I think we ought to stop here before you over work your arm,” I mentioned, patting Lev’s shoulder when he crossed under the net. “Improvement is not going to come overnight, but your serving aim did gain some control.”

“You think so?” Lev asked me when he straightened up.

“Well, yeah. We’ve been at this for a little over an hour, but” I began. I had simply not paid attention to the time before Kiyoko and Yukie appeared to escort the boys to the main gym where their practice games were about to begin.

“You four clearly have practice matches to get to.” I walked toward the other three and ushered them out of the gym much to their protesting, but I was not budging on them missing out on team practice. Once the group had left, I began picking up the remainder of the volleyballs laying across both courts before wheeling the carts away to the side of the wall. 

Kuroo came back a few minutes later before I was able to press song shuffle on my phone’s GooglePlay. I tucked my phone in my side pocket of the leggings I wore when he greeted me with a bashful look. How did this captain seem so competely competent on the court yet now look like a shy elementary school kid who saw their teacher on their midday attire?

“Oh, Kuroo? Did you forget something?” I asked, wiping the sweat drops off my forehead with the back of my hand. I approached him when I noticed he was fidgeting with his hands like he did when he had something on his mind. I glanced up at him, thinking of what I should help the girls prepare for lunch, but that was neither here nor there.

“Uh, yeah. I did,” he replied, bending down toward me. It happened so quickly; his lips brushed against mine gently. No one would have noticed unless I told them that his lips lightly pressed against my own. A kiss for luck? I though. Maybe this was not what I was expecting at all; there was this inkling of short-lived innocent wondering what his lips would feel like against mine that floated in my head. Light like cotton candy and sweet like caramel, I mused.

When he pulled away, I yearned for him to kiss me again, but I tucked thought back into my mind. Kuroo looked over my shoulder for a moment before mentioning he should head back before his team would play without him. I traced my lips with my index finger, still feeling the giddiness spread across my body like wildfire.

“Good luck in your match against Bokuto, Kuroo. Oh,” I said reaching out to stop him from leaving for a moment. “Don’t be too mad at our friend for hugging me the way he did earlier. You did look annoyed when you have jealousy written on your brow...”

***

Later on that evening, before I went to bed, I received a text from Kuroo asking me to meet him by the vending machines by his classroom turned dorm for the training camp. He claims it wasn’t his idea, but Bokuto was the one who actually sent me the message, seeing as they had a phone mix up earlier after their practice games had ceased.

“Are you trying to blame Bokuto for this meeting?” I quirked my eyebrow up at him. I leaned against the side of the vending machine with my arms lazily crossed over my old Nekoma dance team shirt; my denim pants glowed with the backlight of the soda machine. “I remembered you guys accidentally switched phones, but you sent me a message considering the time stamp, to meet you here. So, what did you want to talk abo--mmph!?”

Kuroo had this overtly confident look in his eyes before he leaned into my personal space for the second time that day, he kissed me. This time, I was a bit more prepared. Upon impact, I screwed my eyes shut. I didn’t think anyone would of came out of their rooms considering how late it was, so all I could do was wrap my arms around his broad shoulders and pull his body closer to me. 

There was this feeling of being warmed up like a hot tea being served to you on a cold night when Kuroo placed a hand on my cheek; the pad of his calloused fingers traced the features of my face. This kiss had a meaning: there was a longing behind the way his lips melded onto mine. Apparently, Kuroo’s mouth seemed to be made of magnets, finding my own again like this afternoon. His kisses were curiously asking me questions like what do I see in him and why did he wait so long to kiss me like this? It was probably his dumb late realization of having a crush on me that drove him to kiss me this afternoon, the same logic behind now. I pulled away first this time, studying his facial features. His eyes slowly opened to reveal a slight dilation in his pupils. Kuroo was indeed falling for me every second we were in this position. I ran my hands through his now dampened hair, causing his once rooster like hair-do to be done again.

“Shut up and let me kiss you kitty-Kat,” Kuroo whispered to me when he rested his forehead against mine. The faint smell of bubblegum flavored toothpaste he used intoxicated my already quivering lips.

“Please.” One world was all I had to say right before a hand of mine gripped the collar of his ebony shirt downward. I had a small smile grace my lips before I let my lips smack against his first. This time it wasn’t a just a light peck; instead I mustered every ounce of what I thought was a one-sided crush emotion into every second I had with him alone against the vending machine. It seemed like whatever emotions we had toward each other was masked in our moment of a coup de tonnerre. Electricity was coursing through our veins, but we wanted to keep this intense moment going for as long as needed. I let held on to him for a few more seconds before his hand was lost in a fist full of my mane.

Then, I felt the heat of Kuroo’s hand leave my face to rest comfortably against my waist. That was until I released his shirt from my hold, only to grip his shoulders. In one efficient move, I twisted his body until his back was against the wall, pinning him there. I swallowed his laughter when I ran my tongue over his mouth begging for entry. He didn’t make me wait long because I don’t think he minded one bloody bit since he continued to keep extending this passion-fueled moment for as long as we could. We were too proud to let the other withdraw first considering whatever this was, we needed to keep being locked in a tight embrace. Funnily enough, when I felt him nip the corner of my mouth in jest, but I had to pull away from him before we got too carried away during “quiet hours.” I pressed a finger to his pursed lips before speaking in a hushed tone. Our breathing was a bit ragged, but considering the shit-eating grins on our faces strewn across our faces made the other feel a bit more confident.

“Your kisses are just as enigmatic as I thought,” I told him, resting my head against his chest. His hands remained wrapped around my waist gently. I patted his upper arms as a sign to let me go, even though I know he didn’t want to. Instead he pulled me closer.

“Yours leave me wanting more,” he whispered in my hair. He continued to press open mouth kisses against my neck, his nose brushing against the warmest part of my neck behind my ear. This sent shivers down my spine and he knew it. There was going to eventually be a lover’s bite there if I didn’t stop him by reminding him we have to wake up early again tomorrow.

“What if I don’t want you to go?” Kuroo’s voice had an inkling of a disappointed pout. I raised a hand to cup his cheek, explaining if he didn’t want me to leave his side after this training camp was over, he’d have to take me out a proper date to which he sighed before burying his head against the crook of the other side of my neck. I patted the back of his head when he asked what I was doing on a Saturday night two weeks from the end of camp.

“Apparently, I’m going on a date with you?” was my reply before I placed both of my hands on his face to make him look at me. I smiled softly when I kissed his cheek. I bid the raven haired cat captain good bye before we both began walking back to our respective dorms. When I looked over my shoulder, Kuroo bit his bottom lip at me; it was a cute emotion, but I knew he’d want more lf whatever this was going to be whether it was a relationship or a fling. The choice was up to him, and honestly, I am hoping for the first option. I’m sure his heart was telling him that too. I took my phone out once I had tucked myself cozily in my sleeping bag bed and sent a text:

(Incoming message below)

[soniakapoor636]

Top 10 Schools In Gurgaon

Gurgaon, now officially Gurugram, is one of the fastest developing districts in India. With rapid industrial growth, Gurgaon developed high tech infrastructure, IT centres, malls, golf courses and educational institutes. In the last few decades, the district has seen the establishment of many premier educational institutes serving quality education. Listed below are top 10 schools in Gurgaon for your guidance.

 1.     Ryan International School

Ryan Group of Institutions was founded in 1998 with a clear vision to become a premiere global educational institute. Ryan Group has established more than 135 schools across the nation and some overseas. The school promotes activity based learning and has tech-enabled classrooms, well-equipped computer labs, a well maintained and updated library, training for football and active participation in student exchange programs like trips to NASA and universities in the UK and USA.

 2.     Heritage Xperiential Learning School

Heritage Xperiential Learning School was founded in 2003. The fully air-conditioned campus is spread across a sprawling 12 acres and is equipped with one of the best infrastructures among schools in the NCR. Its leadership team consists of three alumni from the Harvard Graduate School of Education, an alumnus of the Harvard Business School as well as experienced educators from around the world making it one of the top 10 schools in Gurgaon.

 3.     Suncity School Gurgaon

Established in 2006, Suncity School, Sector-37D, is spread over five acres of land in Gurgaon. Its infrastructure makes it one of its kind in the area. The average class strength from pre-nursery kindergarten is 20 students and the teacher student ratio is 1:10, thus facilitating individualized attention. The school follows the Central Board of Secondary Education (CBSE) curriculum and is essentially a day school, providing a vast range of co- scholastic activities during and after school hours for the overall development of the children.

4.     Pathways World School

National and international experts decided to name the school "Pathways" to represent Howard Gardner's multiple pathways to learning. The school applies the multiple intelligences approach, developed by Dr. Howard Gardner from Harvard University. The institute is amongst the top 10 schools in Gurgaon. At Pathways, all students are encouraged to participate in International events, conferences and student exchanges. These programmes expose students to a wide range of cultural, educational and linguistic diversities during their stay in these countries.

5.     Shikshantar School

Shikshantar School, Gurgaon offers a world-class education, facilitating modern equipment and updated teaching methodology. The school allows admission from kindergarten to grade 12. Affiliated to CISCE board, the school caters to the children with air-conditioned classrooms, gymnastics, swimming pool, library, meditation room, medical aids, cycling track and much more. The school is primarily meant to cater to the educational aspirations of the students and parents residing in Gurgaon.

6.     Salwan Public School

Founded by Late Pt. Girdhari Lal Salwan, the school was established in 1942. The school provides world class infrastructure provided to train and nurture tomorrow's leaders with the capabilities that will come handy for a brighter future. The classrooms are well ventilated and equipped with LCD screens for interactive sessions. Students are provided with utility stationery items, a well lit and cool environment, bio-degradable and non-degradable waste bins, air-conditioned hub centres, sports and club activities. With world-class infrastructure and facilities, the school has successfully made its position in the list of top 10 schools in Gurgaon.

7.     Alpine Convent School

The School was established in 1996, with a vision to impart quality education to the students and nurture their innate capacities and potentialities. The infrastructure is focused on increasing the educational performance of our students. School buildings are well planned, spacious, sunlit, ventilated, temperature-controlled, green and enriched with learning-oriented features. In addition to the academic brilliance, the school benefits from a team of expert professional coaches for sports.

8.     Shiv Nadar School

Shiv Nadar Foundation made its foray into K12 urban private school education in 2012, with the sole purpose of bringing the finest learning experiences to students. Students at the Shiv Nadar School are well-rounded individuals who enjoy academics, sports, and arts with high levels of emotional intelligence. Strong communication skills, social warmth, grit, compassion and adaptability are their hallmarks. Their students are curious and reflective learners who are aware of local and global environments.

9.     Excelsior American School

Excelsior American School is one of the best International Schools in the National Capital Region. With a primary mission to develop a strong sense of self-worth and responsibility in students, the school has set a benchmark for its quality service. It is a day-boarding school with the UK's Cambridge-based curriculum. Excelsior comprises expert faculty trained in the American Montessori system. Students have facilities like an indoor and outdoor sports complex, multi-activity playground, student counselling and a kitchen with nutritious food.

10.     DAV Public School

DAV Public School Gurgaon is among the Top 10 schools in Gurgaon. The school came into existence in 1985 to provide an opportunity through quality education. This is a co-educational school affiliated to CBSE board. The school offers various facilities to the students such as spacious and air-conditioned auditorium, robotics lab, air conditioned audio visual room, classrooms well-equipped with smart boards, T.V screens & L.C.D projectors, sports ground and much more. It is one of the oldest schools in Gurgaon.

Quality education is about discovering the child’s inner talents, excitement in learning new things, being a good human being and a contributing citizen.

[hastexphase]

you tried, but it’s too late

the worst thing anyone has said to me, growing up. (ok, that’s apart from my parents’ standard line - your overconfidence is your downfall - i’m immune to that already. also explains why i’ve not been as confident coz i’m scared of overplaying it)

i digress.

it’s the worst because i was hurt. it takes a lot for me to be hurt, though i do get upset very easily. that’s different from being hurt btw.

ok, to give this post some context, i was failing math for the first 1.5 years in secondary school because i didn’t care if i was scoring well, since i knew from the very start that i’d be making Literature my choice of subject for O’s, apart from POA. to be in Lit class, you don’t have to be good in math. it was coined as the dumping ground for the stupid kids (actually more like those who can’t grasp maths la), but i didn’t see it that way coz i enjoyed Literature classes - not a surprise for someone who enjoys overanalysing things 🙂

anyway, my school announced the withdrawal of Literature as an O level subject for my batch in term 3 for some reason sadly, and we were told that the other subjects available for O’s were Art and D&T.

while i appreciate art and its history, i could not stand the thought of drawing and painting everyday. i’d rather be doing math. but to be able to do double math, i’d have to get an A for math for my FYE —

and so i did, because i knew i wasn’t gonna sit my ass down to paint things that are not of my interest, but that A itself was not enough.

i was failing math the entire year.

it didn’t help that my math grades were all in the E8~F9 zone.

the report card rounded my grades to a borderline C6, and i was devastated.

so the sentence from my math teacher came.

you tried, but it’s too late.

then it struck me- wow, he is right. i finally tried, because i knew i had something to lose - i’d be stuck doing something i really dislike - but it was all too late.

anyway, nothing magical happened afterwards la. wrote 2 appeal letters to get into the amath class but got rejected. dealt with art for 6 months and dropped the subject afterwards coz i felt it was a waste of time - preparing 20 A3 drawings for every damn exam. i had to beg my father like crazy... with tears no less fml. i only know how to cry.

shortly after, my art teacher spoke to me and expressed her disappointment. she even threw my classmates’ work on the desk and said, “look at the shit work i have to deal with. i don’t know why you gave up.” WORD FOR WORD.

i didn’t tell her that it’s coz i knew i didn’t need to rely on Art to get As for O levels. i wasn’t ready to commit to get an A for art anyway. it’s tough work and lots of time spent. ok this is the part where my parents’ classic line comes to play - your overconfidence is your downfall.

anyway, i wrote all these to remind myself to try over and over again, and not just work hard when there’s something to lose.

i don’t want to go through the entire “you tried, but it’s too late” for the 3rd time. 3rd because... i fked up my poly year 1 badly (also coz of my overconfidence, help) with a low 2 GPA.... realised that i wasn’t gonna go anywhere after that so i started going to school regularly. subsequent As couldn’t pull it up to more than a 3.1 coz the weightages got lesser after year 1. you need at least 3.6 to get into local U btw - which is a consistent mix of As and Bs, but coz I’ve had so many Ds in year 1 for modules with heavy weightages......... my Dad had to pay for it - expensive school fees for a shit school, aka RMIT lol.

anyway YA. i really don’t want to go through the whole regretting and shit la

i know very well for a fact that i’m only getting by right now. i haven’t been trying and i hate it.

idk if it’s fair to fault my mental state for it (i’ve been feeling all sorts of anxiety) but ya

i want to be able to try again. i know my potential.

(but also v scared because i don’t want to be too pleased w myself)

[islandpcosjourney]

Inspiration

12th April 2019

Where do we go to find inspiration if it doesn’t come to us naturally? Sometimes it just hits you out of nowhere but if you go in search of it you might be successful at finding it, or you might become stumped and hit a brick wall. The latter applies to me recently but to be honest, I wasn’t aware of it! My eyes have been opened!

Every April, I attend the Edinburgh International Harp Festival, for 27 Aprils now. Each year I either teach, perform or simply attend, in search of inspiration. It doesn’t usually disappoint with a wide array of performers from all over the world and teachers imparting their wisdom in terms of anything and everything you could think of. Each year I come away with a handful of CDs, listen to them on my way home, feel elated with musical creativity and then weeks later fall back into a bad habit of work/life normality. But I’ve never thought about it like this, until now.

There are certain folk who I only see at this festival each year so when we see each other some of the first questions turn to “so what have you been up to?”. This year, that question seemed harder than ever to answer. What have I been up to this year? Renovating my teaching room? Looking after the doggie I told everyone last year I was getting? But then he died and we rescued another doggie who has major anxiety problems despite her also being the cutest cuddle monster ever? Coming to terms with daily grief after losing my Dad? Nope, can’t use that one, that was last year’s conversation. Teaching? Yes. Performing? No. Same old same old? Yeah, that seems the right response rather than “I have no idea”. Nervous laughter later and…… oh, what do I say now? My life seems rather boring compared to their’s…….

But that wasn’t today’s blog inspiration, they were just some thoughts on the week leading to today’s writing. This post is inspired by a friend who read my blog and became inspired by it. Because that’s what inspiration is, isn’t it? Someone feeding you a nugget of wisdom, even just a fleeting thought and woosh….. Your mind goes off at 100mph.

I have struggled with my honesty since being interviewed on the Gaelic radio about my blog. I was called brave. I was called honest. I didn’t disagree with any of it but it struck me that with my honesty, could also come hurt and that prospect scared me. This is why I haven’t written a blog entry since then. The interviewer also asked me about what helps me with my condition. I said my dog, my husband, my family, my faith and then she prompted me, asking me if my music helped. Oops! How on earth had I forgotten about my music? My response was “Of course!” as music is a massive part of my life, but was that the truth? No. Music has not helped me with my condition. Music, as I once knew it, has been missing from my life and I hadn’t even been aware of it. Life had majorly got in the way and that’s an awful realisation.

I once used to perform on the stage at the Harp Festival. I once used to be creative and write my own music. I once used to just sit down at my harp and play, for fun, for joy, for no reason other than it was a part of me and that’s what I did every day. Those days seem so long ago, now that I think about it. Somebody else was catching up with me a few months ago and also asked if I still performed. I shrugged it off and made some excuse about being too busy teaching 5 days a week and renovating a house. Now here’s a nugget of honesty for you – this was not the vision I had of my career when I first decided to be a professional harpist – 16yrs ago. And now the tears come, with the realisation that I’m miles away from my plan. Is it ok to change paths? Is it ok that I hadn’t noticed? Is it ok that I’ve been ok with it, probably because I hadn’t noticed? Well the compassionate side of me dealing with my condition says YES. When do we ever make plans and they work out exactly as we planned them?

So this week I’ve been analysing where things changed. I made a decision in my 3rd year at music college to take on an additional qualification, to enhance my career as a teacher IN ADDITION to being a performer. That then led me to take on a full time secondary teaching role in order to complete that qualification, but a year later I decided that it wasn’t my desired path so I auditioned for a Masters degree. I got in, I accepted my place, but something didn’t feel quite right so I looked into other options. I took on a role in a specialist music school, again to broaden my career development by enhancing my piano skills etc, ended up then teaching full time as an assistant director of music at a prep school, absolutely loved it, broke myself commuting from Somerset to Lewis every holiday and finally followed my heart to my Hebridean Home and my Hebridean Love – The Isle of Lewis, Kevin, Gaelic music, language and culture.

I bought a house in Stornoway in 2014 which was a perfect location for teaching from, but I still never intended to give up performing. But have I given up? It certainly wasn’t a conscious decision. I think, analysing the last few years, that I got caught up in life – getting married, trying for children, renovating a nightmare of a house which is eating up all of my resources and just generally BEING HAPPY! I am relaxed, I have a stress-free job, I love where I live, I have a few friends locally but most of them are away on the mainland so that’s not great, it never will be, but does anyone ever have all of their friends nearby them? I just invite them to come see the amazing place I live! Its so calm and peaceful – the perfect holiday destination, with maybe the exception of the midges in summer!

So, performing. Well, there doesn’t seem to be the opportunities being thrown at me like I had down south, so without being proactive about it, I’ve just let it slide. The pupils come to me in their droves through word of mouth recommendations so that’s easy and takes up most of my time. I love it therefore I am busy as I want to be. I have control. I make enough money to keep my business afloat so that I can concentrate on creating a lovely little business space with whatever I have leftover. Now herein lies the problem!

When I bought the property I had the intention of living and working in it. Then I got engaged and plans changed. I moved into our marital home but kept my property as my work. A domino effect of problems started in July 2015 and every spare penny has gone into sorting out all the big things that needed sorting out – boiler blowing up, roof repairs, lifting the entire ground floor, moving my entire teaching space into my tiny office, re-doing gas pipes, cold/hot water pipes, new radiators, re-wiring, holes in the floor for easy access. Actually, I can’t remember every single thing we’ve done but it would’ve been far easier building a new property from scratch than what we’re doing. Anyway, my vision is finally taking place. One room is getting completed – my teaching room. It is going to be epic. I can visualise it all in my head and I can’t wait for it to be complete and give my students an inspirational room to learn in – a massive improvement from the tiny office upstairs or the make-shift harp room next door with music piled on the floor, boxes everywhere, stuff just simply disorganised and messy. To say that my students have been understanding would be an understatement!! They all deserve medals for putting up with my house & utter chaos!

It was only ever meant to be temporary!!!! 6 months initially…. But it is what it is. Nearly 4yrs later and I might finally be able to move back downstairs to teach again – what an achievement that would be. An incredible milestone.

My Harp teacher at music college once said that our practice space was the most important space in the house. That it must be prioritised. It must be clean, tidy, organised, ergonomical, well lit and inspiring. I took that on board back then. But I haven’t since 2011. Oddly enough, that was when my last album was released! Wow, that’s a realisation. 8yrs ago I descended into chaos by moving into temporary accommodation for jobs and I haven’t made progress in my playing – now I’m seeing the correlation. For 5yrs now I’ve been static but clearly the uninspiring work area has made a massive impact. So, will this change? Well I’m hoping so!

The car seems to be the place where all of my ideas come to me – for writing this blog for example. Today in the long journey home it suddenly dawned on me that it was about time I progressed with my music. I love peaceful music, I’m good at slow, peaceful, emotional music. I should concentrate on that. I am currently sorting out my Dad’s headstone after putting it off for far too long. Somewhere on it we plan to write “Aig fois” which means “At peace”. That should be the name of my project, right? A peaceful sounding solo harp suite/collection of pieces. Maybe Clàrsach? Maybe my Electro-harp? Maybe even my Concert Harp? Hmmmmmm now the juices are flowing. In so many ways, I need to be at peace so this seems to be the perfectly stress-free way to get me back on track. Maybe I need to wait until I have my new room…….. Or maybe starting now would help me on my way to getting my new room? We shall see. I predict that painting and other finishings will take up my time in weeks to come but who knows!

[limejuicer1862]

Wombwell Rainbow Interviews

I am honoured and privileged that the following writers local, national and international have agreed to be interviewed by me. I gave the writers two options: an emailed list of questions or a more fluid interview via messenger.

The usual ground is covered about motivation, daily routines and work ethic, but some surprises too. Some of these poets you may know, others may be new to you. I hope you enjoy the experience as much as I do.

Chrissie Gittins’

poetry collections are Armature (Arc, 2003), I’ll Dress One Night as You (Salt, 2009) and Sharp Hills (Indigo Dreams, 2019). Her pamphlets are A Path of Rice (Dagger Press, 1997), Pilot (Dagger Press, 2001) and Professor Heger’s Daughter (Paekakriki Press, 2013). Of her five children’s poetry collections three were Choices for the Poetry Book Society Children’s Poetry Bookshelf and two were shortlisted for the CLiPPA Poetry Award. Her new and collected children’s poems Stars in Jars (Bloomsbury, 2014) is a Scottish Poetry Library Recommendation. In 2014 she was a finalist in the first Manchester Children’s Literature Prize with a portfolio of new poems. She appeared on BBC Countryfile with her fifth children’s poetry collection Adder, Bluebell, Lobster (Otter-Barry Books, 2016) which was also longlisted for the North Somerset Teachers’ Book Award.

Chrissie’s four plays broadcast on BBC R4 starred Patricia Routledge, Jan Ravens and Bernard Cribbins. Her second short story collection Between Here and Knitwear (Unthank Books) was shortlisted for the Saboteur Awards. Helen Dunmore chose it as one of her top two collections of 2015.

Chrissie has received two Arts Council Grants for the Arts and an Authors’ Foundation Award. She is represented in the British Council Writers’ Directory and is a Hawthornden Fellow. She also features on the Poetry Archive and is a National Poetry Day Ambassador.

www.chrissiegittins.co.uk

The Interview

1. What inspired you to write poetry?

My mother gave me a love of language and story. She was a great raconteur and would spin stories over school holiday dinner times from a whisp of memory. We weren’t a bookish household so I haunted my local library. My memory of poetry at primary school is reading John Keats’ ‘Meg Merrilies’. At secondary school we would be set poem-writing homework. Our wonderful English teacher – Mrs Marshall – read out to the class any poems we’d written which she liked. It was a very proud moment if she read your poem. The school magazine published poems so that was also an incentive. It’s where my first published poem appeared.

2. Who introduced you to poetry?

My English teachers at school. We would spend a whole lesson dismantling a poem then putting it back together. I began to appreciate that those small blocks of text could be packed with intensity, wonder and surprise.

3. How aware were you of the dominating presence of older poets?

The First World War poets and Gerald Manley Hopkins made an early, but not a dominating, impression. I studied English Literature as part of my degree but it was only after I’d completed a second first degree in Fine Art that I began to take writing seriously. I sought out courses with writers I admire at City Lit and with the Arvon Foundation, with tutors such as Carol Ann Duffy, Kit Wright, Alison Fell, Philip Gross and Liz Lochhead. So they were a supportive presence.

4. What is your daily writing routine?

On home-based days I work in the morning, whether it’s first drafts, editing or research. This often stretches into afternoons.

5. What motivates you to write? A word or a phrase or an idea which won’t go away, a desire to shape my experience of the world into words.

6. What is your work ethic?

Pretty strong. I’ve been freelance for over 20 years.

7. How do the writers you read when you were young influence you today?

They can reverberate through my writing. I have a poem in my recent collection – ‘Loquats for the South Circular’ – which echoes Tony Harrison’s ‘A Kumquat for John Keats’, which in turn replies to Keats’ ‘Ode to Melancholy’. For my children’s poetry I still look to Spike Milligan, Charles Causley, Ted Hughes and Christina Rossetti.

8. Who of today’s writers do you admire the most and why?

I recently read Jane Clarke’s collection ‘When the Tree Falls’ which I liked very much and is full of compassion, delicacy, dignity and grace. I’m also very fond of Sinead Morrissey’s poems with their formal ingenuity and taut imagery. Also Paul Durcan for his robust storytelling and hilarity, Moniza Alvi for her tenderness and surrealism, and Jean Atkin for her ability to walk us vividly through historic and contemporary landscapes. As I write poetry for children as well as adults I’m also interested in poets who do the same.

9. What would you say to someone who asked you “How do you become a writer?”

I’d say read as much as you can – poetry, fiction, non-fiction, newspapers – you never know where your next idea will come from. Go to museums, see plays and films – oil your creative joints. I find notebooks useful. It takes time to find your voice and to hone your craft, be prepared for the long haul.

11. Tell me about the writing projects you have on at the moment.

I’m promoting my latest adult collection ‘Sharp Hills’, putting together a children’s poetry collection, and writing more poems and short stories.

  https://www.indigodreams.co.uk/chrissie-gittins/4594687744

Wombwell Rainbow Interviews: Chrissie Gittins Wombwell Rainbow Interviews I am honoured and privileged that the following writers local, national and international have agreed to be interviewed by me.

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The Indian school where Indigenous children are ‘never outsiders’

Boro Baski’s goals in life were pretty simple: to complete his education and find a job to support his family.

But Baski, who is now in his late 50s, did not go into the same line of agricultural labour as generations of his family before him. 

He and his parents are members of the Santhal community in the village of Bishnubati in West Bengal, India.

The Santhal community is one of the largest Indigenous groups in South Asia, with 7.4 million members worldwide and an estimated four million in the Indian states of Jharkhand, West Bengal, Bihar and Odisha. Many can also be found in Assam.

Its members mostly follow the Sarna religion, worshipping nature and ancestral spirits, although some are now Christian or Hindu. While Baksi and his father, like most of their community, followed the Sarna religion, his mother was Christian.

In 1977, one of his mother’s brothers, a Christian teacher, persuaded Baski‘s parents to send him to a missionary boarding school 50km (30 miles) away, and offered to pay the fees.

He was not only the first member of his family to experience a formal education, he was also the first from his village.

He was also the first to be given a formal birth date. The people of his village recall dates of birth using the seasons and major natural occurrences. His parents, for example, remember his date of birth as “the year that had great floods”. It was only in school that the date of April 4, 1968, was assigned as his birth date – he will never know the actual date.

Boro Baski was the first person from his village to receive formal education; now he helps educate children from his community [Rosemary Marandi/Al Jazeera]

A language barrier

During the 11 years he attended boarding school, Baski returned to his village for summer and winter breaks but increasingly found its more traditional way of life uncomfortable. There were no ceiling fans or bright lights like they had at boarding school, no concrete floors, no tables or chairs to sit on, and no friends to communicate with in his new-found language, Bengali.

He felt distant from his peers in the village. “We did not, any longer, have common topics to discuss, nor common interests,” Baski remembers.

He experienced the same problem – in reverse – when he was at school. There, he longed to express himself in his mother tongue, to share stories he had heard from his elders and even to break into songs and dances from his community.

Baski came to understand that a major factor dividing tribal communities from the rest of India was the difficulty children from these communities face when it comes to accessing formal schooling, partly as a result of the language barrier. The Santhal community’s first language is Santhali but in mainstream Indian schools, lessons are taught in Bengali, Hindi or English.

“If you put a Santhal and Bengali boy together in a class, the former will obviously find it difficult to compete because he has the disadvantage of not knowing well the language of instruction,” Baski explains.

“Everyone wants to learn but the problem is atmosphere, the medium of teaching and the method of teaching, besides the facts of economics. It is the reason why tribal children find it difficult to integrate with the mainstream.”

Another factor is the cost of schooling. According to a 2015 report by the Indian Ministry of Human Resource Development, the annual secondary school drop-out rate among Indigenous children in India is just above 40 percent compared with the national average of about 25 percent. The ministry lists “economic” issues as the biggest reason for the dropouts – families just cannot afford to keep their children in school.

Bridging worlds

One evening, when Baski was 18, a chance encounter in the muddy, half-lit railway station in Prantik (a stop on the line to Kolkata), 6km (4 miles) from his village, gave him with the key to bridging his two worlds.

That evening, Baski spotted another local boy, Sona Murmu, travelling with German researcher Martin Kampchen. “I was intrigued to see a white man with a boy who looked like a local Santhal,” Baski remembers. “So I offered to help them board the train.”

Kampchen had come to the local Viswa-Bharati University in 1979 and had studied the Indigenous communities in surrounding West Bengali villages. He was particularly interested in discovering why so many children were dropping out of secondary school and wanted to devise a way to help them continue their studies.

Now, he was helping Sona, the only boy from his village to have completed his secondary education, to teach what he had learned to other local children during evening coaching lessons, often conducted under a tree.

The philosophy behind Kampchen’s method was simple: children within Indigenous communities who had received an education would teach those who had not or who were struggling with their schoolwork, to keep them from dropping out.

Six months after this fateful meeting, Kampchen visited Bishnubati and persuaded Baski to start the practice there. And so his life’s work of bringing education to the children of his community began, with coaching children who were just starting school to help them cope better with the syllabus.

Children in class at the Rolf Schoemb school near the village of Bishnubati in West Bengal [Rosemary Marandi/Al Jazeera]

‘Development from within’

To facilitate the evening coaching classes, Baski and Sona, together with Kampchen, founded the non-governmental organisation (NGO) Ghosaldanga Adibasi Seva Sangha (GASS), named after the village Sona comes from.

“Our idea of development is based on a very old idea taken up by many great minds such as Mahatma Gandhi and [the poet] Rabindranath Tagore,” Baski explains. “It is about development from within. Development through the strength of the community’s own.”

In 1996, the NGO went one step further, opening a day school – the Rolf Schoemb Vidyashram (RSV) – close to the villages of Bishnubati and Ghosaldanga (Vidyashram means the “house of learning”).

The school, which offers free education, also provides hot meals to encourage poor parents to send their children. Its ethos is one of community, with programmes devised and implemented by members of the community rather than by outsiders who might not be familiar with the strengths of and issues faced by local people.

The standard provision of blanket-style education, imposed by the Indian government, has often been criticised as unsuitable for Indigenous communities.

But now this more needs-focused form of schooling has started to spread, with about 500 such schools across India.

Known as “Ashram” schools, they are often residential, with pupils and teachers living on the campus.

The Rolf Schoemb school, named after the German astrophysicist who left a legacy in his will for this purpose, currently has 146 pupils and is funded by charitable donations but has books and study materials provided by the government. It takes students who live nearby in classes between kindergarten and Year 4.

We do not sell aspirations. What we are trying to do is help them identify their talent, through education as well as through various activities such as farming, art and music.

Boro Baski

Children start off learning in their own language before progressing to Bengali and, in later years, English. To help them learn the alphabets of new languages, the school uses words in the children’s mother tongue to explain them.

The multi-faceted approach of the school, which places equal emphasis on extracurricular activities, such as art, clay modelling, music, farming and gardening, also attracts parents and children to the school, where they attend classes until noon.

For children pursuing higher education in more formal schools beyond Year 4, GASS provides hostel accommodation within its grounds to enable them to remain in a learning environment. The schools they attend are usually a few kilometres away and they travel by public transport together. The hostels currently house 40 boys and girls.

The community’s needs are central to the aims of the school. “We do not sell aspirations,” Baski explains. “What we are trying to do is help them identify their talent, through education as well as through various activities such as farming, art and music.”

‘I never felt like an outsider’

This approach has found favour with parents and pupils. Pradeep Hansda, 17, who studied at RSV until Year 4 and now resides in the hostel for older students studying elsewhere, says: “I never felt like an outsider there. It always felt like being around your own people.”

Hansda’s parents are farmers but he wants to be a teacher. He will sit his Year 10 exams this year.

For Pansuri Baske, giving her niece a better life meant providing her with an education. She is encouraged when her niece, who is a Year 4 student at RSV, says she wants to go to school, even during holidays.

“My niece never wants to be absent from school. She loves singing and reciting poetry. The best thing about RSV is their informal way of teaching and the fact that these children learn in different languages, including our own,” she adds. Baske hopes her niece can realise her dream of becoming a nurse.

Schooling takes a practical approach here. Even though the school and the villages of Bishnubati and Ghosaldanga lie within 10km (6 miles) of the homes of two Nobel laureates – Bengali writer and poet Rabindranath Tagore and economist Amartya Sen – they are emphatically not held up as the children’s only local role models.

“They [the children] have aspirations but they will work within their means,” Baski explains. “Some people want to be carpenters, tailors or teachers, or to pursue hotel management, and we help them do it.”

The atmosphere at the school is informal, with equal emphasis on academic and extracurricular activities [Rosemary Marandi/Al Jazeera]

Keeping the faith

Baski, who holds a doctorate in education and a master’s in social work from Viswa Bharati University, says he is happy being an educator. He has become a strong voice of the community not just in India but elsewhere, writing articles and books, and representing his community at conferences.

He is also dedicated to preserving Santhal cultural heritage.

In 2007, GASS built a small museum in Bishnubati to preserve some 100 artefacts, including weapons, musical instruments, photographs and medicinal herbs, that represent the community. Most of the artefacts were donated by tribal elders from across the states of West Bengal, Jharkhand and Odisha. They include silver jewellery once owned by Baski’s mother.

“The idea is to tell the world that we are not just happy-go-lucky people, as perpetuated by the mainstream media,” he says. “We have held expertise in hunting and fishing tools, in sophisticated music and medicines, for generations. It is just that this expertise was never spoken about.”

One of the pictures adorning the walls of the museum is of his wedding to his Catholic wife, a teacher, in a ceremony that marked both Santhal and Christian traditions – a symbol of the amalgamation of two distinct identities.

Baski met his wife, Asha Baski, when he visited the school she was teaching at in Kolkata to talk about his initiative. His family lives 100km away in Bandel, where Asha works, while Baski stays on in his village, overseeing the school.

His oldest daughter, Ipil, is studying English literature at Jadavpur University in Kolkata, while his younger daughter, Aril, attends school in Bandel.

“I don’t yearn for luxuries any more,” he says, as the winter sun peeps through the sonajhuri and acacia trees in the school compound. “What I do yearn for is for our children to be proud of their cultural heritage and preserve the traditions we hold so close.”

As if to demonstrate, as the sun begins to set, Baski takes his flute from his office drawer and plays a traditional tune.

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Meeting heroes: Teens come face-face with influential authors at the Tucson Festival of Books

Author Guadalupe Garcia McCall (center) met with teens from Tucson High School.

The authors are impressive. Among them, they’ve won multiple Newberry Medals, sold millions and millions of books, garnered dozens of awards and countless reviews, and earned their place on book-shelves worldwide.

To name just a handful: Matt de la Peña, Cornelia Funke, Isabel Quintero, R.L. Stine, Meg Medina.

For teens in Pima County these (and many more!) authors are jumping off the page and into real life at the annual Tucson Festival of Books.

Since the Festival launched in 2009, Pima County Public Library has partnered with local middle and high schools to off er groups of students the opportunity to interview favorite authors.

Guided by a teacher or librarian, the groups receive a book to read and work together in preparing interview questions. They discuss plot and character—these are major bestsellers we’re talking about—but they also delve into subjects surrounding the authors’ lives and careers.

The opportunity to meet an author, especially one who fills a larger-than-life role in their imagination, is something these teens won’t forget.

Rosalie Nuñez was a senior at Tucson High School when she interviewed Guadalupe Garcia McCall, award-winning author of Shame the Stars and others.

“This interview,” says Rosalie “really stood out to me. I felt a personal connection with her. For me, her books are very relatable growing up a young Mexican American woman in the southwest. This project brings books and authors to life. I hope the Library keeps this project alive for a long time.”

Of her highly-praised Gabi, A Girl in Pieces, Isabel Quintero says, “My hopes [for the book] were of course that readers would connect with Gabi…. That readers would see themselves in the book.” 

For teens doing the interviews, these authors have become much more than names on the covers of the well-worn books that comfort and challenge them.

Beyond their bestsellers, awards, and interviews, these authors care deeply about inspiring younger generations of readers and understand the role public libraries play in the process.

In his 2016 Newberry Medal acceptance speech, Matt de la Peña credited librarians and their profound support for his career. “They work tirelessly to put good books into the hands of young people.

Taryn Burlison is a Library Media Specialist at Flowing Wells Junior High School. Since 2015, she’s helped recruit and train students to participate. As she says, “The project gives the students an opportunity to contribute to the literary community. The more we partner, the stronger our community. Our students see for themselves that libraries are a path to opportunity.”

The interviews have been incredibly beneficial to students as they build real-world skills. Taryn says, “The teamwork is incredible. They analyze and negotiate. Their discussions have a sense of relevancy.”

Jack Scott is another teacher who’s recruited students. He teaches Mexican American Literature and Advance Placement Literature at Tucson High School. For him, the cultural connection is key.

“In 2016, my group consisted of students from my Mexican American Lit class. We read Meg Medina’s Yaqui Delgado Wants to Kick Your Ass and Burn Baby Burn. Beyond the fact that it was just plain cool to interview Mrs. Medina, they were able to discuss the importance of having literature written about Latinos.”

“For too long in education,” he continues, “my students have had few choices in reading novels which mirrored their culture and community. The Library has brought to my students the ability to read contemporary fiction full of bright characters and rich imagery reflecting their culture. Now they’re getting to meet and discuss culture with the authors they can identify with.”

In 2017, the Teen Audio Interviews project grew to include Arizona Public Media as a partner. The interviews were recorded at the studio on the University of Arizona campus.

TJ Herleth was a member of the Nanini Library’s Teen Advisory Board when she took an interest in the project. “Having a large studio with waiting rooms and hard-wood floors was luxurious. Plus, we got a tour of the studio. It’s massive!”

Flowing Wells Junior High School student Abigail Ortiz Velez agrees. “The AZPM equipment made our interview super exciting. We even had our own professional photographer.”

Jack says, “The whole process has given students confidence in themselves and their post-secondary futures. They have sharpened their communication skills in the interview process, and gained tech skills in editing.”

Reflecting on his teenage years, Jack says, “In high school I read Stephen King obsessively. I honestly cannot imagine what it would have been like to interview him. Fainting may have been involved. This is really a once in a lifetime opportunity for these students.”

At the Library, we’re excited to continue the project. Thankfully, no one has fainted yet, but we’ll be extra vigilant in years to come.

Meeting heroes: Teens come face-face with influential authors at the Tucson Festival of Books published first on https://medium.com/@SteampunkPCGames

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Wombwell Rainbow Interviews

I am honoured and privileged that the following writers local, national and international have agreed to be interviewed by me. I gave the writers two options: an emailed list of questions or a more fluid interview via messenger.

The usual ground is covered about motivation, daily routines and work ethic, but some surprises too. Some of these poets you may know, others may be new to you. I hope you enjoy the experience as much as I do.

Neal Zetter

Neal is an award-winning comedy performance poet, children’s author, and entertainer with a 25-year background in communication management and mentoring. He uses his interactive rhythmic, rhyming poetry to to develop literacy, confidence, creativity and communications skills in 3-103 yr olds, making words and language accessible for the least engaged whilst streeeeeeetching the most able.

Workshops & Performing

Most days Neal is found performing or running fun poetry writing or performance workshops in schools and libraries with children, teens, adults or families. He has worked in all 33 London Boroughs and many, many other UK cities. More challenging poetry projects have involved workshops for people with brain injury, mental health, drug and alcohol problems, offenders, those with learning difficulties, homeless, other special needs including not having English as a first language.

Neal also produces adult comedy performance poetry and has nearly 30 years of experience appearing at e.g. West End comedy clubs, the Royal Festival Hall, various festivals, in the centre circle of a League 2 football pitch (!) and even a funeral (!!). He ran his own spoken word-based comedy club (Word Down Walthamstow) 2009-13. Neal has compiled and hosted/compered shows with the likes of John Cooper Clarke, Attila the Stockbroker, Michael Rosen and shared bills with Harry Hill, Phil Jupitus, Mark Lamaar, Omid Djalili and more.

Books

Neal children’s comedy poetry books, all published by Troika, include:

For 6-13 year olds:

Gorilla Ballerina (A Book of Bonkers Animal Poems) – a collection of wacky poems about weird animals

Invasion of the Supervillains (Raps and Rhymes to Worry the Galaxy) – evil companion book to ‘Superheroes’ (below)

Yuck & Yum (A Feast of Funny Food Poems), with poetry pal Joshua Seigal

Here Comes the Superheroes (Raps and Rhymes to Save the Galaxy) – in the Reading Agency’s top 15 children’s poetry books

It’s Not Fine to Sit on a Porcupine – in BookTrust’s top 20 children’s poetry books

Bees in My Bananas – a Wishing Shelf Award winner

For 2-6 year olds:

SSSSNAP! Mister Shark

Odd Socks!

Due Sept 2020 and Sept 2021 for 6-13 year olds

When the Bell Goes (A Rapping Rhyming Trip through Childhood) – a semi-autobiographical poetry collection on the theme of childhood covering growing up, school and family life

Scared? (Poems from the Darker Side) – a collection of funny, and maybe a few more serious ones, about many aspects of fear

The Interview

1. When and why did you start writing poetry?

I wrote my first poem when I was six – a limerick which now appears in the intro to my first book, Bees in My Bananas. I always enjoyed making people laugh and have had an inbuilt sense of rhythm and rhyming for as long as I can remember. So I began writing poetry as naturally as some people learn a new language – there was no grand plan but I have never stopped writing poems since I was a tender year 2 student. And the poem?

There was an old lady from Hull And she bumped into a bull The bull said ‘Ow!” Bashed into a cow And the cow crashed into the wall!

Not a classic but Love Me Do was hardly the best Beatles song, just a fab start!

2. Who introduced you to poetry?

My Dad used to read to me in bed at night before I was able too. I especially liked the poems he read, the main two that stuck in my head were the classic Cat in the Hat by Dr Seuss and The Train to Timbuctoo from Margaret Wise Brown (Google it – it’s a great single-poem book as is the aforementioned ‘Cat’). Both were beautifully rhythmic with strong rhyming and contained many new and exciting fun words, some made up and some that made no sense to me at all – but that’s the joy of poetry and reading!

3. How aware are and were you of the dominating presence of older poets traditional and contemporary?

Great question! Let me answer it in parts. When I I was  a primary school child I wasn’t really aware of poets apart from Dr Seuss as mentioned in my earlier reply. I knew poems, but not so aware who wrote them.

In secondary school I studied Eng Lit to A Level and regularly had rows with my teacher over my frustration at studying Wordsworth, Coleridge, Gerard Manly Hopkins, Keats etc. I absolutely see they were fine poets but they didn’t speak to ME a teenager in 1970s London into punk rock, footy and left-wing politics. I needed to hear poems about those topics and the other things in my life. Of course she never agreed with me 😎.

(So, as I was musically inept, despite my love of it, I started to write song lyrics and worked with tune writers to construct songs In a (completely naff) local band (but we thought we were superstars). Bernie Taupin was my role model but I loved the Stones’ land Clash lyrics and Webber/Rice musicals.)

In my very late teens and beyond I started to write poems prolifically but I still could not name any poets of renown. My home-produced books (6) sold in less than three figures and that wasn’t enough as I needed to share my work, after all every poet is a communicator. I saw adverts in Time Out magazine for performance poetry clubs and comedy clubs in the West End and that’s where it all REALLY began for me. It was a scene and for the first time I got to meet and mix with other poets and learn how to produce the right kind of poems to entertain and engage an audience, as well as make them laugh. So, no longer in a vacuum, I compered for and performed with the likes of John Cooper Clarke (the Godfather of performance poetry!), Attila the Stockbroker, Porky the Poet (AKA Phil Jupitus) etc.

Nearly all the poets I’d met or read since my school days were older and, in 1989 when my performance career really started, I was very aware of their presence and influence – I looked up to them. Now I guess, 60 next week, I try to affect younger poets and those starting out in the same way: advising, encouraging and mentoring. And that’s something I really enjoy doing.

Maybe in 50 yrs time or less, my poetry will be as irrelevant to people then as the poets I studied at A Level were to me. And there will be nothing wrong with that. I get it!

3.1. What is the right kind of poem to engage and entertain?

One with a repetitive rhythm, strong rhyme and a chorus/repeated word/line. This works well with my children’s poetry (in class and on assemblies) and adult poetry (in clubs, at arts events etc). We call them ‘call and response’ poems in the trade or often I refer to them as ‘interactive’ and I should add the poems must be about a topic people can relate to in a voice and with words that speak to them.

4. What is your daily writing routine?

I don’t have one. I try to write at different times of the day, on different days of the week and in as many different places as possible. Doing that means there are no times I feel I am unable to write and that must be a good thing. I guess indie cafes are my favourite places but, as I don’t drive and travel by public transport, I do loads of writing on trains, tubes and buses. Other regular haunts are the British Library, Foyle’s Bookshop in Charing X Road and home of course

5. What motivates you to write?

I am very self-motivated when it comes to writing. I always feel I have something to say about things that other people will find interesting too. I am never stuck for ideas, have never experienced writers’ block and keep a long list of topics for future poems. I have written my next three books due out the next three Septembers am already planning more. And the ideas themselves come from keeping my ears and eyes constantly open and writing about What’s around me and my experiences e.g. people I meet, places I go to, things I hear on the news etc

6. How do the writers you read when you were young influence you today?

My influences are threefold:

The aforementioned Dr Seuss and Mary Wise Brown books inspired my rhythmic, rhyming and comedy poems. Other poets like Edward Lear and Spike Milligan did the same.

I have always had a love of music too as I explained so, as I used to write song lyrics it’s not surprising that my poems, as well as being very rhythmic and containing strong rhymes also have choruses and a strong use of repetition.

Finally, since before I could even read, I have had a love of superhero comics, especially Marvel. I used to look at the pictures when my brother collected them and when old enough to read myself I started avidly buying and collecting them myself and have never really stopped. In fact I bought this month’s new Marvel Avengers comic today. These streeeeetched my imagination, developed my vocab and taught me a lot about what was going on in the world around me e.g. politics, Vietnam Nam War, life/death, relationships, history, space and science etc. And of course this love of comics also inspired both my Superheroes and Supervillains poetry books. Keen comic fans will immediately spot some of the styles and influences from the 1960/70 Marvel and DC comics in particular. Without any doubt at all, if I never read these comics I would not have become a poet and author.

7. Whom of today’s writers do you admire the most and why?

As I read mainly blogs, auto-biogs, social history, popular science and other non-fiction my book choices are theme-led rather than author-led so I have not got too many favourites. However I especially like Bill Bryson, Mark Kermode, Jon Ronson and Malcolm Gladwell as they all have a fantastic writing style and a passion for their subject. The last four books I read are Van Gogh’s Ear, The Radium Girls, Chernobyl and A History of the World in 21 Women with many Marvel comics squeezed in between.

The poets I especially admire are the ones that have been on the scene for many years like Michael Rosen, Brian Moses, John Cooper Clarke and Benjamin Zephaniah – you have to take your hat off to them for the quality and quantity of their output. I hope I achieve at least equal longevity as I certainly want to continue what I do until I leave this planet.

8. Why do you write, as opposed to doing anything else?

I write because I must. A poet is what I am not what I do. So, while I might be able to lose interest In other hobbies, jobs and pastimes, I can never give up being a poet.

9What would you say to someone who asked you “How do you become a writer?”

Read, write, read, write, read, write adI infinitum. Like anything you wish to do well, the more you practise and immerse yourself in it the better you will get. And write from the heart about what you love, like, dislike and hate – about what you feel and what matters to you – and you will produce your best work.

8.1. Why write children’s books?

I write poetry for children, teens and adults but, to date, have only produced children’s books. This is because I make my living performing and running workshops in schools virtually every day so the book buyers are there in front of me. Most days end with a book sale with children I have worked with wanting a memento of the day, signed and dedicated. Given the above my writing is certainly weighted to the younger market especially as, sadly, not many teens or adults want to buy poetry books, even if they enjoy listening to poems for their age group.

9. Tell me about the writing projects you have on at the moment.

In my biog you will see details of the next two books I have due in Sept 2020 and 2021, both written. I am working on my 2022 poetry book now (the title is a secret!) and am looking at both an anthology of mixed poems and an EY/KS1 book for the near future.

Wombwell Rainbow Interviews: Neal Zetter Wombwell Rainbow Interviews I am honoured and privileged that the following writers local, national and international have agreed to be interviewed by me.